I feign hurt. We won’t touch the punch of actual hurt I feel at the fact that Lorelei and Finley will not be having bridesmaids and groomsmen per stupid royal wedding laws. “What about me, older-by-one-minute sister of mine?”
“Yes, Lucy.” She rolls her eyes. “But you always look amazing, and you know that.”
I shrug, smiling wide at my beautiful twin. Her hair is sprayed back so that not a single flyaway occurs. The bun on top of her head consists of little ringlets with white flowers pinned in at strategic places. Soon, a crown will be placed on top, denoting her as Crown Princess of Korsa, a title she will upgrade to Queen in two weeks upon returning from her honeymoon.
She looks every part the princess one would imagine my sister to look at the moment. Her wedding gown is made of silk, fitted around her chest and waist, then flowy until it drapes the ground. There are no sparkles or lace or rhinestones as I would choose. It’s long-sleeve, the ends of each sleeve coming to a pointed “v” on her hands. The scoop neck shows off the Korsa family’s crest that she wears around her neck in the form of a necklace. She only dons simple diamond studs in her ears and the silicone engagement ring. (She prefers not to have a gem or metal on her fingers.)
I twist my own silver ring, wondering why I feel so nervous right now when it’s my sister walking down the aisle in front of the entire world.
“Can we have a moment?” I ask Mama and Dad, pointing between me and Lorelei.
“Of course, baby,” Mama says, taking Dad’s hand. “We will be right outside.”
Once the large, arched door to Lorelei’s room in Stjarna Palace closes, I take my sister’s hands. “This is happening, Lorelei. Tell me your true feelings.”
Her smile never dims as she gives my hands a squeeze before dropping them. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel queasy. The thought of everyone inside the church watching, the cameras on me, the world tuning in… It’s overwhelming. But I keep reminding myself that Finley will be right there beside me through it all, and that’s a comforting thought.”
“You guys are sickeningly sweet,” I blurt as tears press against my eyes. “I’m so dang happy for you, Lor. Can I please hug you?”
Lorelei takes a step in her white sneakers and wraps me in a tender hug. “I love you so much, Lucy. Thanks for helping me get to this moment in my life.”
“Whew, okay.” I release her and step back, dabbing at the liquid gathering underneath my eyes. “I love you, Lorelei. You are so deserving of this.”
She walks towards the door to let my parents back in as she says, “As you are deserving of good things, too.” She winks.
Mama and Dad rejoin us. They dote on Lorelei for a few more minutes before the wedding planner arrives to move us to our places. We are all escorted out to a royal limousine that will transport us to the First Church of Korsa where the wedding will be held. Once we are in front of the massive medieval-style church, complete with stained-glass windows that tell various Korsan mythology stories, Mama and I are escorted into the church to take our seats on the front left dark-oak wooden pew. I sweep the crowd as I walk, and I swear I see Stone in the back.
But a second glance reveals it’s just another tall, blond-headed man. Many of these Korsan men are tall with blond hair and blue eyes.
There I go, chasing shadows again…
There has to be over five-hundred people here, and I know my ex is not one of them. I briefly say a prayer that Lorelei will not panic and bolt (or pass out) the moment she lays eyes on this massive crowd.
As I sit, I wave to Finley who looks absolutely dashing in his princely attire in Korsan colors of navy blue, gold, and white. He waves back with a winning smile on his face, and then I briefly bow my head towards the King who is sitting in an overseeing position upon his golden throne. Above him is the Cross of Christ.
King Erik smiles gently and nods his own head in recognition, and for a brief moment, disbelief that I’m even remotely connected to this life washes over me. The urge to take notes throughout the ceremony for future books is strong, but I remind myself I’m here to enjoy this moment, celebrate my sister and Finley, and continue taking every passing scene in my life as it comes. My therapist, Brandi Kelly, gave me that advice, and I can’t remember a time where I’ve felt so content.
Of course, mending my relationship with Jesus has been beneficial. Grandma Netty’s note in her journal about surrendering to something stuck with me after I read it on the beach trip. When I got home, I made the conscious choice to surrender everything to God and see what comes of it. The next morning, I picked my troubles back up in the form of social media stalking Stone, but then God reminded me that I had surrendered it, so I gave it back to Him. Every single day has something that I have to give over to God. Even if I have to give it to Him every five seconds because I’m stubborn and anxious.
But I no longer feel defeated. I don’t think of myself as used, dirty rags.
I am a daughter of God. I’m loved, cherished, and forgiven, even when I still stumble back into old ways. I’m not stuck there anymore.
I’m healing.
So much so that Stone hasn’t been the sole object of my prayers lately. Instead, I’ve been praying over my literary future, my family, and my friends. I’ve started looking outward and upward instead of inward and downward.
And it’s made all the difference.
Queen Sylvia arrives, and I catch my breath at how beautiful she is with her silvery white hair and Korsan blue gown. She’s positively regal, and my heart stirs when I remember my twin will be in this very position one day.
She’s going to rule the land in business-casual attire and tennis shoes, of course, but still.
Finally, Finley’s siblings filter in, and I quickly wave at his younger sister, Astrid, as she sits on the opposite side of the aisle from me.
“Eternal Source of Light Divine” by Handel starts playing, and I nudge Mama, reminding her she has to stand as the mother of the bride before the rest of us can. Her blue eyes sparkle with tears as she smooths down her dress and stands, turning her attention to the back of the church where Lorelei will enter momentarily.
I stand along with the rest of the crowd as my twin and father enter through the dark, wooden-framed arched doors.
