I found myself adhering to the schedules and timelines of planners I’d never even met before. People with clipboards swarmed around the house, showcasing truly impressive levels of enthusiasm for things like seating arrangements and fabric swatches.
I nodded a lot and smiled when required but contributed absolutely nothing of value. Honestly, I could’ve set down a flowerpot where I was standing and no one would notice.
“God, the floral mockups are disgusting,” Eugenie said. “I’d never do it this way.”
Well, neither would I, but I wasn’t asked for my opinion.
Meanwhile, she swept into the room like a storm cloud in designer heels even though she hadn’t said a single word to me since she’d arrived yesterday. I hadn’t even had the courtesy ofa polite nod in my direction, but her opinions were loud and frequent.
“The roses are all wrong.” She waved dramatically at the poor florist. “This arrangement is completely unbalanced. It’s amateur at best.”
The man looked like he might actually cry, but it was Winnie who’d just had her entire vision verbally dismantled. A florist stood no chance against her, so when she’d told him what she wanted, he’d gone along without question.
I’d tried to suggest something much simpler, like wildflowers, but Winnie had looked at me like I’d just spat on the Queen Mother before she’d turned away, continuing to explain to the florist exactly what he was going to do.
She faced off with Eugenie now, not even flinching at the criticism. “Noted, but I disagree. Roses are classic. They provide a touch of class no other flower can parallel.”
I stood slightly to the side, watching them bicker and increasingly feeling like this had nothing to do with me. One of the planners stepped between them, an earpiece in her ear and her trusty clipboard held tight in her hands.
“They’re supposed to go to the castle in a few days,” she said. “We’ll need a final decision before the end of business today.”
I still didn’t understand why we couldn’t have just used local suppliers from the village for everything else and asked the footmen to bring us fresh flowers the morning of. Instead, we were soon transporting this entire production to the countryside like a glamorous traveling circus.
“Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even bothering with half of this stuff,” Eugenie said. “It’s all so overdone.”
Winnie spun on her, gaping and certainly not turning to find out whereIstood on all of this. “Stop being a brat. This will photograph beautifully. That’s why we’re doing it.”
The next few hours passed just like that, with the two of them politely tearing each other apart over every detail. Their relentless bickering only paused when they started giggling together over whatever suggestion I’d made.
At the final dress fitting later in the afternoon, I stood on the small platform in a guest bedroom while the seamstress made tiny adjustments to a gown I still wasn’t convinced I was going to wear. Eugenie had had it shipped from Chicago, but now, suddenly, she wasn’t so satisfied with it anymore. “It’s too soft. We needmore.”
“More of what, Lady Roderick?” the seamstress asked, eyeing the layered taffeta cake I was wearing like she wasn’t sure anythingmorecould be added to it.
As it happened, I agreed. It was already way too much. “It’s fine. Let’s just?—”
“I like the softness,” Winnie countered, speaking over me as if she wasn’t even aware I was in the room. “It’s whimsical.”
“It’s lazy craftsmanship, is what it is,” Eugenie said. “I honestly think that shop assistant sent us a poor imitation of the dress we chose.”
“Duly noted,” Winnie said. I was beginning to suspect it was her new version of ignoring people politely. “It’s still gorgeous, though.”
“I strongly disagree.”
While they went another round, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and finally just tuned them out. The girl staring back at me looked like she was about to get married, the dress perhaps a bit dramatic, but it certainly was awedding dress.
I tilted my head, trying to muster some sort of emotion as I imagined walking down the aisle wearing this. Excitement. Nerves. God, even fear would’ve been acceptable, but instead, I had nothing.
Everything in me felt hollow, like there was an empty pit where my feelings used to be. Whenever I tried focusing on the wedding, my mind simply drifted back to Will and the tiny, small moments we’d shared that had led to me falling in love with him. Like the day I’d been showing him around the castle grounds, walking him through the history while he asked questions like he actually cared about the answers.
I thought about the way he’d looked at me when I’d told him why I was doing this. I remembered how he’d cared for me when I’d had my first ever hangover, drawing those curtains shut and taking over the rest of my day to make sure I could rest.
Suddenly, a shrill laugh from Eugenie snapped me out of those quiet memories. The room felt too small, the dress too heavy, and the voices around me too loud.
“I don’t like the neckline,” she was saying. “How could you possibly think it works? That’s ridiculous.”
“You don’t need to cackle about it like a witch,” Winnie said. “The neckline is fine. It’s romantic.”
Eugenie scoffed. “It’s not fine.”
