Erika was smart, sociable, and diligent. She had worked quickly and was already well regarded among the staff after only a few short days.

  It was no wonder, then, how she managed to accept an assignment that would separate us the moment she wanted space away from me. Despite being my personal maid, she was acting as a camp follower for a knight patrol past the border wall, something that would buy her several days.

  I had no opportunity to learn this until the next morning, when I was awoken by Lydia instead of her.

  Lydia frowned, putting a finger to her cheek. "My apologies, Lady Sophia. I was under the impression you had given your blessing."

  "I...yes. I had. Sorry, it slipped my mind until now."

  "Helen has volunteered to be your personal maid for the time being. Is that acceptable, my lady?"

  "Yes, Lydia. Send her in when she's available."

  Lydia bowed, exiting my bedroom, and Helen entered not long after.

  I sighed, accepting Helen's hand as she helped me to my feet to dress me.

  "Good morning, Helen."

  "Good morning, my lady."

  There was a quiet gasp once my nightgown had left my shoulders.

  "Helen?"

  "I apologize for my impropriety, my lady."

  "Please, I was just wondering if something was wrong? Speak freely."

  Helen gave a long pause, and I felt her warm hand on my back.

  "There's... no mark."

  "...There never is. Not for me."

  There was a long silence, full of understanding, only broken by a quiet whisper when Helen left the room.

  "Thank you, my lady."

  ---

  In the days to come, the preparations for our wedding turned from quiet whispers into a growing storm.

  A week simply was not enough time to sew a dress for someone of my status.

  I had welcomed the reprieve from Adrian, as he was not allowed to see the dress before it was finished, but my days now consisted of fittings, refittings, and adjustments, sitting in a room with a team of six very dedicated ladies as they desperately began turning the cloth in my marriage chest into something that could pass muster for the bride of a future duke.

  White, of course. White upon white, like heaps of snow being draped over me, layer by layer until I was smothered by the weight of it all.

  The train would be too long, so someone would hold it for me. The sash would be too tight, so someone would tighten it for me. The lace and buttons up the back would be impossible for me to close, and so someone would have to close them for me.

  A bride was not a woman, and she did not wear a dress. Together, they became one symbol: "Here comes the future duchess, and all who follow behind. Behold our wealth, our bounty, and our service."

  I desperately wanted it to end, but the end would only come with the wedding, which I desperately wanted not to come.

  Helen did her best to console me, but she was not Erika. Even in our private moments, she would not drop the walls between servant and lady. I had no one, and in service of our mission, in service of denying me the opportunity to turn her from her chosen path, Erika had made it that way.

  The only activity that could break me from the pack was prayer, and pray I did.

  ---

  The chapel of the keep was the second largest room after the great hall.

  It was a tall, grand room, with rows upon rows of seats, and six small statues along the back wall. Each of the statues was lit by both window and candlelight. It was before these statues that I now knelt, on a soft covering left for this purpose.

  There was only one day left before the wedding.

  A bride was obligated to three separate tasks before her wedding. First, she must have a dress. Second, she must maintain her purity. Finally, she must cleanse herself through prayer.

  Before, I had not often prayed to the gods, and to be entirely truthful, I didn't even know their names. But I had come to pray every day I could.

  To get away from Adrian. To get away from the stifling room with the ladies and their dress. To seek any sort of privacy or quiet.

  I prayed for Erika's safety. I prayed for our success. I prayed for the Nightingales, and hoped that they were being provided for, outside of my sight.

  I prayed for Diana, that I might see her again.

  Even if I did not know their names, I prayed that the gods would hear me anyways.

  "Although I do not know you, I beg for your forgiveness. Although I do not deserve it, please grant me happiness."

  The door to the chapel opened, breaking me from my thoughts, and I turned to see an older woman step inside.

  Her footsteps were quiet, reverent. She walked the entire length of the chapel, and took a place to my side to begin her own prayer.

  She was dressed in black, and wore a veil of mourning.

  She clasped her hands, one over the other, and I realized that interlacing my fingers was not proper. I sheepishly corrected myself, but I could feel her eyes on me as I did so.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I became worried that she was passing judgement, from beyond her veil, and lost my ability to focus completely.

  As I began to stand, she coughed quietly.

  "You don't have to leave on my account, my lady. I'll be here only a short while."

  I hesitated, before slowly returning to my kneeling posture.

  The silence quickly became unbearable, though.

  "I... haven't seen you around the keep, madam."

  Her head tilted to look at me, but I couldn't see her clearly through her veil.

  "No, you wouldn't have, my lady. I keep myself beyond the walls, and only come here once a week."

  She gestured to the sixth statue, a woman bearing a harp. She was crying as she played.

  "On Doni's day."

  I paused, wondering if each god had a day of the week, but feeling that I would look utterly foolish to ask.

  My contemplation must have been on my face, as she continued unbidden.

