She’s completely boneless and unable to communicate, so I lift her up off the dressing table to avoid any of her juices messing up her dress and carry her to the bed.
We stay there, spooning.And I think it’s the most normal thing I’ve ever done.I lay my head on her back and close my eyes, wishing it wasn’t the first or the last time it would happen.
Wondering whether it’s better to have had her, knowing I have to lose her, or if I should never have come here at all.
My chest aches so hard, I’m struggling to breathe against her skin.Strange really, that we can ache for something we’ve never even had.
Chapter12
Penelope
My whole life, Morrigan has been composed.She’s calm and controlled.Everything, and I do mean everything, is thought through, planned and strategised down to the most minute of details.How she ended up falling for the living chaos that is Stirling, I’ll never quite know.But as I open the door to her dressing room, I come to a grinding halt.
Morrigan, in her black lace wedding underwear is pacing back and forth.Up and down she strides across the room, wearing a lovely line in the carpet.The air is hot and sticky with a sweet sort of frazzle.The room is just like any other in the palace, grand, with elegant furniture, oil paintings on the walls and in this particular space, a sofa, armchairs, a bar, a dressing table and long mirrors hung on the walls—perfect for getting ready.
Morrigan aggressively twiddles her fingers, bending her thumbs and shoving them in her face and around her head.Why is she using magic to do her makeup?Her hair moves and swirls.But it’s not until she turns to face me that I realise the problem.
Dahlia glances at me, her face taut as she peeks back into the room.“I think you’re safe in here, maybe I’ll leave you to handle this one on your own.”
“Wait just a second?I may need a favour,” I say and step inside.“What’s going on, Morrigan?”
My sister halts turning to us.Dahlia averts her eyes from a half naked Morrigan, and I try extremely hard not to show any reaction at the state of her appearance.
It’s… bad.
“I… I can’t do it,” she says and then flops on the floor and starts crying.Like hysterically sobbing.
What.The.Fuck?I mouth at our mother over Morrigan’s head.Mother stops chewing her nail and gesticulates wildly at the back of Morrigan’s head for me to do something.As if I can magically fix it, when we all know I can’tmagicallyfix anything.
Mother gestures more aggressively so I skooch down and kneel by Morrigan, pulling her chin up to look at me.Her skin is a mess of blotchy red, smeared mascara and daubs of various shades of eyeshadow.There must be seven different colours, none of them matching.
Gods, it’s worse than I thought.Her hair, while dyed to perfection, is half in and half out of what was supposed to be her coiffed style for the day.There’s a bird’s nest on one side, a plait that’s partially tangled and still managing to fall loose.
Morrigan’s bottom lip wobbles but she finally answers my question.“Daria said there was some issue with security clearance and given all the threats, she wouldn’t budge on it.I told her it’s the same makeup artist that’s worked on Mother for a gazillion different events.I tried begging but she put her foot down and said no.”
“Okay, and how did we get to… ah, this…” I pull back and gesture at her face.
“I tried to do it myself?—”
“Classic Morrigan,” I huff.
She glares at me.
I wave her off.“Sorry.Not helpful.I’m an arsehole.Continue.”
She pouts but says, “I tried to do it, but it didn’t look right.So, I tried to fix it, but I made it worse.And then I got stressed.I tried again but the more I tried to fix it, the more my magic fritzed because...”
“Because it’s a big important day and you’re emotional and lost control?”I say, running my fingers through her hair.
She purses her lips and then says, “Exactly.I can always fix things.”Her bottom lip wobbles, her eyes go watery.“But I can’t do it.I don’t have time to learn the magic.”
“Do you trust me?”I ask.
Her face scrunches into a pained expression.There’s a stagnant pause and then we both laugh.I get it.We’ve not exactly had the best sisterly relationship, have we?But on this I can help.
“I can’t do what you do, Morrigan.I’ve never been able to harness magic the way you do.I can just about change my lipstick.I didn’t master hair colouring, or those cool outfit changes you do.I had to learn everything the hard way.But it does mean I can fix this.Will you let me help?I’ll even let you have my wedding present if it helps…”
She lets out a little whimper, a couple of those unshed tears spill out.“You already loaned me Nana’s earrings.”
