Back in my room, I pulled my wedding dress from the armoire. Despite its beauty, I couldn’t help but grimace as I ran a hand over the tiny metal links across the bust. It represented the foolish, naive girl I’d been when I’d been willing to run away from my problems. There was no running anymore, though, not with Hiram’s life on the line.
With shaking hands, I took off my bloodied clothes and pulled the dress on. What could I do to get us out of this? I couldn’t walk to my wedding like a broken server bot to the disassembly line. Even if I married Desmarc, it would only delay the inevitable.
A knock sounded on the door, and I stiffened.
“Can I come in?”
Some of the tension in my shoulders disappeared as I recognized Geneve’s voice. I opened the door, and she walked inside in a glimmer of emerald fabric.
Her smile morphed to a look of concern, and her eyebrows furrowed over her dark eyes. “Is everything all right?” She lightly brushed a finger where a bruise must’ve been forming.
“I need your help,” I said hurriedly.
“Help with what?” she asked as a woman I didn’t recognize walked in behind her.
I bit my lip. There was no way to know if she was working with Desmarc but my gut told me she was. My heart stuttered as I remembered Hiram at that man’s mercy.
“Kyra?” Geneve didn’t seem to pay the woman a second thought as she started tidying the room.
“Oh, um, with my corset.” I lifted my hair off my back and turned away from Geneve, blinking back tears of disappointment.
She got to work doing up the corset with her deft, skillful fingers. “What happened to your face?”
“Oh, I fell,” I mumbled.
“That’s not a good sign.” Geneve tightened the leather corset, making sure not to break any of the delicate metal rings attached to it. “And neither is this weather. Where did the clear skies go?”
I glanced toward the window to find the once serene sky was now a maelstrom of swirling vapors and turbulent currents. Outside the window, deep-gray clouds twisted with an ominous energy. “I don’t know,” I murmured.
“So much for weather predictions,” Geneve said. “These things rarely go as we expect, but I suppose it can’t be helped now.” After a moment of silence, Geneve asked, “Are you excited?”
“More like nervous.” With another glance at the other woman, I thought of Hiram and resisted the urge to tell her anything else. Instead, I looked at my skirt to hide my expression and ran a hand down the elaborate clockwork mechanisms intertwined with the gauzy fabric.
“That’s all right. It’s normal to be nervous on your wedding day.” Geneve slipped the veil into my hair. The lacework was woven into a beautiful floral pattern with metal adornments.
“Here. I made these for you as a wedding gift.” She handed me a pair of gloves whose intricate lace detailing matched the aesthetics of the dress perfectly. “I didn’t think you should wear the ones you’re always using on a special day like today.”
“Oh Geneve, they’re beautiful.” I hesitated slightly before pulling off my old gloves and accepting them. Thankfully, no blue spark appeared, so I pulled them on.
“I’m so proud of you.” She pulled me into a hug. “You’ve really grown up.”
“Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around her, trying to blink back tears. I’d just pretend she was proud of me for being brave. If she knew what I was going through, that was definitely what she’d be complimenting me on. Because the idea of marrying Desmarc terrified me, and only the thought of Hiram kept my feet in place.
Outside, the wind howled, as if sharing my concerns. Its voice rose and fell in a symphony of power as it buffeted the airship, making the craft sway and groan as if the storm was trying to verbalize the protest that I couldn’t. The brass and metal from the rigging hit the hull in a series of metallic clanks, and my pulse sped up. I tried to calm myself with a few deep breaths and force away thoughts about how high we were and how easy it would be for the ship to crash and kill us all.
“Looks like we’re going to be in for a rough one.” Geneve pulled away, and the material of my dress snagged her sleeve, ripping the fabric.
“I’m sorry.”
“I can fix this in no time.” She pursed her lips and studied my dress. “But part of your dress is damaged. That won’t do at all.” She fiddled with the material, trying to work the metal so it didn’t protrude. She pulled a small sewing kit from her leather, corset-style belt.
“Actually, I’ll handle that.” I looked at the sharp piece of metal. It was no knife, but maybe I could fashion a makeshift weapon from my dress. “Could I borrow your sewing kit?”
“What would people say if I let the bride handle something like this on her wedding day?” She tsked and shook her head.
“Please, Geneve. It’ll be good for me.” I grabbed her hands and gave her a pleading look. “It’ll help keep me busy, so I don’t feel so nervous before the ceremony.”
She sighed and passed me her travel kit. “All right. I’ll go find the woman in charge of your makeup. She should’ve been here already.”
“Thank you.” I gripped the sewing kit tightly in my hands and looked at the other woman. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then curtsied and wordlessly followed Geneve into the hall. As soon as the door shut behind them, I set to work with the seam ripper. There wasn’t time to sew in a secret pocket. The best I could do was try to loosen one of the pieces of metal around my waist. Maybe there would be no chance to use it, but at least I wouldn’t go into this wedding with only tiny sewing scissors for protection.
I sliced off the loose loop that had come partially unwound from the corset and hid it inside one of my gloves. Now it resembled a nail with a curled end, though it was only two inches in length. Once that was done, I studied the waist of my dress where the leather and metal met the feathers and lace.
Voices came from outside the door, and I worked faster.
I cut off one of the glass pieces that rested just below my waist, leaving a bald spot in the design. Its edges had been smoothed, which was the opposite of what I needed. I gripped the top and bottom half of the glass and smashed it against the edge of the desk. Thankfully, it cracked cleanly in two.
I pulled off a glove and lightly ran a finger over the jagged edge. A thin cut appeared on my finger, and a tiny drop of blood welled up.
It would have to do.