by V. St. Clair
“Gah—of course you do. Well, we’re right through those double-doors at the end of the hall.” She waved off the last of their escort and entered the room ahead of Jessamine.
True to her word, the hairdresser was already waiting for Jessamine, her styling tools laid out on an elaborately-carved wooden vanity. A second stylist was waiting behind a neighboring chair for Shellina.
Jessamine removed her light armor and sat down when instructed, trying not to feel disheveled next to her perfectly-composed sister, who had already been styled once today and always looked ready to be photographed. When the stylist removed the band keeping Jessamine’s hair in a ponytail, her red waves spilled out around her face with an obvious crease in them where the band had been.
“Are you sure you don’t want a proper up-do?” Shellina asked from beside her, making eye contact in the reflection of the mirrors. “I had them bring hair extensions if you changed your mind, so you could do something big and bold if you wanted.”
“I don’t want to carry around ten pounds of hair tonight,” Jessamine said with a grimace. “We’ll stick with the original plan; down, but out of my face.”
“Don’t worry,” the stylist said to the room at large. “I’ve got ornamental pins and flowers enough to make you glamorous, either way.”
Jessamine suppressed several sarcastic responses and let the woman get to work brushing her hair, taking the opportunity to scan the room in more detail in the reflection of the mirror.
It was a large space, with her and Shellina’s dresses steamed and hanging carefully on hooks at either side next to identical closets. Her shoes and jewelry had all been arranged on a neat little table nearby, along with a gift in a small white bag. Her stomach tightened unpleasantly at the sight of the circular table in the corner of the room with two chairs and a place-setting for two.
She might as well have left that part out entirely, Jessamine thought ruefully. But no, Shellina liked things to follow the proper protocol, whether or not they were useful. She had even had the tea cups and biscuits set out, as though she actually expected Jessamine to sit down with their mother and have tea.
Jessamine turned her eyes away from the table and the surge of loneliness it evoked. Under normal circumstances, after she was made up but before she put her dress on, she would sit down with her mother for a heart-to-heart talk before the wedding—a calm before the storm of ceremony and dancing. They would talk about little things: fond memories of the past, of how far they’d come together, of the future, or to bestow motherly advice. It was something most women looked forward to during the hectic frenzy of their wedding day.
She kept her focus on the lady styling her hair instead, wincing as her hair was pulled away from her face and secured with what felt like a wholly unnecessary number of jeweled pins and clasps.
So much for not wanting to carry around ten pounds of weight on my head.
Dark purple flowers were woven through her hair carefully to complement her dress, and Jessamine had to admit she liked the look very much when it was finished.
“You did an excellent job. Thank you,” she thanked the stylist before turning to her sister, who was having small rubies clipped around her braided crown of strawberry-blond hair, having opted for extensions.
“Oh it turned out so much better than I thought it would!” Shellina clapped her hands together, beaming and climbing out of her chair. Jessamine wasn’t sure what she was doing until she opened one of the double-doors, leaned her head out and said “Send in the makeup artists,” before ushering out the hair stylists.
Jessamine, who had also been about to stand, remained seated as two men walked in with large satchels of cosmetics and brushes.
She had to give her sister credit for her knack of picking the right people for the job, because Jessamine usually avoided makeup entirely. It made her feel unrecognizable and unlike herself. The man styling her had the unenviable task of making his Vicereine look suitable for her wedding without making her feel like a stranger in her own body, and he pulled it off amazingly.
After she and her sister thanked them and saw them out, Shellina turned to her and said, “I’ll just get my dress on and step into the waiting area while you have tea. You’ve got thirty minutes and then it’ll be show time.”
Confused, Jessamine watched her sister pull on the silky golden dress rapidly and said, “What are you talking about?”
“You know, the formal tea before the ceremony—lord, I thought you at least knew something about wedding customs,” Shellina rambled off cheerfully, examining herself briefly in the mirror and oblivious to her sister’s pain.
“I know what the formal tea is, but our mother happens to be dead, Shelly.” Jessamine hadn’t meant it to sound as snappish as it did, but her nerves had been stretched thin today and it was becoming harder to conceal her unhappiness.
Shellina looked up, shocked by the outburst.
“I—I know that. I was going to just leave it out altogether, but she thought it would be okay to have her stand in because you’re all alone—well, not alone, that sounded ghastly, I’m so sorry! But if you’d rather not I can just—”
“Who are you talking about?” Jessamine demanded, as Shellina backed up to the door and opened it as though desperate for escape.
A familiar voice said, “I thought I might take tea with you today, in place of your mother.”
Jessamine blinked and fought back a sudden urge to cry in relief. She wasn’t alone. There was still someone by her side, someone who had been like a mother to her in many ways since she was a little girl, even when Jessamine didn’t realize it or appreciate it.
“I would be honored, Hanna.”
18
Jessamine Elaria
Hanna took the seat across from her and poured the tea, already dressed for the wedding in a sweeping cream colored dress.
“I hope you don’t mind me filling in for her on your big day,” Hanna began, while Jessamine sat there, speechless. “I wanted to mention it to you at lunch, but I couldn’t get a private word with you at the time.”
