Curses and Cream Puffs

Lena felt like an imposter in the beautiful, wildly expensive dress. Emelia had seen her staring wistfully at it in the dress shop and insisted she should get it for the wedding. Lena had felt bad spending so much of Damien’s money on a dress but Emelia refused to leave the shop without it; and then she’d flitted all around town finding the perfect accessories to complete the look. Then she’d spent an hour giving Lena makeup tips.

“Use this gold powder here instead of the black, dear, it’ll really bring out those pretty green eyes. And just the lightest blush, you don’t want to be caking on the rouge like some girls do. It will just make you look ill. I know a lovely powder you can use to dust over your freckles, gives the skin a nice dewy look too. Are you keeping up with all of this, Lena?”

“I...yes, I think so,” Lena had replied weakly. She’d tried to remember all of Emelia’s advice as she got ready. The dress had long sleeves but left her shoulders bare; it cinched at the waist and then flared away with a moderately full skirt. Emelia had made sure she had matching emerald earrings, a necklace, and glittering emerald hairpins so everything matched. Lena wrestled her curls into the most elegant chignon she could manage, a few stray wisps falling around her face.

Damien helped her into the carriage that was sent to take them to the wedding, and they sat across from each other in nervous silence.

“How many people are going to be there?” Lena asked finally.

“I’m not sure exactly, but...a lot. At least three hundred or so, probably. Some statesmen, some of the top designers who made the wedding party clothes will be invited. The bride and groom’s families, of course.”

“And a lot of hunters,” Lena added quietly. She twisted her gold “wedding” band on her finger, her stomach knotting. A witch about to walk alone into a room full of hunters. They have no reason at all to think you’re a witch, she reminded herself. Besides, hunters are usually thick as rocks, they’d never figure out what I am unless I made it start snowing inside or yelled out, ‘hey! I’m a witch, come kill me!’

No one noticed them much at the actual ceremony, since they were some of the last to enter and sat far back from the altar. Lena was starting to hope that maybe they’d go mostly ignored for the entire evening, but when they arrived at the groom’s grand mansion and went inside for the reception, they immediately drew dozens of eyes. Lena stood at the top of the staircase that descended into the ornate ballroom and felt a little dizzy with so many people staring. It was completely irrational but she kept expecting someone to call out that she was a witch.

Damien gently touched her elbow to steady her, and she clung to his arm. She wasn’t exactly going into this alone. Pushing down her jitters, she let Damien lead her down the grand steps and into the sea of people. They were immediately caught up in people asking them questions and introducing themselves to Lena. Damien looked resigned but Lena put on her best polite smile and tried to patiently answer everyone’s questions and compliment the women’s dresses. It was easy to fall into a habit of hanging off Damien’s arm, because the last thing she wanted was to get separated from him in the crowd.

At some point in the evening they crossed paths with the bride and groom and congratulated them. Damien’s cousin prattled on for a while about Damien’s success since becoming a full-fledged hunter and Lena downed a flute of champagne to make sure she didn’t grimace at the casual way people talked about disposing of witches.

“We’re both married men now,” Ferdinand said, clapping Damien on the shoulder. “I’m surprised you didn’t make it a whole event like this, but then you always were sort of the quiet one.”

“I didn’t want to plan something this elegant and fancy,” Lena said, leaning on Damien’s arm. “I don’t know anyone here, and I don’t come from a family anywhere near as important. Besides we wanted to be married as soon as possible.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic,” the bride; Lena remembered her name was Yvette; gushed. “I couldn’t fathom of eloping but you two sound like a couple out of a storybook. Look at them, Ferdy, don’t they look so in love? Oh they’re just glowing.”

Lena and Damien both took another sip of champagne to cover the awkwardness. After the cutting of the positively enormous wedding cake, the dancing started and by then nearly everyone had had at least some wine and champagne so there was a lot of stumbling and loud laughter.

One of Emelia’s long-time friends came flouncing up to them, raving about Lena’s dress and exclaiming how happy she was that Damien was married. Lena had a feeling that she’d really just wanted to see Damien’s new wife so the next time she had tea with her friends they’d have more to gossip about. But Lena smiled anyway and thanked her warmly. To her surprise, Damien rested an arm lightly around her waist. She’d thought he was too shy to be so openly affectionate here.

