Stealing Cinderella(85)
Tears leak from her eyes, and she nods, squeezing my hand in hers.
The music begins, and it’s time for me to leave her and join Calder. I thank my mother for all her help, and my brother leads me to the ring of glowing candles with a lit torch in hand. As we reach the entrance of the circle, he sets his torch down on one side and leaves me to join the Gothi within the sacred space while I wait for my bride. A week wasn’t much time to throw everything together, but the benefit of having an entire royal staff at your disposal is that you can make it happen.
Ella got everything she wanted, which wasn’t much. It’s a small, intimate affair with just my family and Olivia and Charlotte. When I told her how I had meant to propose, she said we should get married that way instead. So that’s exactly what we’re doing. In the garden, in the middle of the night, among the roses and stars.
My mother was more than happy to be involved in all aspects, telling Ella about the rituals she believes will ensure a long, happy marriage. Scattered around us are flowers, branches, and leaves. Myrtle to symbolize our love, oak for fertility, and willow for protection. Everything has a significance, and Ella was eager to incorporate all of them, much to my mother’s pleasure.
Charlotte walks down the aisle next, a nervous smile on her face as she sets her torch down at the entrance to make way for the bride. Outside of the circle, Olivia is next to my mother, Dr. Blom, and Aunt Runa. When Ella appears at the end of the aisle, we all turn our attention to her.
A smile curves across my face when she walks toward me in a dress that’s oddly familiar. And while I realize it isn’t the same one, she chose a dress just like the one she first met me in. But instead of blue, it’s white. The only thing that’s missing is her silver heel, which is conveniently tucked into my arm. Even so, she manages her way to me with a grace not many could possess. When she joins me at my side, there is a collaborative resonance of laughter when I kneel before her and place the shoe on her foot.
“I think you left this behind.”
“Lucky for me.” She beams as I stand and take her hands in mine.
“I like the dress.” My eyes move over her with a carnal appreciation only she can see.
“I thought you might.” She blushes.
Her face is aglow with happiness, and I recognize it because I feel it too. Her warmth has penetrated the frozen exterior I’ve flaunted like a weapon for so long. Ella blasted right through those hard outer layers and broke them down inch by inch, chiseling so deep inside me I’d never be able to let her go. And right now, I’ve never been more grateful for her determination. After today, she will be my wife. My fire goddess. My Queen.
The Gothi directs our attention to him, opening with a traditional Norse blessing. Facing in each direction as he speaks, he forbids all evil from entering our lives from this point forward. After invoking the gods, our ancestors, and everyone gathered here today as our witnesses, he lights a symbolic candle to purify us so that we may enter our marriage with unadulterated love.
Dipping an evergreen sprig into a bowl of holy water, he anoints Ella and me, offering his blessings before binding our hands together with the rite of the white ribbon. We recite a prayer to Frigga, the goddess of marriage, followed by our vows promising to love, honor, and cherish each other. The rings we exchange were personally chosen by Ella. A moonstone set into oxidized silver for her, and a brushed silver Tungsten band for me.
As the final rite of passage into married life, the Gothi pours a goblet of mead wine and brings our free hands together around the stem, encouraging each of us to drink. Once we do, he declares us bound for eternity as husband and wife. He removes the goblet, and I bring my hand to Ella’s face, sealing our marriage with a kiss.
Around us, bells begin to ring, a salute from the witnesses. But Ella and I only have eyes for each other as we seal our commitment to one another.
When the Gothi opens the circle again with one last symbolic prayer, we exit to our new life amongst our family and friends. Celebrations are in order, and the chef has prepared a feast of traditional foods. Ella and I join our guests in the banquet room, listening and laughing as they each share a toast to our good health and happiness, along with a few embarrassing stories. When my mother begins to fade, Ella and I both offer to take her to her room, but she is quick to dismiss us.
“Enjoy your celebrations, my beautiful children.” She offers us each a kiss on the cheek. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted now. I’m at peace. Now, drink and be happy.”
Aunt Runa starts to wheel her away before my mother stops her, offering me a mischievous smile.
“Oh, Thorsen, I almost forgot,” she says. “I put a Mandrake Root beneath your bed too. For virility.”
Ella and I spend two full days lost in each other, soaking up the moments we have right now. Our honeymoon has been delayed by choice, and on the third day, when her guests have gone back to London, we wake with a somber cloud over our newlywed calm.
“Are you ready for this?” she asks as we step out of the shower, and she dries me with a towel.
“No. But I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”
“I know.” She kisses me softly. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing.”
Two months ago, I wouldn’t have agreed. Even a week ago, it wasn’t easy to accept what my mother asked of me. I’m not ready to let her slip away, but she has always been the strongest woman I know, and she wants to be remembered that way. When she came to me, asking me to let her die with dignity while she still could, it broke my fucking heart. But it would be selfish of me to ask her to stay only to prolong her pain and suffering.