My hands trembled as I slipped it onto my left ring finger. It fit perfectly, the upper point of the diamond reaching nearly to my knuckle. My hand felt weighted down, shackled.
I reached for the second box, my heart pounding. I didn’t know what to expect, and when I lifted the lid off, my heart nearly stopped.
Inside was a necklace of rubies, each several carats, set in halos of perfect, sparkling diamonds. And above, earrings to match.
“It’s like…like the Queen’s jewelry, or something…” I whispered, touching one of the stones. He meant for me to wear this on our wedding day. As if I were to be his queen.
“Anna, he is descended from an ancient Russian royal family. Those jewels are hundreds of years old.” My father’s voice was low, nearly a whisper. On my finger and on the table in front of me was more money than my father would ever make in his lifetime. I’d never seen anything so valuable up close, and I was meant to put them on. I hurriedly put the lid back on the box containing the necklace and earrings, but the weight of the ring on my finger wouldn’t let me forget. I glanced down at it again. For a moment, my traitorous heart skipped a beat. I’d never thought I’d touch anything so beautiful, let alone own it.
But what a terrible price it came with.
---
I was still in a daze when we arrived at the bridal boutique. My mother had clearly told her friend nothing of what had happened, because she was glowing when we walked through the doors.
“Oh, Anna! What a surprise! How romantic! A whirlwind romance, is it? Are you…you’re not pregnant, surely?” Her voice dropped a few decibels, her eyebrows raising as if to say: children these days…
I shook my head mutely. “She’s not pregnant,” my mother assured Brenna, her friend. “Just a whirlwind. It’s such an…unexpected match. But we are all so very happy for Anna and Dimitri.”
Brenna’s eyes went so wide that I thought they might pop out of her face, and her gaze immediately went to my left hand. Her face flushed, and I worried for a moment she might faint.
“Dimitri?” I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or furious. A moment later, I realized she was starstruck. And as I watched her eyes narrow, I realized she was also calculating the benefit to her business. She would be able to say she’d dressed Dimitri’s wife. I felt a flare of annoyance, and then mentally shrugged. At least someone was benefiting from this.
Someone other than Dimitri.
“I just want a simple dress,” I started. “Nothing flashy. Maybe not even white?”
She was already shaking her head. To my dismay, so was my mother. “With that ring?” Brenna exclaimed. “No, simple won’t do at all. Where is the wedding being held?”
I opened my mouth, realizing that I had no idea. My mother cut in smoothly. “At St. Patrick’s cathedral. In one month.”
Brenna’s face was awash with confusion. “But he’s…isn’t he…” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, cutting her eyes towards me. “A vampire?” I could see from her face that she was imagining all sorts of salacious goings-on between Dimitri and me. I could only imagine what kind of gossip she’d be circulating after this.
I could tell my mother was preventing herself from rolling her eyes only with great effort. “Now, Brenna, don’t tell me you believe all of those superstitions? That they’re creatures of the Devil and such. It’s foolishness, that’s all it is.”
“But the Church says…”
My mother waved a hand. “Bother what the Church says. Do you honestly think that Dimitri of all people won’t have what he wants?”
Brenna’s eyes widened, and I felt a cold knot in the pit of my stomach. Yes, he would have what he wanted. Me, and a church wedding, and all of the fanfare he could drum up. A pageant to reaffirm his position as the most powerful man in the city. A warning for anyone else who would cross him.
Brenna straightened, waving her hands in front of her face. “Alright, alright. Let’s get on with it then. Anna, that first dressing room is yours. I’ll take your measurements, and then I’ll start bringing you some gowns. What is your budget?”
“It’s being billed to Dimitri,” my mother said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket and handing it to Brenna. I hung back, feeling like a game piece, being pushed and pulled this way and that without any idea what was happening behind the scenes. “There is no budget,” my mother confirmed, and I saw that greedy light flare in Brenna’s eyes again.