The ballroom started to get a bit raucous and after her third glass of champagne Lena felt a little lightheaded. She tugged on Damien’s sleeve and pointed toward the far door that led out onto a balcony. He nodded and they edged along the room until they reached it, slipping out and closing the door behind them. Lena took a relieved breath of fresh evening air.

“I’m so glad we eloped,” she joked.

“It’s a madhouse in there,” Damien agreed. “Like my father mentioned, this is Ferdinand’s third marriage. I assume everyone is just here for the food and the champagne.”

“It is very good champagne,” Lena said, swaying slightly. Damien’s lips twitched.

“I figured you were just trying to dull the boredom of the night.”

“I’m not bored,” Lena protested. “It’s kind of fun, actually. I feel like a scullery maid getting to play princess for a night. And it’s not even my wedding.”

“You’re not a scullery maid,” Damien frowned. Lena propped her elbows on the balcony railing and looked out at the city and forest laid out below.

“This is house is too gaudy for my taste, but the view is pretty amazing,” she said. She almost leaned out too far and Damien caught her, pulling her back. Lena stumbled in her heels and fell against him. She didn’t move, just watching the dancers inside the ballroom.

“The music is slowing down, people must be getting too tired or too drunk to dance much more,” she noted.

“We should probably go home soon. You’re a little tipsy yourself.”

“I am not. I want a dance before we go.”

“You really want to go back in there?”

“No, we can dance here. It’s a slow song, you can just do one of those dances that’s really just swaying.”

When he hesitated Lena tilted her head back to give him a stern look. “We’re not leaving without a dance,” she said. He laughed slightly.

“Okay, okay.” He put one hand on her waist and held the other and they sway-danced to the strains of music they could hear inside while Lena rested her head against his shoulder. When the song ended and people began to shuffle out, she held onto Damien’s hand to keep from tripping as she navigated the stairs.

“Who needs so many stairs,” she grumbled and nudged Damien when he snickered. He helped her into the carriage again, and Lena sat beside him this time. Her head drooped onto his shoulder and she started to doze off as the carriage took them home. Damien gently shook her awake and she followed him drowsily into the house. Lena immediately started pulling pins out of her hair, her curls falling down in a wild mess.

“My head feels like it weights five hundred pounds,” she complained.

“Are you sure that’s the hairstyle and not the alcohol?” Damien asked teasingly.

“It’s both,” Lena said, pulling out the last pin and setting them down on the counter. “My head feels too heavy and the rest of me feels too light.”

She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief, and then took off the rest of her jewelry. Being a princess for a day was fun, but a little exhausting.

“How do you think we did?” she asked.

“Well it’s safe to say no one thought you were a witch. And I think they all believed that we’re so madly in love that we just had to elope.”

“I think I could’ve been more convincing,” Lena said, finger combing her hair.

“I think you were very convincing,” Damien mumbled, fussing with his bow tie. Lena swatted his hands away and untied it for him, then brushed off some of the gold glitter she’d gotten on his shirt when they danced.

“You looked very handsome,” she said and his face turned red. Lena barely suppressed a giggle.

“Why do you get so embarrassed?” She poked him lightly. “I’m your wife, remember? I’m supposed to think you’re handsome.”

“Yeah, but, there’s no one here now. We don’t have to pretend to be married when we’re alone.”

Lena pretended to study her nails. Clearly she had had one too many flutes of champagne and strawberries because she’d lost control of her mouth and her brain didn’t seem interested in getting it back.

“Well, we can pretend a little when we’re alone,” she said slowly. “I mean, we have to make it a habit, right? Acting like a couple? It would be easy to slip up in front of people if we don’t commit to it.”

Damien looked like he had stopped breathing, gaping at her with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I...what?” he asked weakly. “Commit how?”

“You could come sleep in your own room again,” she suggested. “Unless you want to sleep on the hard floor down here?”

“Well, no, but I...I...you sleep upstairs.”

Lena sighed and grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the stairs. “Well maybe I get lonely sometimes,” she said.

“Lena, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight and I’m not sure this is-“

“Damien,” Lena said in exasperation. She stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and he bumped into her. She spun to face him and almost tripped again.

“I’m too tired for your arguing,” she said firmly as he caught her shoulders.

“Lena-“

She cut him off by leaning up and kissing him. “Too tired for arguing,” she repeated. “Now go to bed.”

She didn’t even take off the ballgown before flopping across the bed. After a long hesitation, Damien laid down, trying to keep distance between them. Lena scooted closer, laying her head on his chest and falling asleep.