MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Ninety-Six: The Morning Of
The morning came soft and gold.
The sun rose over the palace walls, painting the white towers in shades of rose and amber. The elephants were awake, their trunks raised, their ears flapping, their heads crowned with marigolds and jasmine. The flowers were fresh. The mandap was waiting. The chairs were set. The aisle was clear.
Percy was in the courtyard before the sun. He had been waiting for this day his whole life. His kurta was cream. His dhoti was gold. His face was bright. His hands were shaking.
Honey found him standing in front of the elephants. His eyes were wet.
"You're crying," Honey said.
Percy wiped his face. "I'm not crying."
She took his hand. "You're crying."
He pulled her close. "I'm happy."
She kissed his cheek. "I know."
The brides were in their rooms. White sarees. Ivory silk. Cream lace. The color of new beginnings. The color of purity. The color of the day they would become wives.
Lyra stood in front of the mirror. Her saree was white, pure white, like snow on mountains, like clouds in summer. Gold thread wove through the fabric, thin as spider silk, catching the light like morning rays. Her mehendi was dark on her hands, the peacocks and flowers, the sun rising over mountains, the man reaching for her hand. Her hair was loose. Her face was blank. Her eyes were not.
Care stood beside her. Her saree was ivory, warm and soft, like the first light of dawn. Silver thread wove through the fabric, delicate as moonlight, shimmering like stars. Her mehendi was dark on her hands, the waves and currents, the lighthouse on the shore, the man waiting inside. Her hair was braided. Her face was soft. Her eyes were bright.
Rakki stood behind them. Her saree was cream, rich and deep, like the heart of a pearl. Copper thread wove through the fabric, bold and bright, like embers in the night. Her mehendi was dark on her hands, the flames and embers, the phoenix rising, the man walking toward her through the smoke. Her hair was wild. Her face was fierce. Her eyes were soft.
Mica stood at the window. Her saree was off-white, clean and pure, like the pages of a new book. Bronze thread wove through the fabric, hidden in the folds, revealing itself only in the light. Her mehendi was dark on her hands, the fractals and spirals, the Fibonacci sequence in her palm, the man walking into her equation. Her hair was pinned. Her face was focused. Her eyes were calm.
Jay walked into the room. Her saree was pale gold, soft and warm, like the sun on winter mornings. Her hands were in her lap. Her stomach was flat. The twins were moving. She looked at the brides. At her sisters. At the women who would be wives before the sun set.
"You're beautiful," Jay said.
Lyra looked at her. "I don't know how to be a bride."
Jay took her hands. "You don't have to know. You just have to be here."
Care smiled. "She's been saying that all week."
Jay laughed. "Because it's true."
Rakki touched her mehendi. "It's dark. It's ready."
Mica adjusted her glasses. "The color saturation is optimal for the ceremony."
Rakki stared at her. "You're analyzing the mehendi."
Mica's face didn't change. "I'm appreciating it."
The women laughed. The room was bright. The morning was gold. The brides were ready.
The grooms were in their rooms. Alex stood in front of the mirror. His kurta was white, pure white, like the first page of a new story. Gold thread wove through the fabric, thin as spider silk, catching the light like morning rays. His mehendi was dark on his hands, the mirror of Lyra's, the woman reaching for his hand, the sun rising over mountains, the promise of forever. His hair was neat. His face was pale. His hands were shaking.
Cole stood beside him. His kurta was ivory, warm and soft, like the first light of dawn. Silver thread wove through the fabric, delicate as moonlight, shimmering like stars. His mehendi was dark on his hands, the mirror of Care's, the woman standing at the lighthouse, the waves crashing on the shore, the promise of home. His hair was combed. His face was calm. His hands were steady.
Ci N stood behind them. His kurta was cream, rich and deep, like the heart of a pearl. Copper thread wove through the fabric, bold and bright, like embers in the night. His mehendi was dark on his hands, the mirror of Rakki's, the woman standing in the fire, the phoenix rising, the promise of forever. His hair was wild. His face was bright. His hands were still.
