Page 18 of Conquering the Skies

Geneva surmised her friend hadn’t told her family about the stressful situations at her last job, up to and including their wild car chase through the airspace of Triayda, but she chose not to bring it up. “At least Curo and Pasurea are in the same system,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “You don’t even want to know how far away I’ve lived from my family at times.”

The door leading from the lobby opened again, and the remaining members of their group arrived. As the employees provided information about their upcoming activities, Geneva’s mind wandered to the conversation that had just taken place. It was the first time she’d answered questions from new acquaintances about her profession without any specific mention of the vast amount of time she’d spent with the Terran military, and it felt strange to disregard so many of the experiences which had shaped the person she’d become. Shaking her head as if to dispel the bewildering thoughts, she attempted to focus on the instructions being delivered. Everyone around her was going through similarly significant changes, she reasoned, and all she could do was keep moving forward and hope she grew more comfortable with them.

Chapter Eight

A buzz of activity permeated the air in the bridal suite in one of the most luxurious hotels in downtown Triayda. Geneva sat perfectly still atop a stool and tried not to flinch as the makeup artist came at her with a mascara wand. At least the team Adele had assembled to assist the wedding party for the big day was comprised of professionals, she thought, as opposed to her mother’s friends who were always all too eager to share their unsolicited opinions when enlisted to help her prepare for formal events. Aside from asking her some basic questions about her usual makeup routines and preferences, the woman wielding the wand kept her conversational remarks breezy and impersonal.

A light coating of berry-colored gloss applied to her lips was the final step of the process before the beautician sprayed her face with a fine mist. “There,” she said, capping her various tubes. “You’re all set. None of that makeup is coming off until you decide it is.”

“Great. Thanks so much.”

She slid off her seat, the skirt of her pale-blue dress billowing around her. Layers and layers of all kinds of fabric she didn’t even know the names of made the voluminous gown heavier than some of the body armor she’d worn in the past, and she was grateful her bridesmaid duties didn’t include any sudden movements. Her hair had already been pinned up in the style she and Adele had selected, so she moved out of the way for the next attendant to take her place.

On the opposite side of the room, Vivian and Susannah worked together to help the bride into her intricate wedding gown. Adele knotted her fingers in front of her, her mouth pressed into a straight line, and said nothing. Geneva sidled over to Phoebe, taking care not to get in the path of one of the photographer’s tiny drones whizzing by overhead to capture some footage of the ongoing preparations. She stood as close as their matching full skirts would allow and joined her in watching the other women manipulate the clasps and laces. “I would have thought she’d be freaking out by now, but she seems pretty calm,” she whispered to the youngest sister. “Did you slip her a sedative or something?”

“No. My mother wouldn’t let me.” Phoebe picked at a strand of beading at the edge of her neckline. “Just a few sips of champagne when we got here, before we all started getting ready.”

“Maybe it was enough to do the trick.” She fanned herself with her hands. “I could go for an ice-cold drink right about now. This thing weighs a ton.”

“Tell me about it. At least everything’s taking place inside and not out in the sun. Or suns, I should say.”

Adele glanced backward over her shoulder. “How’s it coming along? Is everything okay?”

“Of course everything’s okay,” her mother said. “Better than okay. We’re making sure you’re positively perfect.”

Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled a long, slow stream of air. Phoebe nudged Geneva’s arm. “Good thing we were able to get ready at the venue. I can’t imagine trying to get into a car while wearing these dresses.”

She snickered. “I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to fit into my car like this, and I think Adele’s dress is twice the size of ours.”

One chocolate-brown eye opened at the sound of her name. “What’s so funny? Is there something wrong with the dress? Oh, I should have known—”

“Relax. You look amazing,” Phoebe said.

“We’re just having a good time, enjoying ourselves on your special day,” Geneva added. “Besides, you could walk down the aisle wearing your bathrobe, and Marcus would still marry you in a heartbeat.”

She fiddled with the bejeweled bracelet encircling one wrist and swiveled her head to the side again. “How much longer? We’re not running late, are we?”

Susannah gave one of the laces at the back of her bodice a firm tug. “Trust me, they’re not going to start without you.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t want to keep anyone waiting, though. Not Marcus, or any of the other guests, or…”

Phoebe flashed her an exaggerated grin. “Think of it as you giving everyone plenty of time to mingle.”

At long last, the remaining hooks were fastened and the final bow was tied. Susannah stepped back to admire her handiwork. “I think we’re all done. As soon as you’re ready, we can start making our way to the hall for the ceremony.”

Adele’s breathing quickened. “Are you sure we remembered everything? I mean…I guess if…I just want to—”

Vivian pressed an enormous bouquet of flowers into her daughter’s quivering hands, squeezing her fingers for a moment before letting go. “Everything is in place for one of the most memorable days of your life. But if you need another moment, as we said earlier, nothing is starting until you say so.”

Her chest rose and fell with another heavy breath. “I…I’m ready.”

They left the bridal suite and navigated the corridors toward the center of the palatial hotel. A high-arching set of double doors led to the great hall where the ceremony was scheduled to take place, though they were closed to prevent the guests inside from seeing out. In front of them, uniformed employees bustled about, straightening tablecloths and polishing glasses in preparation for the following celebration.

An older man with short curly hair waited in the middle of the room. Delight lit up his face as he held out his arms to Adele, and she carefully accepted the embrace, taking care not to disturb the front of her dress. Observing the scene from a distance, Geneva surmised the man was Adele’s father, and the touching display made her think about the similar experiences she’d share with her own parents in the future.

Two women approached the group, introduced by Susannah as the florist and the wedding coordinator. After Susannah passed the coordinator a box of supplies, the rest of the bouquets were distributed among the bridal party while she reviewed the order of the ceremony one more time. As she concluded her remarks, a familiar figure entered from a smaller door off the side of the room.

Geneva beamed at the sight of Ash in his tuxedo, his tie matching the periwinkle hues of her gown. He raised his hands and swiveled his head away in a dramatic gesture as he walked toward them. “I promise I’m not trying to get a sneak peek of anything I’m not supposed to see,” he said.

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