Ella’s familiar, a turtle dove, cooed a few notes of greeting as I came in. Everyone else had arrived early, chiming in with hellos and waves. I scanned the faces. Fae, Camilla, my mum, and Kessian’s were the familiar ones. The empty spot on the sofa was better suited to Amelia, but she wasn’t here.
I sat there anyway. “I thought of something while you were out.”
“Can we save that chat for later?” Mum interrupted. “Just until after the fitting.”
“Right. Of course.” I fumbled for something less awkward to talk about and asked Kessian, “Which wedding party are you with? You never said.”
He smirked, though still with that reserved calm that put me on edge. “Camilla and Fae fought for me. Fae won.”
“Champion of rock paper scissors,” Fae said, holding up their fingers. “And I won with scissors. Camilla should have known me better.”
The attempt at levity didn’t quite catch on, so Rhia took over. “Now everyone’s here, would you like to try on your dress?”
As Fae disappeared behind the curtain with Rhia, Ella came and tapped Kessian fondly on the shoulder. When she did, her gaze passed quickly over me, like someone trying not to draw the attention of a feral dog, lest it be provoked.
So news of what had happened to Amelia had spread.
“How are things, Kessian? I heard that damned Westley Warwick wants to put up a hotel where you’re living.”
Kessian’s smile tightened. “Afraid so.”
“Ah, and we’ll go the same way as Waxy’s Candles and Olde Gary’s Café, if things keep going as they are.”
“He owns this as well?”
“Not him, but another man competing with him. Rent keeps going up. We’ll have been here fifty years in January, but Rhia and I aren’t as quick as we once were. It’s hard, competing with the big chain shops from Pentawynn. Even if all their clothes are tatty garbage.”
Their conversation was interrupted as Fae swept back the curtain and spun to show us their dress.
It had been styled to mix feminine and masculine aesthetics. Sheer lace covered their decolletage and arms, with a cream waistcoat and billowing skirt.
Everyone gasped, oohed, and ahhed, except me, who had little practice at making those noises. I also had little experience seeing anyone I loved in a wedding dress, and seeing Fae now, I was struck by just how many things I’d missed out on.
The last time I’d been in Shearwater, they’d been worrying about passing their A levels while begging Mum and Dad for a cat. (They’d been jealous of Lunaris, back before she became a camper van.)
Now, they were getting married.
Fae launched into an explanation about how they wanted to style their hair when someone jostled my shoulder with theirs.
Kessian said under his breath, “Getting a bit emotional seeing your sibling dressed for their wedding?”
“Just a little.”
“Hey, hey,” Fae said, pointing at us both. “No canoodling in public!”
One of the women I didn’t know said, “You should have known better than to invite Kessian, then.”
Kessian said, “Don’t be jealous, Mel. You had your chance.”
In spite of the direction of his jab, it was me getting my hackles up. I had no claim to Kessian. I didn’t know where we stood after we’d slept together and he’d been so cool with me afterward, but I still wanted to drape my arm around his shoulders.
“That was before I developed taste,” Mel said, kissing the girl next to her on the cheek.
Kessian laughed, unbothered by the slight. “I prefer to think that everybody has a taste for me, I’m just so rich that one bite is enough to satisfy.”
I kept my expression neutral, but I caught the implication. Once had been enough, twice too much. I didn’t do subtlety or reading between the lines. If I’d overstepped, if he didn’t want to take this any further …
Actually, I didn’t want to think about that right now.