“No, I appreciate it.” Jessamine sighed and blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “When I went to bed last night, I didn’t expect to be such a mess today. It never really occurred to me that I’d be lonely when I’m surrounded by so many people, or that I would feel the absence of my parents so strongly today.”
“I expected it, and I wanted to remind you that you aren’t alone.”
“Then you know me better than I know myself,” Jessamine admitted. “And longer than I knew my own mother, come to think of it,” she added in surprise, counting up the years in her head.
“Do you remember when you were seven and you tackled that Minor down the stairs?”
Jessamine snorted in amusement and said, “Yes, and Father was trying to be properly solemn when the Minor complained about his broken arm, but afterwards he laughed for half an hour. I don’t even remember why I did it.”
“You had been watching the Majors sparring in their training room and had gotten it into your head that you needed to start conditioning yourself against adults.”
“Yes, but why that particular Minor, of all people?”
“When your father asked you about it, you unabashedly told him the Minor looked weak enough for you to take in battle, so you snuck up on him when he was near the stairwell and tackled him straight down it.”
“I’m lucky Father didn’t punish me for it.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck in the fall. The poor Minor absorbed most of the damage when you went tumbling together.”
“Then I’m doubly indebted to him,” Jessamine mused. “I should find him and apologize properly.”
“He quit about three weeks after the incident.” Hanna chuckled.
“Ah, well, then he clearly wasn’t tough enough to last in the government.” Jessamine grinned. “A true Provo should be prepared to be thrown down a flight of stairs by a screaming seven-year
-old at any moment.”
“Feel free to add it to the training matrix,” Hanna said airily, taking a bite of biscuit.
“You punished me, if I recall.” Jessamine narrowed her eyebrows. “You made me write an essay on the importance of thinking through consequences before taking action against others.”
“I also got you bumped into the advanced combat class.”
“Father did that!”
“Only after I convinced him you were ready for it,” Hanna admitted, smiling in the face of Jessamine’s surprise.
“How many other things have you done for me that I don’t even know about?”
“Does it matter? I’ve never needed credit for your successes. I only wanted to see you successful and happy.”
“But I’m not,” Jessamine frowned thoughtfully. “Happy, that is. I suppose it remains to be seen whether I’m successful.”
Hanna set her tea down and said, “I know. When things have settled down a bit more and you’re more confident in your position, you’ll feel better.”
“Maybe.” Jessamine fidgeted idly with her tea cup. “I just wish I could fast-forward through this whole event and lock myself in my bedroom.”
Hanna raised a sympathetic eyebrow at the sentiment and said, “It won’t be as bad as you’re dreading. You’ve been thinking about it for months so it’s become a large, unimaginable thing to you, but you’ll see it’s really just an elaborate excuse for a dance.”
“That’s about the only part I’m actually looking forward to,” Jessamine admitted. “Topher promised me a dance tonight, so for five minutes I’ll feel safe and happy. The rest of the time, I’ll be feeling exposed in my backless dress, watching left and right for people who look like they’re getting ready to stick a knife in me.”
Hanna frowned and said, “You love him, don’t you?”
“Who, Topher?” Jessamine was surprised she even had to ask the question. “Of course I do. This would all be so much easier if it was him I was getting ready to marry. Instead I get to watch him walk down the aisle with my sister, who is wildly obsessed with him and determined to have him for herself.” She grimaced. “What if he wants her back? What if they do ask me for permission to marry one day? Do I just grit my teeth and give them my blessing, trying to ignore my feelings until the day I’m eventually murdered by terrorists, or do I deny them their chance at happiness and ruin my relationship with both of them?”
Hanna seemed oddly stricken by the confession. It suddenly occurred to Jessamine that she had never actually admitted to loving Topher—not even to Hanna.
Before Hanna could open her mouth to answer, Jessamine said, “I’m being silly. I would give them permission, of course. My last name and birth order dictate that my obligations to Elaria come before my personal happiness. Shellina was never intended to be the Vicereine, and has more leeway in these matters. Besides, she has a good relationship with most of the important families on the planet. She could likely maintain the shipping contract I’m getting through my marriage to Darius without having to marry him herself. I always thought of her parties and socializing as a weakness, but it was actually very smart. She has allies. People know her and like her. Plenty of people would probably love to see her named Vicereine instead of me.”
“Only those who don’t know or care what the role of Vicereine actually entails,” Hanna corrected her. “Yes, she has more social connections than you probably ever will, but she is also the one who panicked and gave control of the planet to a Provo-Major when the pressure was on. You were never one to crack under pressure.”
Jessamine shrugged.
“She’s young and she wasn’t expecting the trauma of that night. She’s been training rigorously to improve, and all of her tutors are reporting rapid progress.”
“You are better suited to the position than she is,” Hanna insisted.
“She would have more support within the Provo. She shares their bias against the Gifted and is more—”
“Malleable?” Hanna offered.
“Open to influence, I was going to say.” Jessamine frowned. “Maybe with her in charge things would settle down and the assassination attempts would stop.”
