Page 57 of When Night Falls
"Well, typically, it would mean he's marrying for love. But he claims he's only wearing it because it was his mom's favorite color."
"His mom." The thought of love creeps back into my mind. Knowing that he's wearing a color that represents his mom sends little sparks of something sweet beating into my chest. He isn't heartless. That eases my mind a bit. Gives me hope though I am aware might be for nothing.
"Yeah, she uh . . . well, she's not around anymore." I can hear in her tone that the topic might be a tough one. And I don't press her on the matter because it sounds like it's not her story to tell but it dawns on me that she saidhis mom.
"Wait, so you're not his biological sister?"
"Technically, half. Travois and I-"
"Travois?" Thoughts of the man from the masquerade party filter back through my head. His gloved hand and the glint ofsilver in his eyes along with the warning he sosweetlypresented me.
"Yeah, have you had thepleasureto meet him yet?" She rolls her eyes at his mention which makes me wonder what the problem with him is.
I knew I got an eerie feeling when he greeted me at the party, but I didn’t know that he was connected to all of this as well.
"Yes, I actually did. At the masquerade." I recall his ominous words and his guide back to the hallway where I kissed my fate with a curious mind.
"Right. Well, we are Rivian's half siblings. Same dad, different moms. Our mother was the former queen before she…" Troian trails off and I can see sorrow color her features.
"Before she what?" I decide to ask her, even though I know I shouldn't pry too much but they can’t fault me for wanting to know more. Though, I don't get much of a chance to receive an answer anyway before we're interrupted.
"Okay so here are some dresses for you to try on." The boutique worker seems to have missed much of our conversation while she pulled some dresses that fit the likes of what Troy suggested to her.
"What does white and ivory mean for me?" I ask Troy.
"Do you really care?" She seems to have changed her bubbly personality into something a little sterner when she answers me with irritation lining her tone.
"No, but I might as well learn everything I need to know." I try to ease her back into the friendly conversation we were just having by attempting to match her sassy banter. I hope I didn't ruin her mood by trying to push the question about her mom.
"Well, white is marriage of convenience,” she runs her finger along one of the dresses, “and ivory is for love." Her answer is somewhat short, but I move past it.
I look at the options laid out in front of me. I'm seemingly marrying for neither of those reasons, according to my dark price.
The dresses displayed before us all seem like viable options that I would choose had I intended to plan my own traditional wedding. But I feel salty as I examine the options in front of me, feeling robbed in a sense. There are moments where I feel like I have optimism when it comes to this relationship. I see parts of Rivian that I know he’s trying to hide and I want him to let me see those parts of him closer. But then he pulls shit like he did last night and says things that lead me to believe he’s not capable of more than being a villainous jerk and it's those moments I think about when I feel like I could cause my own chaos.
I could do this the easy way. Roll over and pick out one of these dresses before me like a good girl, I'm sure that's what Rivian wants me to do. But I'm not a puppet that he can just string along. I won't allow him to make me do whatever he wants. I want him to know that I will be his wife and I will be his queen. But I also want him to know that I am not as easy to manipulate as he anticipated.
"What do you have in black?" I turn to ask the boutique associate, a devious tone lacing my voice as I let trouble fall from my tongue.
"No, Lucynda. I don't think that's a good idea." I turn my head back to Troy who is now standing from the bench, a look of warning on her face.
"Why?"
"There hasn't been a bride ever who wore black since…" again, she seems to trail off. I'm getting really tired of not getting complete thoughts or explanations.
"Since who? Count Dracula's bride?" I turn back and nod my head at the associate, but she seems to stay planted in her place while she decides who to listen to. I wonder if she's compelled.
"I'm being serious." Troy stares at me with urgency to listen to her. But if Rivian can wear whatever color he chooses, then so can I, surely.
"Me too." Her warning doesn't go unnoticed and as nice as she's been to have accompany me today, I really don't care what she has to say right now.
"The last bride who wore black to her wedding got decapitated by her husband. It's meant to be an ancient curse that we don't really want to fuck around with to find out." She stuffs her hands in her pockets. Her face is grave and her tone is stone cold. She really believes that there's a curse that will plague the Society if I choose to wear black to my wedding. But she's forgetting. It ismy wedding.
"Well, supposedly, you also have this stupid lore that refers to soulmates. And apparently wearing maroon is meant to be a sign of love yet, here I am being trapped into this marriage as a human girl whose soulmate is a literal blood-sucking vampire, who swears he wants nothing to do with me, and this marriage is only one of power for your weird secret society." I spit the words at her with a less amiable tone than I've been using this whole time with her, knowing that I spoke at a rapid pace.
"What the fuck did you just say?" We both snap our heads over to the sales lady who's been standing here the whole time, listening to us talk about things that human people like myself probably aren't used to hearing about in a casual conversation.
"Shit." I make a mental note to start paying attention to my surroundings when I speak out loud next time. I don't really know what I'm actually allowed to say and what I'm not allowed to say.