Picking up the Bride

Finding the apartment she wanted, the blonde witch reached out to tap the smooth plane of wood. There was no answer.

Puzzled, Dianna knocked a bit louder. She couldn’t have gotten the day wrong, could she? She could’ve sworn Maria had said Thursday…

“If that’s you Dianna, come in! The door’s not locked!” Finally came the distant voice of a rather frazzled Maria Doloresta.

Chuckling, the twenty-four year old woman grasped the golden handle and allowed it to magically twist open beneath her grip. She surveyed her surroundings, rather surprised and envious at how her friend managed to keep the flat tidy despite her graduation being around the corner. There was a soft meow as a caramel-coloured creature leapt up onto the spotless white armrest and peered up at Dianna in interest.

“Hello there, lovely.” She murmured, gently scratching the space behind the cat’s ears.

(For Mai, because she insisted And just so you know- it's late January, because Russel said that he's already recieved a wedding invitation)

There were hurried footsteps before Maria entered the open living-room space, her eyebrows crinkled with the effort of remembering. Absent-mindedly, she reached up as if to touch her hair, but she needn’t have; every glossy curl was in place. As always. Looking perfectly put together even when she was running around like a woman possessed seemed effortless to the witch.

“Oh Dianna!” The brunette quickly swooped down to brush her lips against both her cheeks, in her typical French manner before pulling away, “I’ll be right back. I just need to send this off,” she promised.

It was only then did Dianna notice the slip of parchment clutched tightly in the younger woman’s hand.

“Is that…?” she enquired mildly, as she stifled a laugh.

Maria sighed,

“Yes. I know what a procrastinator Liyya can be and her dress fitting just can’t be put off any longer!”

Spotting Arcerbus in the distance, she abruptly dashed off to fling the window open.

Amused, Dianna merely looked on as her friend began to chide the tawny-eyed falcon in rapid-fire French. She gave a shiver. Living in England, for the first half year of her marriage had made the witch neglect her French studies, but seeing as she was in France to stay, it would be wise to start picking it up again.

“Speaking of postponed dresses…” the blonde woman hinted mischievously as Maria finally secured the parchment to Arcerbus’ foot and had turned away.

“Argh, don’t remind me, Di.” She muttered, reaching up tuck a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

Bending down to grab her purse, Maria’s eyes quickly combed the flat she and her fiancé— her heart gave a little jump — shared. Her slender fingers easily did up the buttons of her coat, as she tried to think of anything else she needed while ignoring the look of exasperation her friend was casting her.

“Honestly Maria, all of us have already gone for our bridesmaid dress fittings and you’ve barely even decided on a wedding gown!” Dianna’s tone was reproachful.

“Are you even planning on getting married anytime soon?”

“Says the woman who waited fifteen weeks before the ceremony to choose her wedding flowers,” retorted Maria, with the wrinkle of her nose.

“And besides,” she continued,

“I have plenty of time left,” the witch said defensively.

“Maria,” the blonde woman gripped her cousin-in-law’s shoulders and wheeled her around to face the calendar hanging on the south wall.

“It’s the 27th!” she stabbed the glossy paper emphatically, “Of January! Your wedding is in three months!”

“And you still haven’t chosen something to wear!” Dianna scowled, placing her hands on her hips, “Do you want to walk down the aisle naked?” she demanded.

“3 ½, actually,” she couldn’t help correcting Dianna, briefly turning away to wrap a sapphire-coloured scarf about her neck.

Maria began smoothening the beige lapel of her coat and checking her reflection in the hall mirror as she waited for her friend and wedding planner to calm down.

“And no, I don’t think my father would appreciate nudity at my wedding,” she added lightly.

It didn’t take long before the blonde woman’s annoyance deflated. She reached out to give Maria a reluctant, but apologetic nonetheless hug.

“How on earth did Nicholas put up with you?” she grumbled, “Or Jacob and Julian for that matter?”

“And why have you been putting this dress business off anyway? It’s not like you, Maria.” Dianna looked up at Maria, kicking into therapy mode.

The dark-haired witch sighed, avoiding her friend’s concerned expression, which was making her uncomfortable. She was so intuitive, almost like Liyya. Sometimes she wondered if that was what had attracted her to Dianna in the first place. Because something in her reminded Maria of home?

“I just want it to be perfect,” she sighed, “It just has to be, for Jacob.”

She gestured to the coffee table where stacks of wedding-related items lay, albeit neatly,

“I still feel guilty,” Maria admitted half-heartedly, “And I don’t how else to make it up to him. To prove to him that he’s the one I want.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Dianna gently embraced her once more, “He knows,” she attempted to assure her.

As close as they were, the witch still didn’t know a lot about Maria’s past relationship with Jacob Daniels. Nicholas always spoke vaguely of his cousin’s love life, sometimes with a touch of fondness, mostly with exasperation. And whenever she prodded him for more information, he would always sigh and make some offhand comment about his cousin’s pride, and apparent blindness to the things that really mattered.

‘Mais, ne t’en fais pas, chérie.’ Nicholas would suddenly murmur affectionately, curling his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his chest, ‘This will all be revealed in time.’

What exactly her husband meant by that enigmatic statement, Dianna wasn’t quite sure until, that was, she had finally met the couple for herself during her own wedding. And then it was clear.

“Trust me, he knows.”

She pulled away, “Now,” the blonde said briskly, “Let’s go. There’s no time to waste. We need to find the perfect dress and get it altered, vite!”