“I thought that—” Katerina faltered.
Leni smiled with an indulgence that had been absent from her sister’s face for months.
“Thought that what—you would get married without the crowning?Stamata, agápi mou, it is the most important part. How else do you intend to show God your promises?”
“God has abandoned us,” Katerina said sulkily, only to receive a sharp look.
“You are here,” Leni said, grasping her sister’s wrists. “Alive. The man you love is alive. These are gifts. Nothing is for certain in this world, but faith is important. You must not lose your faith. Whatever path we are on, it is our responsibility to walk along it, not to question, not to feel resentful at being on this earth.”
Katerina sighed in defeat.
“It is OK to be afraid,” Leni went on. “There is no shame in fear, only in despair.”
“I am not afraid,” Katerina said harshly. “I am angry.”
Leni let out a low chuckle.
“Only you,” she said, “would find a reason to be cross on your wedding day. Now, go and see to the goats, and then we will dress you.”
Several hours later and true to her word, Leni ushered Katerina into their parents’ bedroom. A pail of warm water had been set to one side, a bar of olive oil soap on a small dish. While Katerina washed herself, Leni arranged a brush, pins, and a bottle of scent on the bed. When she laid a dress down next to them, Katerina’s heart caught in her chest.
“That is Mama’s,” she said.
“Nai,” Leni agreed softly. “She is small like you. I would have given you my wedding dress, but the hem of it would trail through the dirt. It is what she would want,” she added as Katerina continued to shake her head. “Before she went to Thira, Mama told me to look out for you, to be a mother if I must. This is me being a mother.”
The words should have been featherlight but landed heavily. Katerina knew that children were what her sister longed for more than anything else, though she had not yet been blessed with them. And now Michalis was about to leave again, taking that chance away with him.
She put up no further argument, raising her arms as Leni slid the silken folds of the dress over her head. It had a scooped neckline and long sleeves that tapered to a point. Katerina stood still as her sister shuffled around on her knees, pinning the dress in at the waist, arranging the material just so, her eyes moist as she fussed and fiddled.
“You look so beautiful,” she said. “Stefanos will not be able to believe his eyes.”
Katerina did not agree.
“What if he laughs at me?” she said as Leni began to braid her hair. “He has only ever seen me in my work clothes. That is the girl he fell in love with, not this doll, trussed up like a cake decoration.”
“Woman,” Leni chided gently. “You are about to be a wife,agápi mou. You are no longer a girl.”
They walked through the village with their heads down, smartoutfits shrouded beneath dark cloaks. Stefanos had gone ahead to the church with hiskoumbaros, having chosen Atlas to be his witness in place of Michalis. Katerina did not question her brother-in-law’s choice to stay behind, though it was impossible to miss the wobble in Leni’s lower lip.
“He is not himself” was all she would say.
The day was bright and the skies clear, a tepid wind blowing in across the silvery sweep of sea. Boats dotted the water, fishermen armed with hooks and lines, while ahead the domed church roof beamed its upside-down smile toward the heavens.
Katerina paused at the door, a pulse thudding in her ears. Leni took her trembling hand and squeezed it.
“Ready?”
She nodded, just once.
“I am ready.”
Stefanos was there, his beard trimmed and hair brushed back. Around him, candles flickered, shadows dancing on the pale walls. She moved as if drawn by a thread, as if their souls were already conjoined. She had felt it the previous night as their bodies came together: the throb of him inside her, a sensation of love so pure that it made her cry out.
She took his hands, the world retreating around them. The priest murmured words, placed the crowns on their heads, beckoned for Leni and Atlas to fasten the ribbons together. A ring was slid onto her finger, cold and solid; she spoke of duty, fidelity, and obedience. Around the altar they danced, once, twice, three times, her skirt swinging, the bleat of Leni’s sob as the priest made his blessing. Stefanos drew her into his arms. The uniform he wore smelled faintly of smoke, his breath when he kissed her was sweet.
“How long do we have?” she asked him afterward.
He cupped her face in his hands, dark eyes searching hers. There were flecks of gold in his. She tried to count them.
