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Helena's eyes flashed. "And I'll work to construct it.""So will I," Brenna went on, getting to her feet beside Lily. "You are the final beam of light for the James family. And I'll destroy the universe before I extinguish the flame."Vandaulf stood also, stepping closer across the room until he stood beside the three women who'd influenced his life more fully than blood or heritage ever could."What about the others of Carlstons?" he asked quietly. "The board? The ones they still follow Brigs in secret?Helena snorted. "Let them try. I'm not dead yet. And if they think I'm going to sit back and watch them tear apart the only decent thing our family has left, they've clearly forgotten who established the damn empire in the first place."Brenna released a low, dark, dry laugh. "We might be grandmothers, but we are not harmless."Lily smiled past the heaviness in her chest. "Perhaps the war isn't done. But at least now… we fight it together."Helena rapped her cane once on the floor. "T
The evening air cooled the heat of the sun-baked ceremony. Fireflies flashed in the garden like shooting stars, twinkling between champagne glasses and dying flower petals. People had dispersed and laughter diminished into the soft buzz of music still resonating from the big tent.Within a quieter corner of the estate—a candlelit parlor with velvet armchairs and portraits too heavy for their frames—Lily and Vandaulf rested on an old embroidered couch, fingers still intertwined like they feared letting go.The door groaned.Two women entered the room—neither in need of an introduction. They bore no fanfare, no entourage. Only presence.Brenna James, clad in rich navy, her silver hair styled into a regal twist, stood proudly upright. Her eyes, so much like Lily's, were brimming with tears, but her back was straight.Aside from her, in a fitted emerald shawl that complemented the emerald pin at her neck, Helena Carlston walked with measured poise. Her cane tapped softly on the floor, a s
Her eyes lingered.Or the illusion of it, Lily guessed."To your courage," Brenna finished, lifting her glass, "and to your love—may it always be wiser than your fear."No mistaking the gravity of those words. Not for Vandaulf. Not for Lily.They lifted their glasses.And for a while, all was laughter and smooth jazz, candlelight and stolen glances. But under the table, Vandaulf grasped her hand—and when he tightened his fingers, she knew. The question he wasn't asking.Who are you, truly, Lily?For since the hospital, since the truth almost shattered the glass walls between them, he had known something lingered—unspoken. Unhealed.She leaned into him, kissed his cheek, and breathed, "Let's slip away."His eyes widened, surprised, but curious. "To where?"Vandaulf smiled as the emcee's voice boomed mock-seriously through the speakers, breaking the spell between them."Hep hep! The party isn't over yet! Get the couple out to the dance floor again!" he boomed in mock gravity. The crowd
The officiant smiled at the best man, who produced the rings."Those rings serve as a symbol of the unending circle of love. Let them always symbolize the pledge you have given here today."Vandaulf put the ring on Lily's finger."With this ring, I thee wed."Lily mimicked the gesture, putting the ring on Vandaulf's finger."With this ring, I thee wed."The golden ring shone as Lily's trembling fingers forced it onto Vandaulf's palm. It shone like a promise not sworn in gold but in fire, in tears, in forgiveness. In love that had clawed its way out of devastation.Their palms stayed—his bigger, balancing hers, their fingers intertwining in a grasp that felt the world narrowing to them alone.The officiant smiled, voice rich with fervor."Lily and Vandaulf, before your family and friends, before the spirits which watch over you, you have said the words and performed the rituals that are binding your hearts to each other in marriage. By virtue residing in me—" she smiled lovingly at the