In a whirlwind, I was in the dressing room, being measured and then left shivering slightly as Brenna pulled dresses from the rack. She’d exclaimed over my figure, and then darted out, promising to bring back the most beautiful dresses I’d ever seen.
I’d never really cared for shopping, and I hated trying on clothes. If anything, I preferred to shop online. But of course, a wedding dress wasn’t something I could do that with. And whatever the circumstances of my marriage, I didn’t want to deprive my mother of the opportunity to go dress shopping with her only daughter.
On the rare occasion that I had thought about the day I might get married, I had always pictured it outside, maybe on the side of a mountain, and I had always seen myself wearing a flowing, bohemian style dress, all gauze and chiffon, and a long veil that would blow in the wind.
I didn’t see anything like that in the stack of dresses that Brenna hauled into the dressing room. I obediently stepped into the first dress she pulled off of the hanger, and tried not to wince visibly as I saw myself in it. She clamped it firmly in the back and ushered me out.
It was a full ballgown, plain white satin, and strapless. There was a massive bow at the back, and I looked desperately at my mother as I walked out. I felt like a cake topper.
My mother bit her lip, and I could see she was trying not to laugh. There had never been a dress that was less “me”. “Maybe something a little more…elegant?” she suggested, and I could see the laughter still sparkling in her eyes. It relaxed me a little, and made it easier to pretend that this was an ordinary mother and daughter shopping trip.
I lost track of how many dresses Brenna brought me. They all made me feel awkward, weighed down, and like an entirely different person. They were all layers of silk and satin and beading and crystals, and I was nearly in tears by the time Brenna—with considerably more frustration—helped me out of the fifteenth or so dress we’d tried on. It was all too much.
I heard a soft rap at the edge of the door. “I found a few I’d like her to try on,” I heard my mother say, and her tone clearly said she wasn’t having any argument about it. I instantly felt my anxiety clear a little. She must have been looking while Brenna had been putting me in the last dress.
I heard Brenna huff a sigh behind me, but she pushed the curtain aside and took the dresses out of my mother’s hand.
The first one was an instant improvement. It was plain satin, strapless, with a softly fluted skirt and buttoned up the back. I felt lighter already. I stepped out, and I saw my mother breathe out. She’d been stressed for me, too.
“You look beautiful,” she said. “But it might be too simple for this kind of wedding.” I agreed with her. “I don’t really like strapless,” I ventured, and both Brenna and my mother looked sharply at me. I realized it was the first time I’d really spoken for the entire appointment. All of the dresses I’d tried on so far had been strapless.
“The other two I brought in have sleeves,” my mother said.
I went back into the dressing room. The second dress had crystals around the waist, and I shook my head. “I don’t want any of the crystals or beading,” I said, feeling more confident in asserting my opinion now. After all, if I had to go through with this, shouldn’t I be able to choose what I wore?
Brenna looked at me sharply, but took the third dress off of the hanger. It was the right size for me, too, so she was able to button it up instead of clamping it. I stepped out without looking in the dressing room mirror, wanting to see it in the large floor mirror. I crossed my fingers at my side and hope
d it would be the one.
“Oh, Anna,” my mother breathed when I stepped out.
I looked in the mirror, and my eyes widened.
The dress was a dream. It was a soft antique white, made of smooth satin covered in embroidered lace from the bodice to the hem. The sleeves were elbow length and fringed in soft eyelash lace, the neckline was sweetheart, dipping just low enough to enhance the shape of my bust without being too daring. It buttoned from the nape of my neck to the end of the train, which swept out behind me in a luxurious sprawl of satin and lace. It looked elegant, and it matched the heirloom feel of the jewels Dimitri had given me perfectly.
My mother came to stand next to me, and handed Brenna a veil she’d plucked off of the rack. It was cathedral length and raw-edged, exactly the type of veil I’d always pictured myself wearing.
My mother slid the comb into my hair, and I felt tears pricking at the edge of my eyes. It seemed so unfair that this moment should be happening like this, preparing me for a marriage I didn’t want. I set my jaw firmly. I would simply have to not think about it, and try to extract what little happiness I could from the event.