Calix stood at the window. His kurta was off-white, clean and pure, like the pages of a new book. Bronze thread wove through the fabric, hidden in the folds, revealing itself only in the light. His mehendi was dark on his hands, the mirror of Mica's, the woman walking into his equation, the Fibonacci sequence in his palm, the promise of infinity. His hair was messy. His face was focused. His eyes were calm.
Keifer walked into the room. His kurta was deep gold, warm and steady, like the sun at noon. He looked at the grooms. At his brothers. At the men who would be husbands before the sun set.
"You're ready," Keifer said.
Alex looked at him. "I'm terrified."
Keifer smiled. "Good."
Cole laughed. "That's not helpful."
Keifer put his hand on Alex's shoulder. "She's been waiting for you her whole life. She's not going anywhere."
Alex's hands steadied. His breath slowed. His heart still pounded. But his hands were steady.
The women gathered in the brides' room. Jay in pale gold. Ella in soft pink. Freya in silver gray. Grace in deep wine. Tita Gemma in butter yellow. Tita Rachel in cream. Honey in lavender. They were the colors of the women who had come before. The women who would stand beside the brides.
Lyra stood in the center. Her saree was white. Her mehendi was dark. Her hair was loose. Her face was blank.
Ella stepped forward. Her hands were gentle. Her voice was soft. "Your hair."
Lyra looked at her. "What about it?"
Ella smiled. "I'm going to braid it."
She brushed Lyra's hair. Her hands were gentle. Her strokes were slow. Lyra's shoulders relaxed. Her face softened. Her eyes closed.
"She used to braid my hair," Care said. "When we were in Manila. Before everything."
Rakki looked at her. "You had long hair?"
Care laughed. "I had long hair."
Mica looked up from her calculations. "The structural integrity of a braid depends on the tension of each strand."
Rakki stared at her. "You're analyzing hair braiding."
Mica adjusted her glasses. "I'm appreciating it."
Ella finished the braid. It was long. It was thick. It was beautiful.
Lyra looked in the mirror. Her face was blank. Her eyes were not. "I look like a bride."
Jay took her hand. "You are a bride."
The women gathered around Care. Her saree was ivory. Her mehendi was dark. Her hair was braided. Her face was soft.
Freya stepped forward. Her hands were sharp. Her voice was low. "Your jewelry."
Care looked at her. "What about it?"
Freya smiled. It was small. It was real. "I'm going to put it on."
She took the earrings from the box. Gold. Small. Simple. The earrings Care had chosen weeks ago. The earrings she would wear when she became Cole's wife.
She put them in Care's ears. Her hands were steady. Her touch was light. Care's eyes were wet.
"You're crying," Freya said.
Care touched her face. "I'm not crying."
Freya's smile widened. "You're crying."
Care laughed. "I'm happy."
Grace stepped forward. Her hands were strong. Her voice was deep. "The necklace."
Rakki looked at her. "I don't wear necklaces."
Grace's face didn't change. "You're wearing this one."
She took the necklace from the box. Gold. Bold. Bright. The necklace Rakki had chosen weeks ago. The necklace she would wear when she became Ci N's wife.
She put it around Rakki's neck. Her hands were steady. Her touch was firm. Rakki's face was fierce. Her eyes were soft.
"You look like a bride," Grace said.
Rakki touched the necklace. "I am a bride."
Tita Gemma stepped forward. Her hands were soft. Her eyes were wet. "The bangles."
Mica looked at her. "The bangles are from the ceremony."
Tita Gemma smiled. "These are different. These are from your grandmother. From her wedding. From her mother's wedding. From her mother's mother's wedding."
She took the bangles from the box. Gold. Old. Ancient. The bangles that had been worn by generations of women. The bangles that Mica would wear when she became Calix's wife.
She put them on Mica's wrists. Her hands were gentle. Her touch was light. Mica's face was focused. Her eyes were not.
"They're mathematically imperfect," Mica said.
Tita Gemma laughed. "They're perfect."
Jay stood in the center of the room. Her saree was pale gold. Her stomach was flat. The twins were moving. She looked at the brides. At her sisters. At the women who would be wives before the sun set.
"It's time," Jay said.
