When the big day arrived at last, Lurielle was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
She'd already told everyone she knew how amazing Grace had been, how accommodating Saddlethorne's facilities were, and how easy her wedding had turned out. When Grace had called her in the middle of the afternoon, two weeks out from the big day, Lurielle had clenched in panic. The event coordinator normally emailed, occasionally texted. Calls were reserved for something serious, decisions that needed to be made immediately, small snafus that required workarounds. Her to be calling this close, set Lurielle's teeth on edge.
"I had to call and share this news with you, because frankly, an email just will not cut it." Grace's voice had been as chipper as ever, smiling and unflappable. Lurielle held her breath.
"I just got a call from the planner for the Hemming wedding. They want to book the farm for the weekend of your ceremony."
No. Lurielle reeled at her desk, grateful she was already sitting down. If the next words out of the human woman'smouth wereso we’re going to have to cancel, she was driving to Saddlethorne right then and there, to start setting things on fire.And then we'll move onto downtown. Sorry about your business district, Jack. Your son thinks he's the only one entitled to get married this year, so now you have to pay.
"So I told her that we didnothave any availability on the Saturday she was requesting, so they'll simply have to take the Sunday. Can you even believe it?" On the other end of the line, Grace cackled. "With two weeks to go! I get to put on a brunch for the out of town families. I'm just dying over the audacity, and I thought you would appreciate it."
Everything was locked and loaded and ready to go. The tables were simple and elegant, the outdoor pavilion would be strung with lights, making it seem as if tiny, luminescent pixies were floating through the air. Her dress had been delivered by Philomel in the middle of the night, and was hanging in her closet, the color of the summer sky. The food was ordered, the drink package picked out, the flowers arriving via the Perfect Petal for Grace to assemble, and her bridal attendants had their dresses.
All she had to do now was survive.
Despite his assurance that they would be coming down for the true fire oath before the clan, part of Khash's family had arrived several days before the ceremony. Lurielle was relieved that his eldest sister and her husband, as well as the brother he was closest with and his adorable grandmother were in attendance. She could put up with his sister Khel, she’d told herself with confidence seventy-two hours earlier.
Now though, she wasn’t too sure.
"Khash, I'm telling you, I'm as lost as last year's picnic egg. My brother, the big city slicker, gettin’ married on a farm. Lurielle, I hope he didn't tell you any tall tales about him helping out outside in the garden when he was a boy."
His sister Khel was just as sharply barbed as she'd been last year, and Lurielle felt someone strike a match to that pool fire in her belly all over again. She smiled, beaming like the blushing bride she was, she reminded herself, and not the overprotective she-elf who would hunt her enemies, as her ancestors had been.
"Well, I wouldn't expect that he did. You don't get into that kind of school unless you keep your nose to the books night and day. But that's okay. I'm the one who picked the farm. He just needed to be able to pay for it, and trust me, it's not cheap. So it’s a good thing he did all that studying."
Laughter all around, especially from her Cambric Creek friends, who knew the truth of her words.Not just the Southerners who can serve it back.After all, she had grown up in an enclave. Life in the club. She'd never been good at it, had never fit in, but she had been there. She couldn't serve up a backhanded insult as prettily as Silva likely could, but Silva wasn't there, and Lurielle was on her own.That's fine. You can do this.
She couldn’t pretend that she wasn't hurt over Silva's inaction. She understood that everything was too fresh, the younger elf still too broken back in the winter months to participate in anything, but now . . . It had been months. Silva had made a shocking recovery, back in the office, back in her pretty little dresses, and apparently, back at the club.With Tannar.
If she and Ris would've taken a bet earlier that year on how long it would've taken Silva to recover from Tate's absence, Lurielle didn't know that she would've won. After all, she was young and beautiful. She had the whole world ahead of her in a very long life. But she would never have been a million years guess that Silva would have moved on as quickly as she did, with the exact opposite of Tate in every way. Tannar was the kind of elf Ris had always claimed Silva would end up with. Clean-cut, club bred. The kind of elf Lurielle hated.
She was hurt that Silva had dropped out of the wedding completely, and she could pretend otherwise. Lurielle didn't even know if she would attend. She’d not received an RSVP, and she refused to ask.
Silva and her ability to deliver up a clapback and make it sound like admiration weren't around, and Lurielle would need to make do on her own.
Now she was in the bridal salon at the back of the main farm building, sitting in the cool air conditioning as Ris did her makeup and the troll from the salon put the final touches on her hair.
Despite the fact that everything was finished, every last detail taken care of and all she needed to do was show up, even though getting the wedding over with had been her goal from the beginning and now was her chance, Lurielle felt as if she were going to hyperventilate.
Her unruly blonde hair had been fashioned into a loose twist, spiraling from the crown of her head, secured in a low ponytail that had been curled in loose waves. The troll had pulled out a box of bobby pins, each capped with pearl, scattering them through the twist.
"Look, I think we can pull off a full contour. It's really not that hot. I'm just going to need to spray the shit out of you, okay?" She glowered up at Ris, who apparently decided Lurielle no longer needed to be involved in the conversation, turning back to her bag of makeup. Hedda was on standby, ready with the shapewear, and Dynah, whom Lurielle had asked to step in for the missing Silva, was busy rearranging the water bottles on the countertop, not knowing what else to do to be helpful.
When she heard a flurry of voices behind her, Lurielle clenched, assuming it was Khash's sister, coming to carp about something else. Instead, the tinny voice of her great-grandmother gasped, squealing like the pink loving princess she still was even at her advanced age.
She struggled to stand up, nearly knocking Ris down in her haste, spinning as soon as she was upright. Instantly, her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh,comeon! I have even sprayed you yet!"
Her grandmother stood with her arms out, mouth open, gawking as if she were seeing the sun goddess incarnate, and not her great-granddaughter wearing cotton shorts and an oversizedfriends of the observatorytank top.
"Oh, my darling girl. Look at how beautiful you are."
She would apologize to Ris later, she thought as the tears fell, her nose instantly feeling stuffed up, fully knowing she was watching like a tomato as she rushed forward to embrace her tiny Nana.
"Nana, I'm so glad you're here. I wasn't to do this without you."
She was going to need a box of tissues to blow her nose, a hit of nasal spray, eye drops that would clear the redness.I'll bet wherever he is, Grayson Hemming has bought up the entire town's worth of stock on all the above.
