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The Wedding - Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chatper 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue

 

 
Chapter 8

MINDY HAD OBVIOUSLY sensed my mom’s mood, too, and was already crawling off the bed. “Sure, Dr. Packwood. I should go to my room anyhow. Tomorrow’s a big day!”

When Mindy offered that reminder, my heart seized with anticipation—and fear again. I’d managed to distract myself from thoughts of the wedding for a few minutes, but in just hours I’d don my dress, and a servant would arrive with the things I’d need for the private act I’d have to perform first...

Will I have the nerve to do that?

“It’s gonna be wonderful,” Mindy reassured me, no doubt seeing the blood draining from my face. “I mean, you’re getting married! To Lucius!”

Yes, I am. It’s really happening.

Then she leaned in to give me a quick hug, said her goodnights, and left me and Mom alone.

I climbed off the bed, too, and walked toward my mother, curious about that look on her face and an object she held in her hands. “What is that?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

Mom smiled, but that didn’t quite erase the sad, almost solemn look in her eyes as she said, “I have an early wedding gift for you. Something I want you to have tonight.”

I looked again at the item she carried, thinking that the present was as strange as my mom’s mood. Unlike most wedding gifts, this one wasn’t wrapped in pretty paper. Rather, the package that she cradled with such care was covered in a plain white cloth, which she started to unwind, like a bandage.

“This is a special gift from both me and your birth mother,” Mom revealed, continuing to unwrap the object. Even more intrigued, I came a little closer to her. “Mom?”

“I promised Mihaela that I’d give this to you on the eve of your wedding—if you married Lucius,” she said. “Keep it safe, like Mihaela did, and then me, on your behalf. Because this, in turn, may keep you safe.”

She looked up, and I saw that odd expression in her eyes again, and I understood that Mom was, in that moment, giving me away. The ceremony tomorrow would be a formality. This act, to her—whatever she was giving me— symbolized the completion of a pledge to raise me as her own—for Lucius, and the family that I was returning to.

“Mom . . .” I heard the fear in my voice. I wasn’t ready and didn’t want to leave her.

But of course my mother knew that I was ready and that I had to leave my old life behind, and she held out the present, uncovered, and pressed it into my hands.

“You’re going to be a wonderful ruler—and a wonderful wife,” she promised, her voice as close to shaky as I ever expected to hear it. “You and Lucius are two incredibly special people, and you share a very strong love. I knew that, long before you both did.”

Apparently Lucius and I had been the last to know.

Then, before I could really even see what she’d given me, Mom hugged me and whispered, “I’m proud that you’re my daughter. And I’m so glad that Mihaela chose me to be your mother, too.”

“You’ll always be my mom,” I said, hating that it sounded like we were saying good-bye.

“I know, Jessica . . . Antanasia,” she corrected herself. “And you will always have a home in Pennsylvania. But I also know that your life is centered here now. And it will be, long after your father and I are gone.”

For the first time in my life, Dr. Dara Packwood seemed unable to come to grips with a concept—eternity—as it related to me. We both fell silent, just holding each other.

“I love you, Jessica,” she said, using my old name.

“I love you, too, Mom.” She started to pull back, but I grabbed her wrist. “You’ll help me get ready tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” she promised. “Of course!”

I felt relieved, because I’d been afraid that we really were separating from each other. And yet something had permanently shifted between us.

I wanted Mom to stay longer, but she left me then. When the door closed behind her, I finally looked at the gift in my hands, and I thought it was appropriate that it had come wrapped in a cloth like a bandage, because it seemed like my heart cracked to hold something so precious.

And I wasn’t sure whether I was addressing Dara or Mihaela—or maybe both—when I said, voice catching, “Oh, Mom . . .”

Continue to Chapter 9...

 
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