In the daylight, she was not the one who wore a mask to hide secrets behind her smile.No.She was Lily James.The last of her line.And tomorrow… she would be Lily Carlston.A soft knock echoed against the door."Come in," she said.Brenna entered, bearing a silver tray with a teacup and a plate of calming herbs. "Couldn't sleep either, could you?"Lily turned to her. "No. It's as if it's all too loud. My heartbeat. The silence. The stars outside."Brenna put the tray down on the table and pulled in the chair. "That's how I felt the night before I married your grandfather. Like the entire world knew that I was on the precipice of something enormous.""Was it a good marriage?" Lily whispered, her voice soft. True.Brenna's smile weakened, then smiled again with a weight of remembering in her eyes. "It was. messy. But it was mine. We broke and we fixed. We promised and broke promises. But always we came back to one another." She took Lily's hand. "Love is never kind. Sometimes it comes
"Seriously," Helena said with a wicked grin, "we were just checking if you two had passed out hugging each other or eloped early."Brenna, stifling her giggles behind a silk handkerchief, contributed, "But this is better. You two are adorably sweet."Lily gently groaned and buried her face in Vandaulf's chest. "They were watching us?"Helena sauntered in, her hand waving. "Not watching. Observing. Appreciating. Lightly judging.""You two are impossible," Vandaulf grumbled, but his lips lifted into a helpless grin.Brenna advanced, wiping a thumb under Lily's tear-stained eye. "Darling, don't cry so much. You'll dehydrate before the ceremony even begins.""I wasn't crying," Lily whispered, obviously lying.Oh, sweetheart," Helena said, chuckling as she stood on her cane. "Don't lie to women who've cried in wedding dresses. We know the blotchy glow.""I should have locked the door," Lily growled."But then we would've missed this perfect little scene," Brenna winked. "The pendant… the v
The sun poured into the bridal suite in liquid gold, its warm, forgiving light bathed all it touched. Dust motes floated serenely in the beams of light that poured in through the high French windows. Below the chandelier, Lily stood on a minute circular dais, her breath suspended, her gaze locked on the mirror opposite her.The dress glowed as moonlight did—silk and lace embroidered into poetry. It clung to her contours with grace, flowing down her legs like a liquid and lighting up with fire in every move."Stand still, darling," panted the seamstress, bent over Lily's feet. Her fingers flew rapidly, tugging on the hem, pinching intermittently."I am trying," Lily panted, eyes fuzzy, voice quivering. "It just does not seem true."Brenna swept in without knocking, her entrance as gentle as a lullaby. She stood in the doorway, her breath caught."Oh, Lily," she said, placing a hand on her chest. "You look like. you emerged from a dream."Lily moved her head, eyes shining with unshed te
The post-engagement days were a fantasy woven out of strands of golden sunlight and gentle laughter. The Carlston Estate, foreboding and dark, was now radiant. It pulsed with purpose—florists dashing along hallways with arms loaded with ivory roses, tailors darting to and from with packages of silk draped over their arms, and cooks darting back and forth with taste-test plates that sent fragrant odors wafting through the air. There was laughter once more. There was music. There was hope.And in the midst of it all—Lily and Vandaulf.“You’re breathing too loud,” Lily muttered without looking up from her sketchpad, a pencil tucked behind her ear, the other in her hand, tapping against the paper.“I’m literally just existing,” Vandaulf replied from the couch, watching her from over a stack of fabric swatches. “You’re the one judging ribbon samples like they hold state secrets.”"Yes, they do keep state secrets," she told him sternly, holding two very similar champagne-colored swatches in
Morning sunlight streamed through the Carlston house windows, bathing the stone floors in a warm golden glow once filled with power, secrets, and tears. But now, the quiet was serene. The war was over. Brigs Carlston had died. The ghosts were serene. And life—sweet, still life—started to take back its space again.At the heart of the estate garden in which sorrow previously grew like weeds, now blossoming roses graced that space.Vandaulf was among them.His eyes also looked for her simultaneously. Lily sat beneath the ancient tree where she had fled from the world. Her dark black hair fell down the sides of her shoulders like ink, and a half-opened journal lay across her lap. She wasn't writing anymore—just sitting with it. Remembering, maybe. Letting go.He swallowed hard. His heart pounded harder, the moment in his chest balancing like gravity."She deserves better," he whispered.“I’d say she deserves everything,” a familiar voice teased gently behind him. Vandaulf whirled, surpr