Chapter 73 Ivy

Chapter 73 Ivy
I’m barely halfway down the corridor when Zachary materializes at my side like a fashionable apparition conjured by sheer audacity.

“Absolutely not,” he declares cheerfully.

I blink, the soft carpet muffling my steps. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You were thinking about getting ready by yourself,” he says, wagging a perfectly manicured finger inches from my nose. “Which is rude. I flew across continents for this face.”

I laugh, the sound echoing faintly against the tall stone walls. “Zach—”

“No,” he cuts in, already steering me toward my room with a guiding hand at my back. “I am doing your hair and makeup. This is non‑negotiable. It’s your birthday, I’m your brother, and I am professionally obligated.”

“Professionally obligated,” I repeat, amused.

“Yes,” he says gravely. “By blood. And by aesthetic.”

We manage exactly three steps before another presence wedges itself between us.

Edward.

He drapes a solid arm over my shoulders possessively, his broad frame radiating warmth and familiarity. His gray eyes narrow in exaggerated suspicion as he looks Zachary up and down, like he’s assessing a threat to national security.

“Absolutely not,” Edward says.

Zach freezes, one hand settling on his hip. “What do you mean, absolutely not?”

Edward jerks a thumb toward himself. “I’m coming too.”

Zach squints. “Why.”

Edward leans down, lowering his voice dramatically, breath warm against my ear. “Because I am not about to let you swoop in with couture and contouring and steal my position as favorite brother.”

I snort. “You’re both ridiculous.”

Zach’s grin turns wicked. “Oh, sweetheart. That battle was over the moment I finished the emerald stitching.”

Edward gasps like he’s been fatally wounded. “See? He’s already manipulating you!”

Zach waves him off and resumes herding me toward my room. “Relax. I don’t need to do much anyway.” He glances at me, expression softening, gray eyes warm. “She’s already beautiful. This is just enhancement.”

Edward freezes mid‑step.

“…He called you beautiful.”

“I heard it,” I say, smiling.

Edward groans like the weight of the world has settled on his shoulders. “This is how it starts.”

My room is bathed in late‑afternoon light when we enter, the tall windows glowing amber as the sun dips lower. Dust motes float lazily through the air. The curtains stir slightly, carrying the faint scent of clean linen and the ever‑present trace of herbs that seems to follow me no matter where I go.

Zachary immediately takes over like the space belongs to him, laying out brushes, pins, and small glass bottles with ritual precision, each placed just so.

“Sit,” he says gently, guiding me toward the vanity.

I do, watching our reflections settle into the mirror—my dark brown hair falling in loose waves over my shoulders, fair skin still flushed from laughter; Zach standing behind me, silver hair catching the light like liquid metal, eyes bright with joy; Edward hovering nearby like an anxious guard dog daring the universe to try something.

Zach runs his fingers lightly through my hair, the touch careful and reverent. “Healthy,” he murmurs. “Strong. You’ve been taking care of yourself.”

Edward straightens, chest puffing instinctively. “We all have been taking care of her.”

“I know,” Zach replies easily. “And I appreciate it.”

Edward blinks, suspicion melting just a fraction.

Zach begins shaping my hair, coaxing the waves into something elegant but effortless—nothing tight, nothing severe. “You’re not a porcelain doll,” he says. “You’re movement. You’re presence.”

He adds just enough makeup to accent what’s already there—dark brown eyes softly framed, fair skin glowing instead of hidden. The brushes whisper against my skin, cool and feather‑light.

When he finally steps back, satisfied, Edward leans in close, studying my reflection like an art critic at a gallery opening.

“…Okay,” Edward admits reluctantly. “She does look incredible.”

Zach smirks. “I told you.”

Edward crosses his arms. “Still not her favorite brother.”

Zach laughs, the sound easy and bright. “Give it time.”

I look at the two of them in the mirror—my brothers, bickering and doting and loving me far too loudly—and my chest fills with warmth.

Whatever tonight brings, whatever surprises wait beyond the doors of this estate, I know this:

I’m not facing it alone.

And I never will again.

I barely have time to breathe before Edward plants himself directly behind Zachary like a very large, very suspicious shadow.

Arms crossed.
Jaw set.
Gray eyes narrowed.

Zach catches our reflections in the mirror and grins. “You know,” he says lightly, picking up a brush, “most people watch makeup being done. They don’t attempt to intimidate it.”

Edward doesn’t blink. “I’m supervising.”

“From two inches away?”

“Yes.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing as Zach gently sweeps my hair away from my face, fingers warm and practiced. “Relax,” Zach says. “I’m enhancing. Not replacing.”

Edward snorts. “That’s what they all say.”

Zach dips the brush into a soft shade, tapping off the excess. “Edward, sweetheart, if I wanted to steal her affection, I’d be doing dramatic eyeliner. This is very restrained.”

Edward leans closer, peering at my reflection. “Why is he using that brush?”

“It’s for blending,” Zach replies patiently.

“Blending what?”

“Colors.”

Edward squints. “Suspicious.”

The cool brush glides along my cheekbone, subtle and deliberate. Zach hums softly, completely in his element.

“Your skin is ridiculous,” he murmurs. “Do you moisturize, or is this genetic cruelty?”

“Both?” I offer.

Edward points accusingly at my face. “See? She doesn’t need this.”

Zach meets Edward’s gaze through the mirror, tone gentle but firm. “She doesn’t need it. That’s the point.”

Edward opens his mouth, closes it, then tries again. “Why are you so close to her face?”

“Because that’s where the face is,” Zach says dryly.

I finally lose it and laugh, the sound bubbling out of me. “Edward, please. You’re acting like he’s performing surgery.”

Edward’s expression softens instantly, suspicion melting into reluctant acceptance. “I just don’t want you turning into someone you’re not.”

Zach pauses, meeting Edward’s eyes in the mirror. His voice stays light, but the sincerity is unmistakable. “I’d never do that. I’m just making sure everyone else sees what we already do.”

Edward studies him for a long moment.

Then he exhales. “Fine. But if she blinks twice, I’m flipping a table.”

Zach grins. “Deal.”

He steps back, adjusts one last detail, then turns my chair slightly toward the mirror. “Okay. Done.”

I look.

It’s still me.

Just… brighter. My dark brown eyes framed softly, fair skin glowing instead of hidden, confidence sharpening my features without changing them.

“Oh,” I breathe.

Edward leans over my shoulder, eyes widening despite himself. “…Okay. Wow.”

I glance up at him. “You approve?”

He clears his throat and straightens. “Obviously. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Zach beams. “She’s stunning. I win.”

Edward groans. “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

I smile at both of them in the mirror—my brothers, hovering and bickering and loving me far too loudly.

And for once, I don’t feel like I have to choose between being protected and being myself.

I get to be both.