The women gathered at the door. The aisle was waiting. The mandap was waiting. The grooms were waiting. The family was waiting. The sun was high. The day was gold.
Lyra walked to the door. Her saree was white. Her hair was braided. Her mehendi was dark. Her hands were steady. Care walked beside her. Her saree was ivory. Her braid was long. Her earrings were gold. Her hands were steady.
Rakki walked behind them. Her saree was cream. Her hair was wild. Her necklace was bold. Her hands were steady.
Mica walked last. Her saree was off-white. Her hair was pinned. Her bangles were ancient. Her hands were steady.
Jay opened the door. The aisle was before them. The flowers were on the ground. The petals were crushed. The scent was sweet. The mandap was at the end. The priest was waiting. The family was seated. Percy was crying. Honey was holding him. Aries was crying. Ella was holding them. Keiran was bouncing. Keigan was watching. Kuya Angelo was steady. Ion was beside him. Tita Gemma was crying. Tita Rachel was holding her hand.
The grooms stood at the mandap. Alex in white. Cole in ivory. Ci N in cream. Calix in off-white. Their hands were steady. Their eyes were on the door. Their hearts were pounding.
The music began. The drums were loud. The shehnai was sweet. The air was thick with flowers and incense and love.
Lyra walked down the aisle. Her steps were slow. Her hands were steady. Her eyes were on Alex. He was the only thing she could see.
Alex stepped forward. His hand was out. His face was wet. His heart was pounding.
"You're here," Alex said.
Lyra took his hand. "I'm here."
He pulled her close. "You're beautiful."
She looked at him. "You're crying."
He laughed. "I'm happy."
She touched his face. "I'm happy too."
Care walked down the aisle. Her steps were slow. Her hands were steady. Her eyes were on Cole. He was the only thing she could see.
Cole stepped forward. His hand was out. His face was wet. His heart was pounding.
"You're here," Cole said.
Care took his hand. "I'm here."
He pulled her close. "You're beautiful."
She looked at him. "You're crying."
He laughed. "I'm happy."
She touched his face. "I'm happy too."
Rakki walked down the aisle. Her steps were slow. Her hands were steady. Her eyes were on Ci N. He was the only thing she could see.
Ci N stepped forward. His hand was out. His face was wet. His heart was pounding.
"You're here," Ci N said.
Rakki took his hand. "I'm here."
He pulled her close. "You're beautiful."
She looked at him. "You're crying."
He laughed. "I'm happy."
She touched his face. "I'm happy too."
Mica walked down the aisle. Her steps were slow. Her hands were steady. Her eyes were on Calix. He was the only thing she could see.
Calix stepped forward. His hand was out. His face was wet. His heart was pounding.
"You're here," Calix said.
Mica took his hand. "I'm here."
He pulled her close. "You're beautiful."
She looked at him. "You're crying."
He laughed. "I'm happy."
She touched his face. "I'm happy too."
The priest spoke. His voice was ancient. His words were soft. The fire was lit. The vows were made. The garlands were exchanged. The threads were tied. The hands were bound. The hearts were joined.
The sun was high. The day was gold. The brides were wives. The grooms were husbands. The family was new.
Percy was crying. Honey was holding him. Aries was crying. Ella was holding them. Keiran was bouncing. Keigan was watching. Kuya Angelo was steady. Ion was beside him. Tita Gemma was crying. Tita Rachel was holding her hand.
Jay stood at the edge of the aisle. Keifer was beside her. His hand was in hers. The twins were moving.
"You're crying," Keifer said.
Jay touched her face. "I'm not crying."
He pulled her close. "You're crying."
She laughed. "I'm happy."
He kissed her forehead. "I'm happy too."
The twins moved. Two small flutters. Two small lives. Two small hearts.
Keifer put his hand on her stomach. "They're awake."
Jay smiled. "They're always awake."
He looked at the mandap. At the brides in white. At the grooms in gold. At the family that had been broken. At the family that had healed. At the family that was new.
"They're here," Keifer said.
Jay looked at the mandap. At her sisters. At her brothers. At the life she had built. At the love she had found. At the future that was waiting.
"They're here," Jay said.
END OF CHAPTER NINETY-SIX