Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Vera
“Alright,” Polina says. She stands in front of me in a pale pink dress that somehow magnifies the brilliant blue of her eyes. “Let’s see how I did.”
I turn around to face the mirror and my mother. Mom covers her mouth with her hand and stares.
“Vera,” she breathes. “You look like you should’ve modeled for one of those magazines yourself.”
I blush and stare at my reflection. Harper, adjusting the flowers in my hair, smiles brightly. “I definitely understood the assignment,” she says cheerfully in a singsong voice. “Didn’t I? Thank you, thank you very much. She can do more than shoot a pretty gun, eh?”
Polina grins. “I helped, girlfriend. It wasn’t all on you.”
Harper rolls her eyes. “I did her hair and makeup! But yes, you got the dress, so we can go halfsies on the credit.”
“Absolutely,” I say with a playful smile. “You both deserve a medal.”
Polina winks. “I’ll take a cash bonus instead.”
Harper chuckles. “Deal. Just remember that it was me who spent hours perfecting those waves.”
I turn to the side as if somehow another angle will make it easier for me to understand that the beautiful woman in front of the mirror. . . is me. Gone is the wild, untamed hair I pin up in a weird bun ninety percent of the time because I can’t be bothered. Gone is the pale face that never gets enough sun and the tired eyes from lack of sleep. My hair is sleek and wavy, my face bright and shining. I’m glowing. . . though that isn’t all makeup.
“Yeah, girls,” I say in a stunned whisper. “You did good. This dress is exactly what I wanted.” Simple. Sophisticated. Elegant.
Harper nods with satisfaction. “And I can even walk in these heels,” I say, looking down at the pretty satin shoes that peek out from beneath the flowing silky hem of my dress, little kitten heels Harper promised me I’d like.
“Your groom has sent you a bouquet,” Aria says from the door. She grins and hands me a large bouquet of red roses.
“Now,” Polina says as she hands me the flowers. “Brief refresher on Russian wedding traditions.”
My mother giggles, but I groan. “You aren’t going to hold him hostage again, are you?”
“No, no, he passed that part. But we do have a few superstitions, and they matter. They matter a lot. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say with a grin. “Let’s hear it.”
“When you leave the house for the wedding, which will be held outside, you cannot look back. It’s bad luck.”
I nod. “Easy enough.”
“It’s raining!” my mother says excitedly. She even claps her hands.
“Oh no!” I rush to the window, but she shakes her head.
“No, no, Vera, it’s good luck, I promise.”
I look out the window and see it’s overcast and drizzling, so it’s not that bad. “During the wedding ceremony, we’ll tie a knot in a handkerchief that symbolizes your marriage bond. We also have a few things we do during the reception itself that will bring good luck.”
“Like breaking dishes?” I definitely heard about that somewhere. I think I saw a video somewhere of a bride gleefully smashing dishes.
“Mm-hmm. Yep. Don’t worry, we’ll show you,” Mom reassures me.
“Perfect.” I hold my head high as we head outside. When I first got here, the only familiar face was my mother’s, but I know the others now, at least a little. Aria’s impish grin inspires me. Harper’s lovely smile makes me feel welcome. Polina’s sturdy, calming presence makes me feel like I’m one of them.
Outside, the late summer afternoon is warm and inviting. My heart beats so quickly that I feel a bit woozy. My nerves are already on edge, so the presence of all of those guards, not even bothering to hide their weapons, makes me uneasy.
My mother stands at the front beside Ekaterina. The matriarchs of our families. They look regal and graceful as always, their presence alone inspiring to me. I swallow hard and stare straight ahead, gripping the bouquet of crimson-red roses in my hands. Tall trees and blooming flowers surround us, creating a romantic and picturesque setting. The imposing home behind us smacks of regal sophistication, which honestly is fitting. Against a backdrop of lush green gardens with a hint of the golden hue of late autumn, our guests wait.
With such short notice my sister couldn’t come, so I know hardly anyone. I don’t really care who’s here. All that I care about is Nikko, who’s waiting for me at the altar, dressed in a charcoal gray suit that fits him to perfection. Even from here, I can see the broad span of his shoulders and the hard planes of his muscles, barely contained in civilized clothing. I lick my lips.
I walk to where the ceremony will take place in a designated garden area, where rows and rows of white chairs are adorned with white flowers. The Romanovs have pulled out all the stops for our Russian wedding, even on short notice. The archway that waits for me takes my breath away, overflowing with cascading flowers in shades of ivory and blush. The gentle breeze carries the scent of roses from the garden.