Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Cathedral of Saint Catherine was obscenely beautiful.

Kate had been inside exactly three times before today but she'd never seen it like this. Every surface seemed to glow with candlelight. 

It was excessive. Elegant. Exactly the kind of wedding the Ashford family would throw.

Kate smoothed down her navy dress for the hundredth time and tried not to fidget. Her entire family had claimed two rows on the groom's side—her parents, all six of her brothers, various sisters-in-law and a nephew who was already getting restless despite the ceremony not having started yet.

"Katie, stop twitching," her mother whispered, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "You look lovely."

"I'm not twitching," Kate whispered back, even though she absolutely was. She couldn't help it. Something felt... off.

Maybe it was the text conversation with Silver this morning. That strange question: *Does he seem happy to you?* What kind of bride asked that on her wedding day?

Or maybe it was the fact that Kate was sitting in the congregation instead of standing at the altar.

She'd begged Seris. Actually begged him, something she rarely did because Seris hated emotional manipulation and Kate tried never to use their friendship that way. But she'd wanted so badly to be part of the bridal party, to stand up there as a visible symbol of her support for his new marriage.

"Please," she'd said, three weeks ago over coffee. "Just ask her if I can be a bridesmaid. I know we're not close yet, but this could help. It would mean so much to me."

Seris had looked at her with those dark, unreadable eyes and said simply, *"No."

"Why not? I'm your best friend! It's traditional for—"

"I don't want you around Silver."

The words had hit like a slap. Kate had actually recoiled, coffee cup frozen halfway to her lips. 

"What? Seris, what are you talking about?"

"Exactly what I said. I don't want you in the bridal party. I don't want you near her any more than necessary. Just... leave it alone, Kate."

He'd left before she could argue further, and she'd spent the next three weeks trying to figure out what the hell that meant. *I don't want you around Silver.* Like Kate was some kind of threat. Like her friendship with Seris was something shameful that needed to be hidden from his wife.

It had hurt. Still hurt, actually, like a bruise she kept pressing just to feel the ache.

"There's Seris," David murmured from her other side.

Kate looked up to see Seris at the altar, standing with his groomsmen—his younger brother Julian, two cousins, and his best friend from business school, Cameron. Seris looked perfect in his tailored tuxedo, his dark hair styled back, his expression carefully neutral.

He didn't look happy. He didn't look nervous. He didn't look anything at all.

Kate's stomach twisted.

On the bride's side of the cathedral, she could see the Winters family. Silver's father, distinguished and proud-looking. Her mother, already dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief even though nothing had happened yet.

And Silver's siblings.

Kate had done her research, of course. She always did her research.

Aradis Winters, the oldest at thirty, was seated in the front row with a young man in an impeccable suit who kept leaning over to whisper in his ear. Not a date, apparently. An assistant. Though the way Aradis's hand rested on the man's knee suggested "assistant" was doing a lot of heavy lifting.

Noel Winters, twenty-eight, sat beside another man—also introduced as an assistant, also sitting far too close to be strictly professional.

Kassian Winters, twenty-six, was doing slightly less well at the pretense. His "assistant" had an arm draped across the back of Kassian's pew, and they kept exchanging looks that made Kate want to roll her eyes. Just say you're dating. It's 2020, for God's sake.

And then there was Skylia Winters, Silver's identical twin.

Kate had been fascinated by Skylia from the moment she'd seen her at the engagement party. She and Silver looked exactly alike—same height, same features, same auburn hair—but where Silver was always perfectly styled and elegantly dressed, Skylia looked like she'd rather be anywhere else.

Today, crammed into a bridesmaid dress the color of champagne, Skylia looked particularly miserable. She kept tugging at the neckline and shifting in her heels like they were instruments of torture. Her hair was pulled back in a style that was clearly professional work, but she had the expression of someone plotting murder.

Kate felt a flash of kinship. She understood not quite fitting the mold your family expected.

"I can't believe they're all pretending those are assistants," James whispered, gesturing subtly at Silver's brothers. "Like we're all blind."

"James," their mother hissed. "Hush."

"I'm just saying, if you're going to bring your boyfriend to your sister's wedding, maybe don't insult everyone's intelligence by—"

"James Alexander Bridgerton, I swear to God—"