“A few dozen, I understand.”
“He’ll need them,” I said, looking out the window at the city, which was still being rebuilt. Solantha had come a long way from the piles of rubble that portions of the city had been reduced to during last year’s big quake, but there were still plumes of black smoke coming up from various parts of the city where steamtractors and other machines were hard at work reconstructing buildings that we had not managed to properly secure in time. “We’re already crowded as it is—with the influx of guests and officials, Garrett will have his hands full. And the enforcers will be working lots of overtime.” Maybe, I reflected optimistically, that extra income would help ease the jealousy between the older and younger crews.
Moving on, Nelia flipped to another sheet of paper on her clipboard and read the day’s headlines to me. With so much to do, I had no time to listen to broadcasts or peruse the news, so Nelia did it for me every morning, then gave me the highlights. As she read them off, I gradually grew more and more annoyed—the newspaper and tabloid headlines had taken a sour turn lately.
When Iannis and I had first announced our engagement, they’d written up the whole thing as a touching romance. Our epic love had been a beacon of hope, proof that two people from vastly different classes and races could come together and make the world a better place. But someone at the Herald must have gotten a bug up their ass, because a few weeks ago they’d published an article saying that Iannis was cradle-robbing. The rest of the human papers had followed suit, and now there was an article popping up nearly every day questioning the suitability of our match. Paparazzi were following us around everywhere, to the point that I rarely left the palace anymore unless I was in disguise. While the papers pretended to champion me, they also threw out subtle digs about the disparity of power between Iannis and me, and made me sound like a poor little orphan girl with no family to support me.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to set the record straight?” I finally asked, my voice simmering with frustration. “I’m getting really tired of the media taking potshots at Iannis and me. Magorah knows we’re not perfect, but this is getting ridiculous! Honestly, who gives a shit about our age difference anyway?”
Nelia sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m afraid there’s little you can do without making it worse,” she said. Since she used to be a journalist herself, I trusted her insight. “The papers always spin things the way they like—they may say that they’re here to report the facts, but ultimately sales are the driving factor, and sometimes just their own bias. The best you can do is keep your head down. This will all be over soon enough, and before you know it, you’ll be enjoying a blissful honeymoon with your new husband while they harass someone else.” She winked at me.
The thought of actually getting away from all this for a few weeks with Iannis did lift my spirits. I held the image of the two of us frolicking on a secluded beach wearing nothing but our skin close in my mind’s eye as I suffered through the rest of my day, packed with meetings and tedious duties. By the time I’d finished with the last one, I was ready to curl up in my bed and shut out the rest of the world.
But I had one last appointment, and she was waiting in my sitting room when I entered. “Mrs. Lawry!” I exclaimed as the seamstress rose from my couch along with her assistant. “By Magorah, I’d completely forgotten.”
“Which is why I insisted upon coming here rather than having you come down to my shop for your fitting,” the seamstress said, clucking her tongue as she rose. “My goodness, you look like you’re about to drop. Do you need a few moments to refresh yourself?”
“No.” I shook my head, looking toward the garment bag that had been carefully laid out on one of the couches, and then toward the kit on the coffee table that I knew was stuffed with sewing supplies. “We should just get this over with.”
“That’s no way to talk about the most exciting wedding dress of the century,” Mrs. Lawry admonished as I began to shuck off my clothing. She and her assistant unzipped the garment bag while I stripped down to my underwear. “I must admit I had some misgivings about the design you settled on, but this is certainly my finest work to date.”
“It is gorgeous,” I said with a smile as I watched them pull out the dress. It was ivory silk, with a halter neckline that wrapped around my neck like a choker. The halter was embroidered with black lace, and that same lace bridged down the spine of my otherwise bare back, then merged with the train, which I’d made sure was detachable. That same lace covered the bodice, making it look almost like armor, and there was a leg slit in the front that allowed for easier movement.
The seamstress nudged me onto the stool she’d brought, and I held still as they secured the dress onto my body. It looked just how I’d imagined, fitting to my curves perfectly. There was nowhere to hide my weapons on the dress, but that didn’t matter. Fenris’s vast repertoire of magical spells included the magical sleeve pocket I’d wanted to learn for so long, and I kept my weapons in there now, along with a few other essentials.
“We’ll need to take it in here a little,” the seamstress said, pinching at the loose fabric around my waist. “You’ve lost some weight,” she accused.
I winced. “I’ve skipped a meal here and there,” I admitted. Or rather, I’d grabbed a handful of beef jerky or whatever else had been available. As much as I’d enjoyed breakfast with Iannis this morning, there were many days these past few months where we’d been too busy to sit down and enjoy a meal together.
“Well, you’d better not skip any more before the wedding,” she warned as she began to stick pins through the fabric while her assistant fussed with my train. “With your fast metabolism, you’ll become skin and bones, and that’s hardly an attractive look for a bride.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, studying my reflection in the mirror. Now that she mentioned it, I was looking a bit skinnier, and the shadows beneath my eyes weren’t particularly flattering either. Makeup would hide most of that, but still, she was right. I needed to take better care of myself.
But how was I supposed to find time for that when the responsibilities just kept piling on?
Suddenly, I felt a mad impulse to rip the dress off and run away from it all. To escape to some deserted island like the one Iannis and I had made love on for the first time, and run wild and free. Perhaps I’d even run around in panther form for a good long while.
Remember the honeymoon, I told myself for the umpteenth time today. It was beginning to sound like a mantra. This would all be over soon. I’d been through much worse than this. Surely I could handle a wedding, right?
6