As he always does, Ernest walks straight over to me, past me, and stands behind me and one step to the left.
“Is there something you would like to say?” I ask, my gaze flicking from one scholar to another.
“You’re to marry her tomorrow?” one of them asks.
Dipping my chin, I stare at them and wait for them to tell me what they want. They were the ones who told me that I must marry her and now they’re in here asking questions. Whatever they have figured out, whatever they know, they better spit it out.
“Her magic grows, she is the one, if you were questioning.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
The head scholar takes a step forward. “We saw her magic in full force with the weather, but there is more to her. Whatever her true powers are, they are growing inside of her. We aren’t sure what they are, but she probably knows.
“She is only growing stronger with each day here, and once you’re married and your heir grows inside of her, we believe that her magic will grow too and hopefully reach its full potential soon.”
BIRDIE
The dress is gorgeous, but it’s clearly not white. I don’t know why it seems so important, but I’ve always wanted my wedding dress to be white. Apparently, here, you just wear your nicest dress for your wedding and not necessarily a deemed wedding dress. I’m not sure how I personally feel about that, but according to Martha, Florence, and Abraham, it doesn’t matter.
“It’s beautiful,” Martha whispers.
Abraham is finishing putting up the buttons in the back, at the neck, and is looking me over to make sure it’s perfect. The dress itself is pure silk and a light blue. It almost matches my eyes, it is gorgeous, but it’s not white.
I decide to stop being picky and just wear the fucking thing without complaint. In this world, it would never look like my dream wedding dress anyway. Sliding my hands down the front of my skirt to smooth it out, I take a long look at myself in the mirror.
Tomorrow I’m going to be a wife.
Wife.
A wife to a virtual stranger, in another dimension, to a man some gods have chosen for me. How is this even real? I start to panic and I suddenly feel like the tight collar around my neck is growing even tighter.
Florence must sense my panic attack for what it is, because in seconds the buttons are undone and the laces of my corset are loosened. Gasping for air, I hear her excuse Abraham, thank him, and tell him to leave the trunk of dresses in the hallway before she closes the door.
“You must calm,” she urges.
Turning to her, I gulp the air and sink down to the floor, assuredly wrinkling my pretty new dress.
“I can’t calm,” I admit on a whimper. “Did you know sparks shot out between us earlier? Did you know that I connected with my sister, but she couldn’t hear me? Did you know that while we were together, I could hear Colt’s thoughts?”
Florence then gasps before her own ass sinks down to the floor in front of me. “What?” she breathes.
“Something is really wrong. Like something is wrong, Florence.”
Her eyes are wide, but her lips curve up. “I knew that your magic was growing. We must, must, must work together to harvest this, to control it. If you can tap into people’s minds, you can be the greatest asset to your new husband.”
“How?” I screech.
She laughs softly, then reaches out and takes my hand in hers. “We will work together. We will figure it out, even if I have to cast a spell on you and guide you in the direction you need to go.”
I lean forward, hope filling my chest, my heart, and my soul. “You can do that?”
“I can do that, and I believe that it is time that I do. Your magic grows stronger each day and we must not allow it to grow so strong that you hurt yourself or someone else.”
“Please help me,” I beg.
Florence nods, then slowly rises to her feet. She holds out her hands and I slip my palms in hers as she gently pulls me to my own feet.
“I like this dress much better than the first ones he brought over,” she says as she starts to undress me. “They were not created for a lady such as yourself.”
“They were created for a whore,” I snap.
She hums. “As I said, they were not created for a lady such as yourself.”
She lifts her eyes, her gaze finding mine in the reflection of the mirror. “You are not, nor have you ever been Colton’s mistress. You are his lady and you were meant to be his wife, always.”
“But Adelaide,” I breathe.
She shakes her head. “Adelaide was kind of heart. She was sweet, but she was much too soft for him. She was never meant to be with the man that he is now, the ruler of an entire country. She was not chosen by the gods to be at his side. She was and always should have been the sweet wife to a farmer. You are and have always been meant to be the strong wife of a powerful leader, one who holds magic and charm.”
Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head a couple of times. “Florence,” I rasp.
“Now, let’s get you back in your day dress and try to get that magic under control.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
COLT
I watch them.
They’re in the distance, far away from the soldiers’ camp, but still close enough that I can see them and ensure their safety. Jeremiah, Markus, and Thatcher stand guard along with Ernest who hasn’t said anything about the letter from the Assembly or about the scholars and their words from earlier.
“What do you think her