“The revolts would increase tenfold from outside of the government. The Gifted would continue to be oppressed and slaughtered indiscriminately. The government would be more stable but the world at large would suffer.”
Jessamine exhaled.
“You’re right. Sometimes I forget who I am fighting these battles for. Thank you, for always being there to give me advice, even when I don’t want to hear it, and for helping me succeed, even when I don’t appreciate it.”
Hanna stood up and came around the table to hug her. It felt like it had been a long time since she had really been embraced.
“Enough of this dour talk,” Hanna wiped a tear from her eye and smiled. “Your sister left you a gift.” She pointed to the white silk package.
“Shellina’s a traditionalist. It must be a deck of fortune cards.”
Nonetheless, Jessamine retrieved the package and pulled the silk ties open, chuckling at her foresight. The deck of cards was an old custom, in which the bride could gather with her closest girlfriends and take turns asking questions about her marriage and consulting the cards for answers.
“I’ve never really bought into fortune cards,” Jessamine sighed. “But I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try, since Shellina went out of her way to buy them for me.” She extended the deck to Hanna, who drew two cards at random and read them aloud.
“Your marriage will be defined by…the first thing you did this morning.” She laughed and said, “Well, did you do anything exciting this morning?”
Jessamine’s blood ran cold.
I accidentally beat an injured prisoner to death.
Forcing her mind into action, she plastered a smile on her face and said, “I went to the bathroom. Does that mean my marriage will be shit?”
Hanna snorted so loudly she began to choke, throwing her two cards at Jessamine, who began laughing as well.
“Excellency, it’s time to go.” A voice called from outside the door, ending the moment of levity.
“I’m not dressed yet!” Jessamine panicked, but Hanna made a face and said, “You’re the ruler of the planet. They can wait for you.”
A moment later Hanna released her from the hug and moved to the door, stopping at the threshold to say, “When you walk into that gaudy ballroom, hold your head up high and remember that your friends are with you.”
She closed the door and Jessamine stripped off her clothing and changed as quickly as possible, feeling bolstered. If she could just make it through the ceremony without falling on her face, the worst would be over and she could hunt down Topher for their promised dance together.
The deep purple silk fit perfectly, and as she took a last look in the mirror she actually felt pretty. She pulled on her flats—she insisted on being able to maneuver and fight if she needed to—and a gold armband once belonging to her mother.
Other than a discreet security detail, no one was waiting for her when she stepped into the hall. She walked the length of the hallway alone, her adrenaline building and heart racing as she watched the display near the door to the ballroom. The part of the room she could see on the monitor was packed with people, all watching expectantly and taking pictures as the members of Darius’ retinue and hers walked through the main entrance and down the length of the aisle to their seats. She smiled when she saw Hanna walking beside some relation of Darius’ to the front row, where they separated and sat on opposite sides of the aisle.
Shellina and Topher were the last to enter the ballroom, and Jessamine frowned when her sister took Topher’s arm. They walked side-by-side down the length of the aisle and took their seats closest to the altar. Jessamine hated to acknowledge that they made a beautiful pairing.
A red light flashed above the monitor, indicating it was time for her to go. Taking a deep breath for strength, Jessamine
opened the door and walked slowly into the ballroom alone.
Darius’ door at the opposite end of the room opened at the same moment, and he stepped out in an expertly-tailored black suit, bracketed on either side by his parents. They linked arms with him and moved down the side aisle as a group, with her keeping pace so they would meet in the middle.
She felt the asymmetry quite powerfully the moment everyone stood to watch her. Filming equipment was everywhere and people were photographing her from all directions, whispered commentary filling the room like a light breeze. Jessamine remained poised but not tense, forcing a soft expression onto her face to show she was at ease—though she wasn’t. She heard a whispered comment about the faint scars on her back but ignored it, eyes locked on Darius.
They reached the middle at the same time, and Darius’ mother and father presented him to her. She took each of their hands briefly and accepted their offering of their son, and giving herself in return. She took Darius’ arm and they set off down the remainder of the aisle together, with his parents walking much farther behind them until they could discreetly take their seats. For once, Jessamine was glad of Darius’ presence, as it helped pace her and shielded her from half the room until they reached the altar.
The officiant began reading the lengthy nuptials, and Jessamine was grateful to be wearing comfortable shoes as she stood there trying not to look bored, holding hands with Darius and keeping her eyes locked on his. Staring at him gave her an excuse not to look at the front row of spectators, who were all close family and friends. She couldn’t help but remember Topher’s offer to run away with her if she gave him the nod during the ceremony. He was doubtless joking, but she had to avoid making eye contact with him either way. It would be too painful to look at him right now.
After an interminably long ceremony, they exchanged rings and kissed each other on the cheek. This wasn’t unusual in political alliances, though there had been quite a lot of discussion between her and Darius on what message they intended to send. In the end, her argument won, as she didn’t want to seem love-stricken and weak if they opted for a more romantic closing, and they stepped apart and took hands to be announced officially as Vicereine and Viceregal of Elaria. It grated to hear Darius introduced as a Viceregal.
