Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 10: As I See Myself

Isolde smoothed her skirts.

The young woman in the mirror stared back at her. Her blonde hair was gathered in a knot, and her dress — the colour of midnight wine — fell in a waterfall of silk to the floor. A silver mask obscured most of her face, the lace spiralling outwards like the wings of some strange winter butterfly.

Isolde turned side-to-side, watching as the fabric rippled in the candlelight. Malissa had chosen well. The dress was slightly too long, although perhaps that was for the best; if anyone caught a glimpse of her glass leg at the opera that evening...

Well.

Best not to think about that.

Isolde sat on the bed, pulling on her sandals. Julian's bedroom smelled faintly of pine-scented cologne, although even if it didn't, she would have known the room belonged to him; the wall was plastered with sketches — winter hawthorns and bare trees, Yulemas apples and horse-drawn carriages — and a wooden bow leaned against the bed.

Someone knocked.

"Isolde?" Julian called.

"I'm decent." Isolde rose. "Come in."

The door swung open. "Mum wants to know—"

Julian stopped dead. He was dressed in a black suit, his dark hair damp from bathing. His blue eyes roamed over from her feet to her mouth, and Isolde's face grew hot. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Jules?" she prompted.

"Sorry." Julian's throat bobbed. "You look..."

She looked down. "It's a bit much, I know."

"It's perfect," Julian said, and his voice was firm. "You look perfect."

Isolde smoothed down the skirts. "Thank-you." She dropped her hands. "You were saying something? About Malissa?"

"Oh. Yes." Julian paused. "She asked if you want to borrow a knife. And also if you'd like some potato soup and sourdough before we go."

She shook her head. "I'm alright. The idea of eating right now..."

Isolde's stomach churned. She hadn't felt this sick with nerves since the day of her wedding, and even that had seemed more bearable. Julian stepped forward, twining their hands together. His skin was warm from the bath.

"We'll be okay," Julian murmured.

She rested her forehead against his chest. "I know."

"Hold on." Julian pulled back. "I want to give you something."

"What is it?" Isolde asked.

Maybe it was a pep talk, she thought hopefully; or even better, a shot of whisky. Julian must have guessed her thoughts because he smiled. "Turn around."

Isolde obeyed. She watched in the mirror as Julian rummaged in his pocket, producing a silver necklace. He looped it over her head, and something heavy landed between her collarbones. A ring, Isolde realized, reaching up to touch it; the band was plain, although several words had been inscribed into the metal: To You, I Have Always Been As I See Myself.

"It's beautiful," Isolde murmured.

Julian's face was unreadable. "It's my family ring." Her head snapped up, and his smile grew. "Don't worry, I'm not proposing; it's a contingency plan. If we get separated somehow..." His smile faded. "Show it to someone. Say that you're a cousin of the family. They'll help you, if they think there's a reward."

Isolde dropped her hand. "I'll give it back afterwards."

Julian shook his head. "Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." He held out his arm. "Come on. The carriage is here."