It was the only thing I could do.
3
Dimitri
The month passed more swiftly than I could have imagined. I spent the days throwing myself into my work, trying to distract myself so that I wouldn’t think so often about how much I missed Bernard, and about the upheaval that was likely to happen when Anna came into the house. I could still see the look of betrayal in Raoul’s eyes when I’d told him of my decision to marry Anna. It wasn’t so much the official status of Anna as my wife that bothered him, I thought. Raoul and I had had a sort of ceremony, over a century ago, marking him as my partner, using the rituals of vampires for such things. To me, it meant more than the human ceremony I would go through with Anna in two days. Anna would be with me until death, but Raoul would be with me for eternity. There was a monumental difference, and I felt that he knew it.
No, his hurt was in feeling that I was replacing Bernard so quickly. I’d held him that night, curled on the loveseat in front of the fire, and reassured him that the marriage was a statement only.
But this morning, when we lay in the massive, velvet-draped canopy bed in our bedroom, I could see the doubts in his eyes again. We were both naked, the heavy covers pushed aside, still damp with sweat. I was nearly ready to sleep, my body satiated, when I felt Raoul’s fingers touch mine. “She won’t come between us, will she?” His voice was quiet, so I almost missed what he said. “You won’t...touch her the way you touch me?”
“I won’t touch her at all,” I said gruffly, ready to sleep. It always amazed me how emotional Raoul was with me. With others, he was even more arrogant than I was, the polished and dapper gentleman to my slightly rougher personality. I supposed it was a mark of how much he loved me that he was so very vulnerable in private. “I’ve promised Anthony I would have nothing to do with her in that way. Not unless she wants it. And I don’t suspect she will.”
Raoul sighed softly. “Oh Dimitri. I know you. You’ll try to seduce her. You won’t be able to bear that there’s someone who belongs to you who doesn’t want you.”
I clenched my teeth, trying to be patient. I was exhausted, and the wedding was rapidly approaching. “Why is this upsetting you, Raoul? You were never jealous of Bernard.” In fact, sometimes the two of you were alone more often than we were, I thought, but didn’t say it. It was a pointless argument. We had never been monogamous, but Raoul had seemed satisfied with Bernard and I. If he had been with anyone else in the last several decades, at least, I didn’t know about it.
“Bernard was like us,” Raoul said. “He was one of us. She isn’t.”
I understood it then. While Raoul had always liked the novelty of humans, he had never been drawn to them the way I was—to their mortality, their fragility. He was jealous of Anna’s humanity, afraid that I would want her more than Raoul, who I could never lose, not truly.
I leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. “Raoul, we are each other’s, bound by rituals that are older and deeper than what I will take part in with Anna. Our bond cannot be broken.”
“So you won’t do the vampire marriage rituals with her, later?”
I tried to imagine Anna, the shy, tomboyish girl that I’d glimpsed on occasion on visits to her father’s shop, partaking in the blood ritual of the vampires. I could not even begin to picture it.
“No, Raoul. We will do the standard marriage ceremony, at St. Patrick’s—a place I absolutely abhor, as you well know—for the show of it. It will bring me publicity, and it will show those who deal with me that I am not to be trifled with. And then I will come back to you, and things will be mostly as they were before.”
“She will be on your arm for all of the official things.”
“And you will be there too, Raoul. As my right hand, as you have always been.” I took a deep breath. “I know you would rather I have killed Anthony outright. I know you are not happy with my decision. But it is my decision, and it will not be changed.” I squeezed his hand. “Get some rest.”
---
Raoul’s mood was nearly unbearable the day of the wedding. I dressed without him, looking in the mirror as I waited for the sun to go down and it to be time to head to the church. I stared at my wavering reflection. It was so foolish, the superstitions humans had about us. My reflection wasn’t as clear as a human’s might have been, though; the edges were blurry, as if to remind me always that I lived in some space between life and death, between human and…something else.
