034 - The Same Words

034 - The Same Words
|||YASMIN|||

Cassien's wedding was today.

The invitation still sat on the breakfast table where Marcus had left it — cream parchment, gold lettering, demanding my attendance like it had any right to.

"You don't have to go," Zeirik said. Third time that morning.

He was sprawled across the sofa with battle reports on his chest he hadn't looked at once. His eyes had been on me the whole time.

"We've been over this." I stopped at the window. Snow fell outside in heavy silence. "If I hide it looks like guilt. Or worse — like I'm still in love with him and can't bear to watch."

"Are you?" Quiet. Careful. "Still in love with him?"

I turned to look at him. At this man I'd known for weeks who somehow already sat in more of my chest than four years of marriage ever had.

"No," I said. "But that doesn't mean it won't hurt."

He set the reports down and stood. Crossed to me until I had to look up at him. "That's why we're going together. And we make it very fucking clear that you're exactly where you want to be."

I didn't get to respond. Mira knocked and let herself in, which for Mira was practically restraint.

The gown she brought was deep sapphire. Mira worked my hair up with silver pins and steady hands, and I watched myself take shape in the mirror and felt strangely detached from the woman looking back at me. "Perfect." She stepped back. "You look like a queen."

My throat tightened.

I was supposed to be.

Zeirik appeared in the doorway and went still. His eyes moved across me slowly and for one unguarded moment his face was completely open — raw and hungry and real — before he shut it down.

He cleared his throat. "Fuck. You look incredible."

The smile came before I could stop it. I followed him out into the corridor and we walked to the ceremony with my hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, every eye finding us the moment we stepped through each set of doors. I felt them the way you feel a draft — cold, persistent, looking for the crack. I kept my spine straight, my face serene.

The grand hall was white and gold and candlelight. Beautiful. Exactly what I'd wanted once.
What I had once. 

We were seated near the front. Of course.

The music began. Everyone rose. I rose with them and found my hand had moved to Zeirik's arm without my permission. Hana appeared at the end of the aisle in cream silk, white roses in her hair, her belly soft beneath the fabric. Radiant in the way of someone who had no idea yet what this world did to women who trusted it. Cassien stepped forward to meet her and Zeirik's hand covered mine. He didn't squeeze. Didn't say a word. Just covered it. And I breathed.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Cassien's voice carried clear and steady. "My heart, my body, my soul — all of it yours until death parts us."

The same words.

I'd been waiting without knowing I was waiting for him to change something. Even one. Just to make it different from what he'd said to me.

He didn't.

My hands sat completely still in my lap. I was aware of the effort that took — the quiet, invisible work of them, the muscles holding everything in place. The crowd applauded and I applauded with them and it was done. The numbness that settled in my chest was almost worse than pain would have been. Pain I knew. This flat hollow absence where devastation should have been felt like something I didn't have a name for yet.

The reception was warm and loud and relentless. Zeirik stayed close, cold and solid beside me through every smile I assembled for the right faces. When the musicians started up he turned to me. "One dance. Then we leave whenever you want." He led me onto the floor and moved easily, unhurried, nothing like the trained precision Cassien had always performed with. Just present. Just there.

"You're doing well," he murmured as we turned.

"I'm pretending."

"You're good at it."

"I've had practice." I kept my eyes over his shoulder. The room was easier to look at than his face right now. "He used the same vows."

Zeirik was quiet.

"The exact same words." My voice stayed level. "I kept waiting for him to change something."

"He didn't."

"No."

I looked at him then. Found him already looking at me, mismatched eyes steady, not pretending anything. We turned again. The music was low and slow and I was already certain I'd never hear anything like it again without remembering this room.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For the dance."

The corner of his mouth moved. "Anytime, little viper."

And despite everything, I almost smiled.