Chapter Twenty-Nine

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I stare at myself in the mirror, watching my hair being pulled and tugged and braided into the most intangible chignon I have ever seen. Mary stands above me, muttering, hands working deftly as she styles my hair. My eyes are bright and clear, shimmering with all the expectations from the day to come. My cheeks have a natural flush to them and my mouth is moist from having rolled my tongue over it so many times.

My body is swathed in a pure white, chiffon dress with a heavily ruffled skirt. There is intricate beading along the neckline and hemline, and instead of sleeves, lace curls itself around both of my arms, just hinting at the slightly tanned skin beneath. There is no collar on the dress, instead there is just a strip of lace attached to the chiffon of the dress. A red crystal teardrop pendant graces my neck, drawing attention to the lace and the embellishment on the neckline of my dress.

Mary adjusts a final few locks of my hair and then sighs, looking at me warmly in the mirror. "There you are, Eloise. You look wonderful."

"Thank you, Mary." I beam, standing up and turning to face her. "Do you know if Mother has arrived as of yet?"

Mary's expression turns apologetic and she shakes her head. "Not that I know of, dear. Damon sent a messenger yesterday evening and he returned with the message that if it is safe, she will attend. She said she will try her best. That is the most we can expect, right?"

I nod silently, walking sombrely over to my bed and picking up the bouquet of red roses.

"Eloise darling." Mary sighs. "Do not be so morose today. It's your wedding day. This is the day you have been waiting for, this is the day you've been fighting for, this is the day you've been wishing for. Do not fill it with negativity, for Damon's sake, if not for your own."

I nod, attempting to cheer myself up. Mary's right. Today has been waited upon with such vigour and intensity - I can't ruin it now with my sordid negativity.

I think of Damon and ask Mary, "What do you think Damon is wearing?"

"Exactly what he is expected to wear." Mary says vaguely, chuckling when I huff. "Contain your impatience, my dear, you will see him soon."

"Hardly soon enough, Mary." I whine. "We still have to wait a while before the priest arrives."

"Actuallly, the priest is already here." Mary smirks. "He arrived a while ago. Everything is now ready and Peter is waiting outside the room to escort you downstairs."

Peter arrived last night on horseback. He will be in the position of my father, he will walk me up the aisle and give me away to my rightful husband. He is incredibly excited about it; I am just happy to see him be treated as equal to me, something he has always been denied since his birth as an illegitimate child.

"What?!" I shriek, panicking. "Why did you not inform me before?"

Mary just sighs. "Because you were not ready, Eloise. Now, come on. Time to get married."

I can't help but to grin, all previous grievances forgotten, and follow Mary into the hallway. Peter is waiting there, just as Mary told me, dressed in the most breathtaking way.

He is wearing a specially tailored black suit with an Italian-style ruffle-necked white dress shirt and polished leather shoes. His dark hair has been slicked back, allowing his shining eyes to take the full limelight.

"Peter...." I gasp. "Oh, I can barely recognise you! You look wonderful, Peter!"

Peter beams. "Do you think so? The ruffles... Are they not too feminine?"

Mary chuckles and I shake my head determinedly. "Peter, you look like a true gentleman of society."

Peter stands a little straighter. "Well, if I look like a gentleman of society, I must act like one. My lady, will you give me the pleasure of escorting you to your wedding dais?"

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