Chapter 64

Theodore

I closed the door behind me, shaking my head at the absurdity of the situation, and searched for a bathroom with a shower. I was directed to the neighboring room.

It was nice being able to feel Violet through the door. I showered quickly and stepped to find Tyron outside, looking as if he'd gotten more coffee in his system than sleep and was more pissed off than tired.

"I just got into this tux', if I have to fight more people, let me change."

Tyron gave me a wry smile. "It'll be more photogenic if you're in a different tux'. The reporters will love it."

I narrowed my eyes. "What's going on?"

Violet

I got out of the shower to find Lily and Helena there, waiting for me like I was back in the bridal suite all over again. I let Helena curl my hair again. Lily put on enough make up to hide the redness of whatever wounds were still healing, and she pulled out another veil of delicate lace.

"I still can't believe I’m letting this happen."

"Enjoy your husband's theatrics," Helena said, setting another curl. "It's clearly his love language."

She smiled at me. "Though you aren't complaining nearly as much as I thought you would."

I shrugged. "We talked…"

She tapped my forehead. "It's hard to overlook such obvious proof."

"Yeah," Lily said. "It's like the Goddess knew how stubborn you are."

I rolled my eyes as Lily set the veil in my hair. Then, the door opened with Helena's daughter coming in , still in her flower girl dress, carrying another bouquet of fresh flowers.

My heart melted as she held them up to me.

"Mommy says that brides should have flowers."

I chuckled and thanked her, accepting the flowers and a hug in the process.

Lily lifted the veil over my head so it hung over my newly set curls and beamed.

"Your mother… would love this."

My eyes burned, and I nodded. "I agree."

"Final touch?" Lily said offering the box where my token was.

I pulled it out, feeling it pulse in my hand. I smiled and slipped it around my neck.

A knock sounded on the door and Kincaid leaned in, grinning at me.

“I’ll finish things up with the hospital. The Midnight forces are going to take your clothes for evidence."

I nodded and looked down at the dress. This dress was just as much of a perfect fit as the other one. It was looser and less restrictive than the first dress, and I was grateful for that as my ribs still ached a little bit. I smoothed down the skirt.

“I have to admit,” I said as I looked at my reflection in the small mirror they’d brought, “this is... nice.”

Lily beamed. “See? Indulge in the theatrics a little more."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I think I've had enough theatrics for a lifetime, thanks."

Her eyes softened. “You alright?”

I nodded, pulling myself together. “Yeah. Of course. Just ready to leave.”

She narrowed her eyes. "Say the word and we'll make him disappear."

I snorted. "Please don't."

"We wouldn't want to deprive her husband of the pleasure," Kincaid said. "Speaking of, I believe the man in question is waiting down the hall for you."

I nodded and headed out. It took no time to spot him.

Theodore was leaning against the wall just a few feet away from my room when I emerged, looking far too composed for someone who was contemplating murder all night, and was likely still irritated as hell. I hummed, regarding him. His tuxedo was flawlessly tailored as the one before it had, but I think this one suited him more. There was something about the cut that gave him a regal but nonchalant air.

I supposed they did us both justice, as this dress was far more my style -- elegant, non-restrictive -- than the one before it was. He glanced up and gave me a once-over, his gaze lingering in approval.

“Somehow… I like this dress on you more than the other one."

I scoffed. "You picked the other one out."

"I know…" he said. His gaze soft. "It's weird… Ready to escape?"

“Yes,” I groaned, adjusting the veil Lily had insisted I wear. “Let’s get out of here before they decide to change their mind?"

He smirked and straightened, offering me his arm with a gallant little bow. "Wife."

My heart jolted. I slipped my arm into his. "Husband."

His eyes flashed and he looked far too pleased, walking with me down the hall. He'd shortened his gait to allow me to walk comfortably, and I was incredibly grateful to be wearing almost flat shoes.

falling into step beside me as we headed down the hallway.

“Owen’s been waiting for us for five hours, by the way.”

I blinked, caught between surprise and amusement. “Five hours? Seriously?”

Theodore shrugged, his tone entirely too casual. “He wanted to talk. Tyron told him he'd have to wait."

I laughed, the sound startling even me. “And he just... sat there?”

“Not exactly. He's at a restaurant nearby as I made it clear that we weren't coming to the palace." He smiled thinly. "A new and injured bride needs her rest."

"You think he's upset?"

"Pacing, probably.” He shot me a sly look. “You've never seen him in a brooding and petulant mood. It's a show."

The mental image of Owen sulking like a scolded child was almost too much, and I bit back another laugh.

“I vaguely remember him coming last night,” I admitted. “But it’s all a bit hazy. Did that happen?”

"It did."

I frowned at Theodore’s dark tone and considered asking, but shrugged it off. Owen was his brother. I'm sure he just came to be irritating in one way or another. We exited the hospital, the cool air hitting me like a splash of water. The fresh scent of late morning and the faint hum of the city were grounding and familiar. We weren't in Darkmoon, but the capital had a similar level of development.

“It’s just a short walk to the restaurant,” Theodore said. "Feel free to say you can't make it."

I chuckled. "I can make it."

Then, the flash of a camera caught my eye. With an exasperated sigh, I turned.

"That your doing?"

"Nope… Probably Dahlia or Kincaid. It's good publicity."

"A mentor once told me there's no such thing as bad publicity."

"He's brilliant."

"She."

Reporters called out questions we ignored. Midnight's forces were lining the sidewalk to keep them and anyone who looked too interested in us at bay.

Theodore leaned closer. “Smile, or they’ll think you’re angry with me.”

I scoffed. "Or they'll think I'm angry at them? In pain?"

"For the sake of the pictures then."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but smile at him. "You're ridiculous."

As we approached the restaurant, Theodore slowed his pace, turning to me with that familiar, roguish glint in his eye.

“Before we go in,” he murmured, “there’s something I need to do.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What could possibly—”

Before I could finish, he leaned down and captured my lips in a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding, just a soft, lingering touch that shot electric sparks through me.

When he pulled back, his lips curved into a faint smile. “I really needed that…"

I shook my head, and noted that he seemed a bit warmer than before. "You're burning up."

"Happens," he said. "All the time, actually… especially when I'm near you."

That poked at some memory I didn't remember, but then we were turning and he opened the door for me.

The restaurant was quieter than I expected, the murmur of conversation barely audible over the soft clink of silverware. Owen was seated at a corner table, his posture unusually stiff. It was interesting that he hadn't cleared out the floor, but he had cleared out a few tables around him. He was staring out the window, fingers drumming against the edge of his glass and in different clothes than the night before.

Theodore greeted the host with a nod and led me to the table. As we approached, I couldn’t shake the strange unease settling over me. Something about Owen felt... off. His energy, his demeanor—it was wrong. Haughty and scheming in a way that screamed danger, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was.

“Owen,” Theodore said as we reached the table.

He looked up sharply, as if pulled from deep thought. His gaze flicked between us, lingering for a moment too long on Theodore.

“It's been five hours."

"It could have been five weeks," Theodore said lightly, pulling out a chair for me. I sank into the seat and Theodore sat beside me. The waiter came to pour us water.

Owen didn’t respond to the jab. Instead, he folded his hands on the table and smirked as if he'd won the game before it had even started.

“I’ve come to a decision about Shelter."