Walk.
Talk.
I am a puppet; who exactly is pulling my strings remains to be seen.
Three days.
Two.
One.
Before I know it, the eve of the wedding has arrived.
The seamstresses come for one final fitting, making infinitesimal tweaks to what, in my eyes, appears to be an already perfect dress. It’s got so much fabric, it makes the gold gown I wore to my coronation look like a handkerchief. The train is ten feet long; the veil is double that. When Chloe walks into my chambers and sees me in it, she bursts into actual tears.
“Oh, E!” she sobs. “Look at you!”
I, on the other hand, feel completely numb as I examine the beautiful bride in the mirror.
Twenty-four hours.
I will be married in twenty-four hours.
I’m told to relax. Everything else is prepped and ready to go. The royal cooks have baked and iced a six-tier white cake — enough to feed five-hundred guests at the reception. The Great Hall floors shine like never before, buffed and polished to perfection for the formal ball. Every surface and side table in the castle boasts a flower arrangement, artfully coordinated with blooms in our official color palette: gold and navy blue.
Eighteen hours.
Seventeen.
Sixteen.
After a quick walkthrough of the ceremony in the throne room, Alden and I wander through the castle courtyard arm in arm. It’s a lovely evening — a warm wind stirs the tree boughs overhead, blows strands of hair across my shoulders like a playful lover’s kiss. The sun is setting over the mountains, basking the world in ombre hues of orange.
A beautiful nightmare.
“I can’t believe this time tomorrow, we’ll be married,” Alden marvels lowly.
I glance over at him. “Want to make a run for it?”
“No. You?”
“In these shoes?” I show off a stiletto heel. “I wouldn’t make it past the castle gates.”
Chuckling, he squeezes my arm. “I suppose we’re stuck with one another, then.”
“Seems that way.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Should I be?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never been married before; I don’t have a baseline for the proper amount of pre-wedding jitters.” He tilts his head, bemused. “Though the prospect of fumbling my vows in front of the entire world does stir a certain amount of anxiety.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re one of the calmest public speakers I’ve ever seen. Without you by my side — not just during this wedding press junket, but through the entire referendum campaign and the treason trial — I would’ve been lost.”
“Not true, but kind of you to say, My Queen.”
“Alden. We’re getting married tomorrow. I think it’s time you dropped my formal title.”