I shook my head and straightened my tie, shrugging on my jacket. This was a matter of business. There was no need to be getting emotional or existential. I would go through the ceremony, marry Anna, and come home and it would be business as usual. She would find something to occupy her, and all would be normal.
It was a particularly cold evening. By the time my driver pulled up at the curb of the church, snow was beginning to fall and stick to the sidewalk. I slid out of one side and Raoul out of the other, and I could tell he was studiously avoiding me. I didn’t respond. I simply couldn’t, right now. I needed to focus on what had to be done. Later, I could console him.
Raoul stood beside me as we stood at the altar, the priest looking as grim as I felt. He’d resisted the wedding mightily, but recanted after I made a sizeable donation. Everyone could be bought.
The music started, and I saw Anna’s mother, face pale, as she walked ahead of Anna, her only attendant. I hadn’t wanted to do the wedding party nonsense, and Anna had said nothing to me about it. I expected that she would neither want to lie to her friends about the circumstances of our marriage, or force her friends to go through the charade, as well.
Then the doors opened, and I turned to see my bride walking through the door on Anthony’s arm. I was utterly stunned for a moment, hit with such a blinding flash of déjà vu that for a moment I forgot where I was.
The picture of Anna in my head had always been the quiet, hoodie-wearing girl who helped her father in his shop, who stayed out of the way and never spoke to me. The woman walking through the massive double doors of the church was a vision.
I had married a human woman once, centuries ago when I was still minor royalty, a member of another minor noble house. She had died very soon after our wedding, and though time had blurred the memories, I still longed for her from time to time. I had truly loved her. For a stunned second, I thought I was there, in that Russian church, watching Katerina walk down the aisle.
Anna was wearing an antique lace gown, her face covered with a soft, gauzy veil that trailed down her back and swept behind her. The rubies I had given her and the engagement ring glowed in the light of the hundreds of candles lit in the church, and I swallowed visibly. Not even Katerina had been so beautiful, so ethereal. I heard Raoul clear his throat behind me, and I didn’t know if it was displeasure at my reaction or if he too was overwhelmed by her. I didn’t care. I couldn�
��t take my eyes off of her.
And then she was at my arm, her father placing her hand in mine, and the betrayal I saw in Anthony’s face immediately killed the sense of euphoria I’d had upon seeing Anna. The cold reality of why this marriage was happening settled in again, and I set my jaw, turning to face the priest.
I heard the vows being said, but all I could focus on was Anna’s face. I saw her clearly, so close to me. She seemed older than the girl I remembered. Her face was pale, her red-stained lips trembling as she listened to the priest. Her eyes were brown, shimmering, and I was suddenly seized with a desire to touch her face, to assure her that I meant her no harm. That I wouldn’t hurt her.
But of course I was hurting her, in this very moment. I was binding her to me, without love or affection. But I felt I had no choice, unless I was to cause her even greater pain by taking away her father.
I said my vows clearly and with certainty, and I was startled to hear Anna say hers in an equally calm and clear voice, with only the vaguest hint of a tremor. It impressed me, the backbone of this girl, to follow through on my demands and promise herself to me without any sign of fear.
“What God has joined together, let no man cast asunder,” the priest intoned. “Dimtri Sergeyevich, you may kiss your bride.”
She didn’t move. I took the hem of her veil, lifting the delicate material over her face. It glowed in the candlelight, and her eyes caught mine, her lips parting ever so slightly. I leaned towards her, caught in some emotion I couldn’t name. Perhaps it was only the centuries-old memory of Katerina, staring up at me in a church very like this one, waiting for my kiss.
Or perhaps it was the defiant look in Anna’s eyes, as if she dared me to do anything more to her than I had already done.
I leaned down, pressing my cool lips chastely against hers. I felt her stiffen slightly at my touch, and I expected that no one had warned her that I would not be as warm as she was used to, even when I’d recently fed. And I had forgotten to feed before we left, an oversight I now regretted. I knew it would seem thoughtless on my part.
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