Cinder traded looks with the others. “It … um … we were…”
“Thorne came up and took it,” interrupted Cress. “When you were changing.”
Scarlet frowned. “What for?”
“Because … he wanted to…” Cress swallowed. “Um … compare it to his own tuxedo. To make sure they were, uh … matching?” Her gaze darted to one side as she realized how implausible that sounded, even for Thorne.
“She means,” interrupted Cinder, “that Thorne was concerned that he and Wolf might have purchased the same tuxedo, which I guess is considered a big faux pas. You know how Thorne is about that sort of thing. Can’t be seen in the same tux as the groom! How embarrassing, right?”
Scarlet opened her mouth to speak again, her brow furrowed, when Iko asked, “What shoes are you going to wear?”
Scarlet moved to turn her head, but Iko grabbed it and faced her forward again. She huffed. “I don’t know. Winter said she had a pair I could borrow.”
Winter snapped and hopped to her feet. “Right. They’re still packed away. I’ll go get them.” She darted across the hall into the guest room, rustled around for a moment, then returned carrying a pair of red heels, almost the exact color of the dress’s sash.
The appearance of the perfect shoes were met with another round of ahhs, and this time Cinder couldn’t contain a chuckle and shake of her head. Winter sat cross-legged in front of Scarlet and pushed the shoes onto her feet. “How do they feel?”
“Not bad.” Scarlet turned her ankle back and forth. “If I can keep from tripping and breaking an ankle in them, this wedding will be a smashing success.”
Iko snorted. “They’re barely a two-inch heel.”
“Which is two inches taller than I’m used to.”
A crash from downstairs made them all jump.
“What was—” Scarlet started to push herself off the bed, but Iko held firm to a lock of hair and tugged her back down.
“What part of ‘hold still’ don’t you understand?” she scolded.
“I’ll go see what it was,” said Cinder, slipping into the hallway and darting down the stairs. Jacin was sitting at the bottom, hunched over something and working intently.
“That was Thorne,” he said, without glancing up at her.
“What did he do? Knock down a wall?” Cinder stepped past Jacin, but hesitated when she saw the vase of white flowers on the floor at his feet. He was meticulously pulling the flowers out of the water, one by one, and wiring their stems together. His brow was knotted in concentration.
“Are you making a bouquet?” she asked incredulously.
“Shut up.” He held the cluster in one hand and turned it a few different directions, before plucking out a white hydrangea and adding it to the mix.
Shaking her head, Cinder turned away and glanced into the sitting room. It was already transformed—flowers and garlands and tulle bows draped over every surface. It was beautiful, if also a bit chaotic.
Wolf was nowhere to be seen—probably changing, she thought—but Thorne and Kai were each standing on chairs and hanging a swath on the wall above the fireplace mantel as a part of their makeshift altar.
“What’s going on?” Cinder asked. “What was that noise?”
“Iss all unner control,” said Thorne through a mouthful of tacks.
She looked at Kai, who shrugged sheepishly. “We had a disagreement with a bookshelf, but Thorne’s right. We’ve got this.”
Cinder opened her mouth to demand more information, but hesitated and glanced around the room again. Nothing seemed irreparably damaged.
“How much more time do you think we have?” Kai asked.
“Iko is doing her hair right now. Maybe … half an hour?”
He gave her a nod, and Cinder turned and rushed back up to the bedroom.
“Nothing to worry about,” she said as she let herself back in. Iko had almost finished with a complicated-looking braid that wrapped around Scarlet’s head like a halo, leaving the bottom half of her hair loose and curly around her shoulders.
“But what was it?” asked Scarlet.
Cinder gaped at her, scrolling quickly through a list of potential logical responses. “Uh … they knocked over a chair. When they were … wrestling.” She flinched on the inside, surprised that her internal lie detector didn’t go off on herself. She could see the suspicion deepening in Scarlet’s face, but she smiled and said, “That looks really great, Iko.”
“I still need to touch up her natural curls,” said Iko, turning on the curling iron. “And tuck some of these pearls into the braid.”
Scarlet laughed. “This is just for practice, Iko. Don’t waste your time.”
Iko made a clicking sound in her throat—akin to a subtle tsk. “How else are we going to get the full effect? Dress, shoes, hair, everything. It all has to work together.”
Scarlet sighed. “You’re all acting weird. Is there something going on that I should know about?”
A chorus of highly incriminating Nos and Not at alls flurried around her. Scarlet scoffed.
“Why don’t you tell us about … something old?” said Cinder, sitting beside Winter.
Scarlet frowned. “Something old?”
“Yeah. Um. Wolf had said something about a tradition…”
“Oh!” Scarlet fluffed her skirt, keeping out the wrinkles as much as she could. “There’s an old, old wedding tradition, in which the bride should wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. So, for me, my dress is new.” She gestured at the dress. “The shoes are borrowed. And my something old is right over there.” She pointed.
Cress turned and picked something small and shining off the top of the dresser. She held it toward Scarlet, who nodded before showing it to the others.
It was a brooch. A yellow gemstone was at its center, set into a five-pointed star, with two golden wings stretching out to either side. Cinder’s retina display recognized it almost immediately, informing her that it was a pilot pin from the European Federation military, circa 81 T.E.
“It was my grandmother’s,” said Scarlet, holding out her palm. Cress set the pin into it. “It was given to her when she became a pilot. She gave it to me years ago, and … I thought it would be like having a part of her with me. I thought I’d pin it to the bouquet or something.”
“Don’t be silly.” Winter rose up onto her knees and scooted closer to Scarlet. Taking the brooch from her hands, she leaned forward and pinned it through the fabric of the white bodice, right over Scarlet’s heart. “This is clearly where it belongs.”
Scarlet was smiling as she looked down at the brooch. “You don’t think it clashes with the outfit?”
“Oh, it definitely clashes,” Iko said from behind her.
“But do you care?” added Winter.
Scarlet shook her head. “Not really.”
“I figured as much.”
“Done!” Iko leaned back. “Get up and show everyone.”
“When did you become so bossy?” Scarlet said, chuckling, as she stood and straightened the dress. She gave a twirl, then stopped and let everyone admire Iko’s handiwork. Her hair fell in large spiraling ringlets—still curly and wild, but neater than she usually wore it, and topped off with the elegant, pearl-studded braid. She went to look at herself in the mirror.
After a long, silent moment, she swallowed and placed a finger against her grandmother’s brooch. She sniffed, then tilted her head way back and inhaled deeply in an attempt to keep tears from falling. After a second, she laughed again and lowered her head.
“I wish she were here,” she murmured, and no one had to ask who she meant. “She would have loved him so much.” There was another sniff, and she turned around, swiping at her eyes. “She would have loved all of you, too. I think … I think she was a little concerned that I never made very many friends.” She swept her arms in no particular direction. “And now look. I have so many friends, I need a cargo ship to keep you all in.”