Page 17 of Monster's Bride
A numbness creeps over me as I move toward the door and try the handle, and the next several minutes pass in a blur. The door snaps closed behind Lizette as she steps in behind me, and I barely have time to look over the black and gold details of the room before another door opens and a beige-skinned minotaur enters. Her build is similar to that of the queen, but she’s dressed in simple black clothes and has maroon circlets on her horns.
“Princess,” she says as she curtseys. “It’s an absolute honor. If you’ll follow me, we’ll make our way to the ceremony.”
I mumble something and stand again, my jelly legs making me stumble, and I follow the servant through the second doorway. Lizette follows quietly behind and fusses with the skirt of my dress, but I hardly notice. My heart is racing in my chest and I’m struggling to breathe, trying my best to hold everything together.
I’ve got this.
I can do this.
But I’m still scared shitless.
A short hallway leads us to yet another set of double doors. These are glossy and black, detailed with glistening gold scrollwork. The buzz of conversation seeps through the material and spills into the space, and I force a shaky breath. How many minotaurs have congregated to witness our union? It sounds like hundreds.
I open my mouth to voice the question plaguing me, but a twinkle of musical notes from inside replaces the conversation and causes a lump in my throat.
“When I open the doors, you’ll walk to the last set of pews,” the servant whispers. “Count to five, then proceed down the aisle. Any questions?”
Several, but none that I’m able to voice. I shake my head instead and swallow the bile creeping up my throat. Vomiting all over my wedding dress after making it this far would be a pity.
Not to mention, Lizette would kill me, since she worked so hard to get me ready for this moment.
In a swift motion, the servant throws open the doors and steps aside, ushering for Lizette to join her out of view. As my eyes travel into the event hall, my fear spikes to a new high and roots me to the spot.
An aisle parts a sea of occupied pews that run the entire length of the long, wide space, and hundreds of eyes are staring at me expectantly. Up until now, I haven’t feared for my life inside the castle, but the enormous crowd has me second-guessing my safety. They are beasts, and I am prey being offered to them willingly. Any one of them could kill me in seconds.
The dagger strapped to my thigh feels like a feeble attempt at safety now.
“Irissa,” Lizette hisses, dragging me from my daydreams and plopping me back into the middle of my wedding. “Go!”
My feet obey even though I don’t tell them to move. They have a mind of their own. I take ten steps into the room and pause at the last set of pews.
One.
Even though the towering minotaurs nearby are breathing so hard I can hear them over the music, I refrain from looking in their direction. My gaze is focused down the long aisle, which is lined with a deep blue runner that almost blends in with the black floor.
Two.
The high, arched ceiling reminds me of our prayer hall back home, but instead of having stained-glass windows and vibrant paintings, Ulleh’s dark, intimidating aesthetic continues. It’s eerie but beautiful.
Three.
At the end of the aisle, there is a raised platform, much like the dais in our throne room. Four figures stand waiting for me. To the left is Queen Torria, her vibrant skin standing out in a sea of darkness, and the mountain of a minotaur next to her must be her husband. Directly in front of the aisle stands a minotaur in a floor length navy robe, silver baubles dancing from his horns by chains. He must be the officiant. And to the right, stands my future husband.
My throat tightens.
Four.
Though he’s not as big as the king, the way he towers over the officiant gives me a good idea of how large he is. With metallic gray skin and bulging muscles, he wears dark pants, a white shirt, and a floor-length robe that fastens around his neck. His eyes are trained on me, and even from this distance I can feel the heat of his gaze boring into me.
He doesn’t look pleased.
Well, that makes two of us.
Five.
The walk to the altar is the longest walk of my life, and I’m convinced the room is getting longer with every step I take. Although I’m sure it’s only a matter of seconds, it feels like minutes before I’m finally standing opposite my betrothed, and the room falls impossibly silent.
Can everyone in the room hear how loud my heart is beating?