But now I wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.
“I remember feeling frustrated when I was growing up in Storvatten,” Mom said after a long pause. “My kingdom demanded silence and obedience. It left me feeling cold and isolated, and I wanted something entirely different.” She cast a warm glance at my dad. “I followed my heart, and I’ve never once regretted the choice I made all those years ago.”
I looked over at my parents, feeling more lost and confused than I ever had before. “But what if my heart doesn’t know what it wants anymore?”
THIRTY-FIVE
wedlock
The greenhouse seemed unable to contain all the plant life, and vines weaved around door frames to climb over the walls in the small adjoining room. It was usually used as a break room, but it was a perfect place to get ready for a wedding.
Flowers of pink and white and purple bloomed on the vines, and flourishing potted plants sat on every available surface. Even the two sofas in the room had floral designs stitched onto their cream fabric.
A pale pink rose blossomed at the top of the full-length mirror, and Tilda took a deep breath as she stared at her reflection. Her long hair hung in loose curls down her back. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, and carnation-pink lipstick brightened her full lips.
The light chiffon fabric of her off-white dress flowed over her growing baby bump, nearly hiding it, but still managing to highlight how curvaceous and tall she was. Soft sleeves draped off her shoulders just so, revealing her well-toned arms and olive skin.
Ember and I stood to either side of her, both of us looking short and rather plain compared to Tilda’s radiance. Our hair had been styled the same way: small purple flowers were weaved into braids twisted into an updo.
We wore matching dresses: pale blue chiffon that landed just above the knees, in a similar empire design as Tilda’s. Her mother, Ranetta, had made all three of our dresses, and she’d done an amazing job, especially given the short notice of the wedding.
Tilda’s mother stood behind her, carefully adjusting the wreath of flowers on her head—the Kanin tradition instead of a veil. When she’d finished, she looked at her daughter’s reflection and smiled with tears in her eyes.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Ranetta told her.
“It’s true,” Ember chimed in. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look prettier.”
Ilsa, Tilda’s older sister, opened the door with a quick knock, then poked her head in. “I think they’re all ready for you out there.”
Ranetta once again assured Tilda that she looked beautiful and that everything was perfect, then departed with Ilsa to take their seats before the processional started. We could hear the soft music from the piano, and we were just waiting for our cue—“Winter” by Vivaldi to begin.
Tilda took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” she whispered.
“It’s a big day. It makes sense,” Ember said.
Her smoky gray eyes widened, and she nodded. “It’s a huge day.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of.” I tried to calm her nerves. “Do you love Kasper?”
“Of course.” She looked down at me, her eyes misty. “I love him with everything I am.”
“Just remember that, and everything will be okay.”
Tilda smiled, then she reached out and took my hand. Ember was on the other side of her, and Tilda grabbed her hand too, squeezing it tightly. The three of us stood together like that until the first notes of “Winter” began.
Ember went out first, walking down the short aisle. Tilda was getting married in the flower garden of the greenhouse, and there were flowers everywhere. Potted plants had been moved to the side to make room for a white velvet carpet to run down the center, and the twenty chairs set up on either side of it were decorated with floral garlands.
At the altar, Kasper’s two groomsmen were already waiting underneath the flowered arbor. His best man was Elliot V?an, the guard he worked with, and his fifteen-year-old brother, Devin, was the other groomsman.
Devin looked just like a smaller version of his brother, but his fidgety, hyper demeanor set them apart, especially in contrast with Elliot’s severe H?gdragen stance.
When it was my turn, I kept my head high and my eyes forward. I knew that Tilda had invited Ridley, and I didn’t want to see him holding hands with Juni, who would undoubtedly be getting misty eyed at the beauty of it all.