The Last Dance (Extra)

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Yes, it's true, I've finally gotten around to writing a wedding chapter for The Last Dance.

I've truely missed writing about these characters, and I'd also like to thank everyone, new fans and old, for the great support you've given and continue to give the Last Dance. It's been done for months and still in the top 100, which shocks me everyday. Thank you, thank you, thank you. <3

The lovely cover page was made by KissMeStupid, and this chapter is dedicated to ella_enchanted, a fantastic writer herself, who's been with me from the beginning.

The Sequal to the Last Dance, Dancing with Deception can be found in the external link, just to be clear it doesn't revolve around John and Celia although they do make a few appearances. It's all new characters and an all new plot and I hope you'll all give it a chance =) 

Comment and Vote?

Cheers,

xo.

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The Last Dance - Extra

Unroyal Wedding

I tilted my hand back and forth watching as the faint morning light bounced off a glittering diamond set in the middle of curling petals, admired how the delicate woven band changed from sparkling silver to a blushing red as if the metal were being repeatedly heated and cooled. I let out a sigh, being dazzled by the beauty yet again before pulling the wedding ring off my finger and hurling it at the door. 

I paced across the floor, too nervous to sit still, too frantic to stop the barrage of insecurities that crowded my mind with every breath. Stumbling to the window I knocked into my bedside table, dislodging a pile of invitations and thank you cards. The thick sheets of parchment scattered across the floor, their dark curling letters mocking me with every brush stroke. 

Throwing open the window the pale dawn light bathed the room in a rosy tint. I took in a deep breath and nearly choked on the heavy air thick with the smell of flowers. The castle seemed to be drowning in them and I longed for just a hint of the crisp cool breeze that had melted away with the last of the snow weeks ago. 

Leaning against the sill my eyes passed over the room, taking in the mess of cards on the floor, the small gift boxes peeking out from under the bed and inside the closet, on top of tables or thrown in corners, some half opened while others remained pristinely unwrinkled and unwrapped.

The better to return them, I thought. 

Reluctantly my eyes fell on the dress.

Silly to think I was ready to call off a whole wedding just because of a garment of lace and silk, when had I become so shallow?

But god, that dress.

The light blue fabric and soft grey lace should have made for a simple pretty dress, but the monstrosity before me was anything but. The skirts alone could have easily clothed a dozen people with so many layers draped over each other. Large dropping ribbons littered the waistline, sleeves and were even spread without pattern along the skirt. With its heart shaped neckline and delicate silver beads the bodice was the only redeeming quality, but even it was ruined by the filmy layer of lace overtop and another damned bow twice the size of my fist at the dip of the neckline. The whole thing was garish and overdone, as if a dozen hands had shaped it without agreeing on a design and insisted on using every scrap of lace, silk, and satin available to them. 

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