40. Wedding

Ginevra

I look pretty.

But I can't stop sobbing.

I think of Astrid and I wonder how she's faring. How long she'll be unconscious for. Possibly through the entire wedding.

It doesn't matter though. When I refused to get dressed this morning, Alaric came into my room with a threat.

Ithaca, was it? Do not forget that all that's needed to have your human friend and her family killed is a message from me.

Those words were more than enough to compel me into the bath tub and into this dress that hangs loosely on me. I've lost a considerable amount of weight in the past couple of days; it's a wonder the dress even stays up at all.

My father's fingers dig into my arm as we we approach the grand entrance of the hall. "Smile, Ginevra. This isn't a funeral."

I turned to him, my voice trembling. "It might as well be, Father." I pause, unable to stop the tears that well up. "Why do you hate me so?"

He stiffens, eyes turning cold. "Stop talking nonsense. I don't hate you."

"Is it because I look