I had no idea what he had said, so I threw my hands up. He was probably getting tired of the wait. If she didn’t meet me soon, the ride would be taken solo. Then I was going hunting.
“Ni tako dolgo, kot je naredil me pocaka,” a soft voice said from behind me. “Not as long as he made me wait for him.”
Then the LORD God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.” ... So the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the LORD God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man.
Those were the words I had planned on telling her, but the moment seemed too great to even acknowledge the sound of a breath or a heartbeat.
It seemed my silence was a gift to her; her cheeks turned the most beautiful shade of pink as I absorbed every inch of her from top to bottom.
Her gown was such a pale blue that it seemed almost silver in the soft winter’s light. The top gave the illusion that icicles, delicate silver flowers, and snow crystals clung to her skin, shimmering with her movements.
The dress came in at the waist, with a thin piece of silk wrapped around her small frame like a belt. The gown flared out, layers and layers of the same material used to create her dancing costumes flowing to the pure white ground. More embellishments were placed in thick clusters here and there on the first layer. She seemed to grow out of the icy ground, a miracle in this frozen world we were in. A veil that rivaled the gown covered her face.
“Scarlett—” I reached out to touch her skin, but my hand drifted across the soft fabric of the covering. My voice came out low, rough, her name the only word I could find.
“I know,” she said, grasping my hand, closing her eyes. “You don’t have to say another word. I feel you, Brando.”
“Mio marito,” I said.
“Yes.” She smiled. “I feel you,my husband.”
“Time to go,” I whispered.
Across Lake Bled we went, to the first of ninety-nine stairs. Gently, I swept her up in my arms, her pretty gown almost as heavy as she was. It fanned out in my arms, draping, as I started the climb, the veil sweeping the ground. Our immediate family and friends lined the way, watching as we made our way toward our future.
I wondered if this was what the journey to heaven was like.
The steps were long across, short going up, the climb steep, which made me keep my eyes forward and my grip tight. Her gorgeous green eyes were on me, slanted like an exotic cat’s, rapt and glazed with tears.
“Remember this, Ballerina Girl,” I said, my voice rough, but far from heavy with exertion. “I’d climb endless amounts of stairs if it meant I’d get to have you at the end of them.Il mio paradiso.”My heaven.
Sensing the smile on her face, I smiled back, and then joined her in silence. When I reached the ninety-ninth step, to applause and cheers, I did what any beast out of his mind in love and honor would do.
I married the girl.
* * *
The reception took place off of Bled Island, deep in a hidden forest, in an edifice that seemed older than the trees that surrounded it. Scarlett had explained to me on the ride over that her family could trace their roots back to the builder—some knight—who had originally set out to build a castle. Once he had the place near built, he looked up and saw a natural rocky slope, its jaws open to the world, and figured it would be better suited against attacks than the forest floor.
So that’s where the knight built his castle, inside a cave mouth. Because Scarlett’s family were known decedents, the castle had a standing offer for them—they were welcome to use the place for special occasions. After the reception, that’s where we would spend our wedding night.
The hall that hosted the reception was not small by any means. Over the years it had been added on to, but somehow the renovators kept the soul of the place intact. It had been transformed to fit the needs of the party.
White roses in silver vases were spread from one end to the other, and hundreds of candles were lit, providing warmth and light. A dance floor had been set up, and in another part of the building a bar. The floor resembled ice.
It was a wedding and reception fit for a member of the royal family. It was classy,classic, and romantic, in all the ways that she was.
During this party, I kept close to my wife. If her arm wasn’t in the crook of mine, my hand held hers, or was fastened to the small of her back. I had been so absorbed by our vows that I hadn’t noticed how many people had come to celebrate.
The walls of the old place seemed stretched beyond capacity. Countless hands had been shook, countless cheeks had been kissed, and all of the names would never be remembered.
Just after meeting one of Scarlett’s Scottish aunts, I ran into some guys that I worked offshore with. Placing my hand on her lower back, a sense of male pride made me stand even taller, the feeling so strong that even the beast was beatific.
“My wife,” I said, presenting her. “Scarlett Rose Fausti.”
She rewarded me with a smile and a deep crimson blush. I’d call her that forever just to see her smile that way and her cheeks turn red. She burned for me; her happiness fed my starving heart.
“How do you do,” she said, shaking each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet some of Brando’s coworkers. His friends. You better take good care of him while he’s away from me.”