  "Goddess of the Lost, my lady. Her song guides spirits to their rest."

  I turned my gaze downward, away from the woman, and to my own hands. They felt sweaty.

  "Ah... I'm sorry for your loss."

  "Don't fret, my lady. He died many years ago. But today is the day we pray for lost ones, and pray I shall."

  I lowered my head.

  "Doni, I pray that you haven't already taken Diana."

  The silence grew long between me and the woman, and soon she made the attempt to stand. I rose before her, helping her to her feet.

  "Thank you, my lady. I wish you a life full of blessings for your marriage."

  A pang of guilt struck me, and I held my hand to my chest. She was praying for the success of something I already planned to stifle before it could begin.

  She made her way out of the chapel, and I turned to face the gods once again.

  "Please, forgive me."

  ---

  I would finally see Erika again that night.

  She quietly entered the room, unannounced, and sat on my bed while I lay there, trying to sleep.

  I reached out to grab her hand before she could leave again.

  "Erika."

  Her guilt was plain upon her face. "Hello, Sophie."

  "There's something else I want to hear from you, Erika."

  "...I'm sorry for leaving you, Sophie."

  "You're sorry for leaving me? That's not what you should be apologizing for."

  She turned away, but I held firm.

  "Erika, we had a whole week to think of any other plan, but you denied us that. You were so set on this course that you refused to give us the opportunity to come up with any alternative."

  I gripped her tight, perhaps too tight. "You could have taught me how to make the impression myself. To be the one to make the sacrifice. To see Adrian on my wedding night and bear the responsibility on my own. That's what you should be apologizing for."

  "You've denied me the choice. I deserved that much."

  I let her go, and turned away from her to clutch my pillow to my face. I didn't want her to see my tears.

  "...You couldn't learn to make the impression in only a week, Sophie. Not quickly, not safely. It has nothing to do with your ability, or your intelligence, but I'm the only reasonable choice."

  "...That's a great argument, Erika. It might have even been convincing. But it wasn't your choice to make alone."

  "..."

  She leaned in to hug me from behind, but I withdrew further away from her.

  "...I'm sorry, Sophie."

  "Are you really, or are you just saying what you need to to get what you want? You're so good at that."

  I immediately regretted saying those words, but it was too late. By the time I turned back around to look at her, she was withdrawing from the room, her hand to her face.

  "Erika!"

  The door closed.

  "..."

  I turned back over, and failed to fall asleep.

  ---

  Erika and I sat in silence in the bride's antechamber, waiting for our time to enter the ceremony.

  Through the door, I heard laughter. Singing. Music.

  I was wearing my dress, barely finished in time, and barely held together with fast stitches, with several mistakes covered over rather than fixed.

  "This dress is as fake as this marriage."

  While I was consumed with these bitter thoughts, Erika and I failed to meet each other's gaze. I didn't know how to approach the apology I knew I owed her when I still felt like she owed me one.

  "Hopefully, after this is all over, we'll have enough money and time to forget any of this happened."

  A sudden quiet from beyond the door signalled my time had almost come, and Erika stood up to hold the train of my dress.

  "She didn't even get a chance to appreciate how we look in it."

  But this time, I was glad that I was wearing it instead of her. I hoped that Erika's own marriage would be so much happier than this.

  ---

  The chapel was decorated all in white and blue, the colors of House Hiems.

  The green of House Printemps made no appearance.

  The number of guests was small, and all faces I recognized from across the keep. The Duke and Duchess themselves, of course. Most of the servants, and all of the knights. Captain Harpe, Lord Gavin, and Lydia were standing off to one side as the official witnesses.

  Adrian was waiting at the end of the chapel, with a priest whom I did not know. He was dressed in a gallant dress uniform of white and blue, fitting the new military station that he had often bragged to me about.

  I had no one to represent me here, and I walked alone, save for Erika behind me.

  There were cheers, and music, but I felt my breath quicken. Every step closer to Adrian, I felt further away, and a ringing was growing in my ears with every blessing called my way.

  I found myself retreating, even further. Behind my eyes, behind my head, and even further beyond that.

  Outside of myself, and into a familiar, dark corner, where the girl braced for the coming moment.

  Her body walked to the end of the rows of seats, and stood next to the thing called Adrian.

  The body stood and waited, as the priest uttered prayers to the gods that it did not understand. The horrible thing grinned at her, waiting for his moment.

  At last, finally, the body was called upon to say words that signalled its marriage to this thing they called Adrian: "I swear, under the eyes of the gods, that I will love you and serve you as wife, until the day that we join them."

  The priest pronounced them, beast and body, man and wife, and the beast seized its prize.

  A long kiss that drew cheers from the crowd. The bells thundered in the body's ears, and the girl shrank and shivered in her corner, refusing to accept her new reality.

  "Only for today," she thought, as her body was gripped and driven from the chapel by the beast's claws.

  "Only until tonight."