"Ella, you should think about moving closer to town. Maybe you could move in with a friend."
"Don’t worry! I’ll be fine."
"I don’t like you being here by yourself."
"I’ll be fine," Ella repeated.
It was still some time before they left the porch and retired, cold and wet. It didn’t seem so funny to Ella now.
~
AMBER’S mother fussed with her hair once more before stepping back, an appraising look on her face.
"There, that’s it," she said.
Amber stood nervously on the bank of the Sarsen where a beautiful bower of trees and flowers had been constructed. With her as the centrepiece, she thought wryly. The water flowed sluggishly past, tranquil and emerald green. Amber kept a firm eye on the sky but the unseasonable weather seemed to be holding up — the sky a clear blue, the sun’s rays warm on her skin. When she inhaled Amber could smell the sweet scent of the roses and the freshness of the leaves. A light breeze blew gently, rustling the leaves around her, causing her green dress to flutter. Graduation was still a week away, but Amber had been allowed to wear silk just this once. She loved the feel of it on her skin, so soft and supple.
"Remember, my dear, this is the best day of your life."
Amber wished her mother would stop saying that. A hand reached yet again for her hair; Amber caught it this time. "Enough, Mother."
"Hmpf," Amber’s mother said, before planting a beaming smile on her face and directing it at some newly-arrived guests.
Amber could see more of her relatives standing under the line of trees. They were all smiling; it seemed like a strange role reversal, everyone kept telling her how happy she must be, but they were the ones smiling.
Not for the first time, Amber wondered if she’d done the right thing. She kept imagining Miro appearing at the wedding, a great sword in his hand, cutting the flowers up and threatening the shocked relatives, before he picked her up on his shoulder and carried her away.
"Don’t look so sad, Amber. Smile. Everyone is watching you."
Amber grimaced.
"No, I said smile. Smile. There, that’s better, isn’t it?"
Amber felt like she might cry.
By now all of the guests had arrived. Amber could see her entire family arrayed before her, along with many of the teachers and Academy staff. Suddenly there was a commotion in the distance and Amber heard raised voices. One voice rose above them all — a strong, female voice.
A figure pushed through restraining hands: a young woman in a green woollen Academy gown. Ella strode purposefully past the relatives, ignoring their disapproving expressions.
"I hope I’m not too late?" Ella smiled up at Amber.
Amber just nodded. Ella took a place between Amber and her mother. She took her friend’s hand.
In that moment, Amber did cry.
~
ELLA looked on as Igor took Amber away, amid the cheers and whistles of his fellows. Everyone had said it was a beautiful wedding. No one commented on the bride’s tears. They probably put it down to nerves, or tears of happiness.
Ella left the wedding and followed the river bank, gazing into its depths and thinking about the future. She was glad she had her work. Working with essence, real enchantment, was the great joy of her life. Some of the masters had let her borrow a few of their texts. Ella read them by the dim light of her nightlamp, sitting and rocking on the porch with the calls of the forest animals for company.
Master Merlon had told Ella she’d been recommended for the Academy honour list. Ella didn’t feel the surge of pride she had expected. Instead she was simply happy to be finding her place in the world.
Thinking of life, and weddings, Ella realised she had walked quite a long way, almost to the Tenbridge. She could see the Crystal Palace, and as she watched, she was lucky enough to see the palace colours begin to glow as the sun set behind her.
"That’s the first time I’ve seen them come on like that," an admiring voice said beside her.
He was a young man, his blue eyes sparkling as he joined Ella’s idle walk along the riverbank. He did it with such assurance that it didn’t seem rude, only confident.
He was only a little taller than Ella, perhaps one or two years older, with long, unruly hair tumbling to his collar. It was hair the colour of fire — a wild red. His accent didn’t sound Alturan. Ella couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps it was just the way he spoke. He was undeniably handsome.
"I’ve always loved the palace lights," Ella said. "Did you know that from inside the palace the lights shine through the crystal walls?"
"Really?"
"The servants have almost an entire language of lore, just to control the lights. It’s beautiful."
"You’ve been inside the palace?"
Ella didn’t know why she kept talking. "No, of course not. I would never be invited. I do know some of the lords’ children though."
His eyes grew round. "That’s still something most people can’t say. What about your family? Have they been inside? Your father, perhaps your mother?"