Broken Dove
Page 171

The dream team.
My dream team.
Women who, like me, knew impossible, amazing, fantastical dreams could come true.
Dreams you would not dare to dream.
Dreams that we lived in every day.
I blew them a kiss.
They returned the gesture (all but Valentine) and moved through the door.
Loretta and Meeta rushed forward when they did, both putting their hands to me. Meeta’s rising to my fiddle with my hair, Loretta’s lowering to fidget with the skirt of my gown.
“What’s this?” Meeta asked, leaning back, her eyes on my necklace. The she looked to me. “This does not go with your gown Miss Maddie.”
She was right.
It didn’t.
My gown was the gown I luckily had to wear to the Bitter Gales.
A gown that was now my wedding gown.
Ulfr green satin, off-the-shoulder, but the low neckline and around my upper arms were fashioned in a wide luxurious line of black-brown mink. The hem and long train of my skirt had the same fur tracing it. My low-slung belt was also gold but fitted in every other link was an emerald and a topaz. I had half a dozen matching bejeweled combs holding up the intricate twists and curls of my hair and matching dangling earrings falling from my earlobes. And I had topaz evening gloves with thin tufts of mink at the ends.
The ice blue diamonds didn’t match.
And yet they were utterly perfect.
“It’s from Apollo,” I told Meeta.
It wasn’t the exact truth.
But it was still true.
“Ah,” she mumbled.
I smiled at her.
She caught my eyes and smiled back.
“There are two ladies who need to take their seats and the Head of a House who’s growing rather impatient,” a man’s voice noted and we all looked to the door to see Achilles had his head stuck in.
“Right! Must dash!” Loretta exclaimed, jumped forward, kissed me on the cheek and then darted out of the room.
“Until later, Miss Maddie,” Meeta said calmly, leaned forward, touched her cheek to mine, leaned back as she caught my hands and gave them a squeeze before she let me go and sauntered out like she was taking an evening stroll.
Achilles had shifted out of their way to let them go but when they were gone, he joined me in the room.
“Ready, little bug?” he asked quietly.
“Ready, Lees,” I replied quietly.
He offered his arm.
I moved forward and took it.
He guided me out of the antechamber and into the vestibule of the Dwelling of the Gods.
Draven, Hans, Alek, Remi, Gaston and Laures were all standing around, wearing the colors of their houses, waiting.
All except Derrik, who wasn’t standing.
He was moving to me, smiling.
“And she makes a beautiful bride,” he murmured when he arrived.
“Thanks, honey,” I murmured back.
Apollo had since explained all that had gone down with him and Derrik. I was surprised, and it had to be said, a little sad to learn it. It was another miracle that both men got over it and now…
Well now…
He shifted to my side and offered his arm.
Now, he was ours again. Mine. Apollo’s. And the House of Ulfr’s.
I took in a deep breath, rearranged my bouquet of adela branches to rest against Achilles’ elbow, and accepted it.
With Achilles on one side of me, Derrik on the other, they turned me to face the door.
Laures, Draven with Hans behind them moved into formation in front of us. Remi and Gaston, with Alek trailing, moved in behind us.
Laures jerked up his chin at the two young boys standing at the doors.
They opened them and my stomach dropped.
“All right?” Derrik asked, curling his fingers over mine at his elbow.
“Absolutely,” I answered, looking straight ahead.
The men moved.
I went with them.
At the front of the sanctuary were statues of the gods of this world and a man wearing white robes and a long multi-colored wrap draped around his neck that dangled down the front.
Also at the front was Apollo, wearing a well-tailored shirt of Ulfr green, an equally well tailored brown jacket, exceptionally well-tailored brown breeches, highly polished brown boots and a neck cloth.
I had a feeling, seeing him in that moment, I would have many times in my life where I was awed by his beauty.
But no time would be better than that.
We stopped at the end of the pews so we could turn right and the men could bow and I could curtsy to Queen Aurora who sat in the middle of the pew, Frey and Finnie, Circe and Lahn, Cora and Tor sharing the pew with her.
Christophe and Élan, though, sat at her sides.
When she bid us to rise, we did and I dipped my head to her, sent a smile along the entirety of the pew but I winked at Christophe and Élan.
Élan giggled and waved.
Christophe just tipped his chin to me.
We turned and the men led me to Apollo.
I only had eyes for him and he only had eyes for me.
In fact, when Laures, Draven and Hans cleared away and the man in white robes started speaking, Apollo didn’t even look at him.
He also didn’t look at him when the man stopped speaking and Apollo lifted his fist.
He continued to hold my eyes as Derrik let me go, Achilles moved me forward, lifted my hand, and curled my fingers around Apollo’s fist.
He didn’t even look away when the man in white robes said something and all Apollo’s men called, “Yes!”
The man in white robes said more as I felt Apollo’s men move away and there I was, at his side, his head tipped down, mine tipped back, all so we could keep the contact Apollo would not break.
I had a feeling he liked my outfit.
Though, I had a stronger feeling he just liked me.
He finally looked away but only for an instant to gaze at my throat before his eyes came back to mine and I saw something flash in his.
“That’s a becoming necklace,” he noted on a low murmur.
“An early wedding present,” I murmured back.
“And a pleasant surprise.” He was still talking low.
He knew what it was.
“Indeed,” I replied.
He grinned.
I took in that grin, those eyes, the feel of his hand under mine and I blurted, “I love you, Apollo Ulfr.”
This time, his eyes didn’t flash.
They blazed.
“And I love you, Madeleine Ulfr.”
I held his gaze and shuffled closer.
Then I broke eye contact only to instigate a different kind.
I leaned into him, rested my head on his shoulder and turned my gaze to the man in the robes.
I saw the holy man nod to me but I felt Apollo’s lips touch my hair.