Page 69 of Joined By Magic

Chapter Thirty-Three

Liv

Thefirstraysofsun slipped in through a crack in the draped windows, rousing me from sleep. Beside me in the big bed, Hex snored. Atalie sprawled on a divan on the floor, her brown hair splayed out across her pillow.

My wedding day. I rolled the thought around my mind, testing the words. It didn’t feel real. I hadn’t seen Leo since the morning of the previous day. I’d spent the last twenty-four hours in an idle haze, secluded in bed, reading, watching vids, and chatting with my friends.

Were all brides this nervous, or just those whose wedding reception could prove fatal? I rose, careful not to wake the girls, and slipped into the shower. In the next few hours, I’d become Princess Livet Rahl and attempt to dethrone a king.

But first, the wedding.

Dried and unable to take the silence any longer, I flung the drapes open to allow the sunshine in. Atalie sat up, blinked, then fixed me with a bright grin. “Are you nervous yet?”

I smiled back. “I feel like I might throw up, even though my stomach’s got nothing in it.” The words brought forth a growl from my belly. “That’s the fasting period over. I can order food now!” I pressed the call button by the bed and ordered breakfast.

Hex groaned and pulled the coverlet over her face. “What the fuck? What time is it?”

“Get your lazy ass up.” Atalie threw a pillow at her head. “It’s a big day.”

While we waited for breakfast, Hex slipped out into the main part of the suite to check on Leo. She returned, lips curled up in a sadistic grin. “He’s about as jumpy as you are.” Her smile faltered. “Which I suppose is understandable.”

Silence fell. We’d tried to focus on the ceremony and not what would come after, but it loomed over the day nonetheless.

A knock at the door announced the food. Crusty bread, fruit, and grilled white fish. Plain, clean food, traditional before a wedding. I demolished my plate and licked the last crumbs from my fingers, feeling better and much more anxious all at once. The day had really begun.

Stylists, hairdressers, and beauticians arrived, and time sped by in a whirl of preparation. My dress was a complex blue gown with a long train. A tight bodice laced up the back, encrusted with tiny multifaceted gemstones that refracted light into every color. The material was a smooth, heavy silk that slipped through my fingers like water. I’d never worn anything half as beautiful. My glowing necklace hung between my collarbones. Leo had recharged it before he left, and it shone with pure radiance.

As my bridal attendants, Hex and Atalie wore dresses in a matching shade but far simpler design—the loose, flowy style favored by the Atarans. Atalie twisted to examine herself from every angle, while Hex plucked at the skirt in irritation. I studied Hex. With her hair curled into long waves and her makeup expertly applied, her angular features transformed from striking to beautiful. I poked her in the ribs.

“Look at you. You should make an effort more often, it suits you.”

Hex snorted. “Fuck that. Too much hassle. And anyway, we don’t all dream of marrying a handsome prince.”

She laced her words with sarcasm, but I laughed.

A knock sounded. Atalie pulled it open to admit a stocky middle-aged woman wearing the livery of a summer palace servant—a bright burnished orange tunic and trousers. She smiled, and the corners of her eyes crinkled.

“Don’t you ladies look lovely. It’s almost time. His Highness is in position, along with the guests.” The mood at the palace had been festive since our arrival. The servants here seemed less concerned about the scandalous nature of the wedding than those at the main palace, and glad to be part of the fun.

I followed her out of the room. Four of Garron’s men guarded the door. They fell into flanking positions as soon as my party emerged. Leo wasn’t taking any chances. The ceremony was to take place in a small chamber, attended only by our friends and the most important nobles.

We progressed down the hall. The summer palace wasn’t open to the air like the main palace. Instead, the walls and ceiling were white marble twined with some sort of spiky creeper with orange flowers. Beautiful, in a harsh way, like Atar itself.

My low sandals clicked on the tiles as we approached the wedding chamber. The air was scented with something sweet and floral, and it tickled the back of my throat. My breath came faster. What if I fumbled the words or tripped on my long dress? I tried to calm myself. Leo wouldn’t care. He’d love me anyway.

We paused outside the doors and a servant slipped inside, closing it behind him. Hex squeezed my hand. “Ready?”

I squeezed back. “Yep. Sort of.”

The door opened, releasing music. A string instrument played a gentle melody. Hushed voices quieted at an unseen signal. An older servant in a tailored black uniform with orange accents waved me forward with a grandiose gesture. I took a breath, swallowed, and set off.

The room was a circular chamber with seats all around, aside from the path leading to a raised dais in the middle. Like a theater, the floor sloped upward toward the edges. Light streamed in from a large circular skylight, the glass stained in a geometric red and orange pattern that bathed everything in a warm glow. Colorful lacquered pots with cacti, creepers, and flowering shrubs filled the room.

I noticed it all in a blur, my brain snagging on small details. At the steward’s urging, I walked, taking slow, measured steps toward the central platform and the man who waited for me.

Leo watched as I approached, his lips fixed in a half smile. His outfit complimented my dress—his tunic, trousers, and cloak a rich blue covered with twining silver thread. A lighter, more festive look than the usual imposing gold, silver, and red shades he wore.

His black eyes caught mine, and my nerves swirled away, replaced with excitement. This man was mine. He’d broken every rule and tradition under the sun to make us official, and now no one could come between us. He’d done all that for me.

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