What did leaving her magic to me do? What does it mean? Am I supposed to be helping them? And if so, how?
I wish I knew. As usual, nothing in my life comes with a manual. Of course, to be fair, when things do come with a manual, I usually ignore it. Or throw it in the trash by accident.
“We can cut the lace here off,” the woman says. “Then it’ll look a lot more sleek and modern.”
I drop a hand over hers. “Don’t,” I say. Maybe losing my mom broke my brain, but I don’t want a modern dress. “I’m marrying someone who’s thousands of years older than me. I feel like vintage is just the thing.”
The woman frowns. No sense of humor, this one.
“Oh, that fits pretty well.” Axel tilts his head as he walks into our room and smiles. “I like it.”
“You can’t be here.” The woman stands abruptly to block his view of me. “It’s bad luck.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure those rules apply when you’re?—”
She waves her hands around wildly. “The rules always apply.”
Axel actually pulls a hilarious face, which I can still easily see over the woman’s head. “Well, I’ll try to block out my awareness of you through the bond too, so that I’m surprised by the fact that you’re complying with human tradition and wearing a white dress even though we already have an egg together.” He widens his eyes, pivots on his heel and walks back through the doorway and into the hall outside our bedroom.
“You’re sharing a home already?” The woman shakes her head and tsks. “Never a good idea.”
“Did you hear the part about the egg?” I can’t help poking at her a little.
She just keeps shaking her head, but eventually she stops telling me that I’m doing things all wrong. When she comes back the next day with the dress, I forgive her for being a little old-fashioned and stiff. She can be as awkward or rude as she wants, because she’s actually a wizard.
Mom’s gown, that was my grandmother’s dress, was old. It looked tired. Some parts had even been moth-eaten. There was beautiful silk with a lot of lace trim, and it had wide straps that widened as they went down, leaving room for my wings. But the dress was a mess.
This muttery woman expanded the line just a bit in the back to allow my wings to fit easily, and she’s replaced all the moth-eaten bits flawlessly. The biggest change, however, is that instead of removing the lace, she left it as instructed and she added large swaths of ribbon embroidered roses, climbing like vines up the gown in asymmetrical patterns, wider at the bottom, but pulling through all the way to the bodice in smaller and smaller circumference sizes. The colors add vibrancy and unicity to an otherwise quite outdated gown.
She’s perfectly blended the past and my future in a way that is very, very Liz.
“It’s perfect.” I burst into tears. “My mom would have loved this.” Now I’m bawling so much I’m worried I’ll get tears all over the gown. “I love this.”
My darling dragon nearly knocks the wall down shoving his monstrous head into the room. What’s wrong?
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Look.” I spin around.
“No, don’t spin,” the woman shrieks. “I only tacked the roses on. I wanted to make sure you liked them.”
I nod. “I love them.”
Azar sighs. Don’t scare me like that.
“I’m so sorry.” I wipe at my eyes. “I’ll try not to be overcome with a combination of joy and delight about the wedding I’m about to have to the love of my. . .life feels like the wrong word.” I smile. “I’ll try to just be ‘meh’ about our upcoming wedding from here on out.”
His smirk warns me that he’s about to roll his eyes. Watching a massive, terrifying dragon roll his big, beautiful eyes will probably never get old.
“I love you,” I whisper.
I like you well enough, I suppose.
I throw the pin cushion at him, but he’s already ducked out and it hits the wall, scattering pins all over the floor. The dress-lady isn’t pleased. But it’s fine. Everything is fine.
I’m marrying Axel.
The next few days are full of so many meetings and fittings that it’s all a blur. Axel surprises me over dinner two days before the wedding by telling me his father wants to come. “Oh, I mean, yes. That’s great.” I frown. “Is he going to. . .”
He folds his hands together in front of me. “Try to blast us?” His eyebrows rise. “Attack humans? Stab you in the chest?” He laughs. “He swears he won’t.”
