The morning of my would-be wedding, my stomach was a tangle of nerves and excitement as I prepared for my visit with Desmarc. I’d sent him a message to his aether chip last night asking if we could talk, but he’d never responded. If only I could Slip to the future and be done with it.
I went to my closet to pick out an outfit, comforting myself with the hope that Desmarc and Papá could still work together without me.
I ran a hand over the small metal rings on the bust of my wedding dress and sighed. “Not today,” I muttered to the dress before picking a different outfit. I put on a beautifully crafted brown leather corset adorned with brass detailing that laced up the front and hugged my frame perfectly. I paired the top with a flowing, high-waisted skirt in a rich burgundy. The soft, comfortable fabric easily covered the knives I had strapped to each leg. Just because I wouldn’t be wearing my dress today didn’t mean I shouldn’t look my best.
After securing my loose bun with Mamá’s burnished hairpin and throwing on a hat, I crept down the stairs. Not that it mattered since Papá was in the dining room sipping a mug of tea.
He didn’t look up as I passed in the hall. “You’re still going through with it?”
“Yes.” I took another step, then paused again. “This is my mess and I’ll take care of everything. Once I’ve spoken with Desmarc, I’ll let the guests know and cancel everything.”
I didn’t give him time to respond before escaping outside.
I walked north toward the Eleventh Chime, giving myself time to practice what I’d decided to say last night. “So, Desmarc, I know this is sudden and that we’re supposed to be getting married tonight, but I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I shook my head. That was idiotic. I couldn’t say it like that, no matter how good it had sounded in bed last night.
“I know it’s a little late, but I realized that an arranged marriage maybe isn’t ideal. Better late than never, though, right?”
Thank the aether no one was around to hear my pathetic attempts, which didn’t get better no matter how many ways I tried to word it. Half an hour later, I’d made it to the Eleventh Chime and turned toward Edison’s Aircrafts, where Desmarc was surely waiting.
All too soon I made it to a majestic building with soaring sandstone pillars supporting the front. A small metal aircraft no longer than my body rested above the door with the words Edison’s Aircraft engraved in curling gold script.
I climbed the steps and pushed my way through the front door. The inside was strangely spacious compared to how it appeared on the outside.
“Welcome!” A short man with a dark mustache and a top hat strode toward me on a large crimson carpet that extended the length of the room. “You must be Kyra Annandale.”
“I am.” I stepped forward, and my leather shoe sank into the plush rug.
“Right this way, right this way. Meridian Kingsford is waiting for you.” He led me past a long wooden desk covered with miniature displays of airships. A large world map covered the right wall, while round red doors covered the left side.
“Where is he?” I asked as we walked through one of the red doors and into a glass elevator. The metal gears whirred as the man pressed a button, then we began to rise. Beneath us, the town fell away until I was left with a dizzying view of the land surrounding the town. The Steele River twisted between rolling green hills and eventually met up with the sea that sparkled in the distance like molten silver. Trees with leaves just beginning to change color dotted the land, and, in the distance, a few airships floated through the sky.
“He’s already in the airship. He said he wanted to confirm a few things with the captain before tonight’s departure.” The man glanced at his pocket watch as we continued to rise, then he shot me a small grin. “You’re a little earlier than expected—must’ve been eager to see your fiancé.”
I flushed and stared out the window, even as I tried not to focus on how high we were going. Letting him assume that felt wrong considering what I’d come here to do, but telling him before Desmarc felt even worse. So I stayed quiet. The ride was much smoother than expected, and once I looked around and saw the blue line of energy powering the elevator, I knew why. It was aether powered instead of steam powered.
We’d risen high enough that looking down made my stomach drop to my toes, so instead I studied the airship.
Tilting my head back, I admired the graceful curves and scrollwork along its elongated body made from polished brass and copper. Large, porthole-like windows offered glimpses into the interior, and giant propellers were mounted on each side of the hull. The sails jutted out, the semitransparent fabric ready to capture the wind and lift the craft into the skies.
“Here we are,” the man said as the elevator clanked to a stop level with the aircraft.
I followed him down a narrow path. The bottom appeared to be made of steel, but the walls and ceiling curved around me like a glass dome, making it impossible to forget how high we were. Thankfully, the walk took less than a minute before the tunnel connected with an airship.
Gratefully, I stepped onto its solid wooden flooring, then gazed around to admire its beauty. The first words that came to mind were spacious and luxurious—essentially the perfect place for a wedding. Light fixtures hung every few feet from the walls, their bright glow glinting off the polished brass and copper lining the walls and the dark wood of the floor.
“What do you think?” Desmarc broke off his conversation with a tall, stocky man who must’ve been the captain.
“It’s beautiful,” I said as I walked over to him.
“We’ll give you two a moment,” the captain said before retreating to the perilous glass tunnel with my guide.
I tilted my head back and admired the carvings and etchings adorning the ceiling and the light fixtures crafted from antique glass and metal, trying to ignore my pounding heart or the way my palms grew sweaty in my gloves. “It really is perfect.”
“I can’t believe it’s tonight.” He glanced at me, only just then seeming to realize I was empty-handed. “Where’s your dress and suitcase?”
“I left them at home,” I said hesitantly, trying to push away the guilt eating at me.
“It’ll be hard for us to go on our honeymoon without your things,” he said with a smile.
“Desmarc, we need to talk.”
“Oh yes, I saw your message this morning. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I figured we could talk when we met.” He climbed to his feet, limping slightly as he took a step. “Let’s chat while I show you some of the other rooms. You’re going to love them.”
A shot of alarm went through me. “Are you all right?”
“As embarrassing as it is to admit this, I twisted my ankle this morning.”
“Should we take you to a doctor?”
“No, it’s nothing that serious.” He started down the hall without me.
I followed him down a narrow hall and into a small room, which gas lamps filled with a warm glow. Bookshelves and cabinets filled with curiosities and artifacts lined three of the four walls, which curved gently to match the contours of the ship’s hull.
Nestled among the bookshelves stood a compact writing desk, its surface covered in a layer of dark leather. Brass gears and cogs adorned its edges, blending seamlessly with the metal frame. An ornate quill pen and a stack of parchment rested beside an inkwell. On the other side of the desk sat a plush armchair upholstered in rich velvet.
“Cozy, right?” He reached for my hand. “It’ll be perfect for the honeymoon.”
“Desmarc, I need to talk to you.” I bit my lip and stepped out of reach.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t marry you.” The words came out a guilty whisper. Not exactly smooth but not the worst of my attempts.