I also saw Frey’s galleon, The Finnie, anchored out there.
And the Premier ofFleuridia’sship, which was smaller than The Finnie, and strange to me, because I’d neverseen anything like it.The only way to describe it was sleek and chic andrad.
There were a few other ships anchored, because our guestlist had gone from around seventy-five, which was what could fit inDalwin’sprivate temple, to over five hundred, which waswhat fit in the temple in Castledge, the large-town-almost-city just down thecoast.
This was my life, this magical world filled with glitter andcastles and galleons, kings and queens and dukes, flowers and hats and blue,blue seas.
In a couple of hours, I was going to be a Marchioness.
I was going to miss my friend Holly, and the Aunt Mary Iknew all my life, and tons of other people and things.
But I smiled at the vista before me knowing the girls wereright.
I was about to becomeSatrineCopeland, Marchioness of Remington, the future Duchess of Dalton.
Far more importantly, I was officially about to becomeLoren’s.
This world was his.
And there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
Loren
“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Loren muttered.
“Calm down, man,” Croft ordered, but his voice was filledwith amusement.
Loren seared him with a look.
Which, of course, made Croft burst with laughter.
And his other brothers besides.
“What reason could there possibly be to separate a man fromhis woman on the eve of their wedding?”Loren went on grumbling.“They’remadder in her world than they seemed when I visited, and they seemed unhingedwhen I was there.”
“It’s as if he thinks she’ll flee,” Middy said to Holt.
“I would flee, laying my eyes on this bloke,” Holt replied.“He’s a foul-tempered bastard.No one would think he’s imminently to marry oneof the greatest beauties in our land.”
Loren’s brow went up and he asked dangerously, “One of?”
“Right,thegreatest beauty,” Holt muttered, hislips quirking.
“Fucking hell,” Marlow whispered.
Loren turned to Marlow.
He then turned in the direction Marlow was gazing, which wasout the windows.
And there she was, his father assisting as she alighted fromthe carriage.
Her gown was mostly white, an odd choice, but onSatrine, it was incredibly fetching.The long-sleeved topwas netting stitched with the finest embroidery which made it seem like hervery skin shimmered and was adorned with flowers.The skirts fell in full,gathered sheets of tule, with an underskirt in dark gray that gave it depth andmade it interesting.
And on her head was a wide, graceful hat, a large rosette atthe front, the brim lined and double-edged, dropping cheekily over one eye, butit was much longer in the back, dipping down like a veil.It was the mostgraceful, stylish hat Loren had ever seen.
Her lips were bright red.
And the wedding garland she carried draped across both palmswas rife with velvety black roses that looked as if they were snipped after arain, and there were tufts sitting amongst the blooms of something Loren didn’tknow what it was, but it was webby and delicate and shimmering and ethereal.
