Chapter Thirty : Let the Bells Ring
Corinne
"I just don't understand why everything is so secretive."
My mother ranted, expressing her opinion for the umpteenth time.
"Because that's what Dimitri wants, Mother."
We had had the same conversion in continuation for the last few days. Each time my mother argued that all of her people should be welcome at the various ceremonies, and each time I had to patiently explain to her why such a thing was impossible. Although, that patience was bordering the line of rice-paper thin.
"We need to start getting the bride ready." Brenna swept in and gave my mother a pointed look. Apparently I wasn't the only one who was exhausted by my mother's constant badgering and incessant need for control.
"Fine." My mother sighed dramatically. "But we will be sharing the photographs with the necessary people."
"Of course." Even I could see how tight Brenna's smile was as she answered Emily Rand, and I wondered what truly made Brenna crack.
My father had flown in a few days ago, waxing lyrically about how he's assisting his new son-in-law with his newest diamond distribution company, the latest jewel in the crown that was Dimitri's business.
At this point, I was certain that whoever Dimitri suggested, my father would support.
Brenna and Marie tugged me towards the poolhouse, where the make-shift makeup and hair station had been set-up, much to my mother's chagrin.
My dress for the first ceremony was red, as was customary for Russian brides. My hands shook as I slid into the sleek lace panels that made up a sweetheart neckline, the wide silk skirt that accompanied it seemed to cascade down in waves. I felt far more appropriately dressed for Valentine's day than my wedding, but then I was still learning about the old country's traditions and beliefs.
I kept my hair in gentle curls, framing my face in a way that made me appear far more innocent than my current reality reflected.
Today was the civil ceremony, followed by refreshments. But I was far more enthralled with the notion that Dimitri and I would be sharing a room - a bed - once more. For the last three nights we had been separated, in an attempt to maintain the traditions. Of course, Dimitri still slid into the room in the darkness of the night, sliding in and out of me with a fever that spoke of longing and pure need. But come morning, when the light of day cracked through the windows, his side of the bed remained empty and cold, leaving me in a foul mood that could only be quelled by Dimitri himself. But tonight, all of that changed, for the completion of the civil ceremony meant that we were legally - and traditionally - expected to share a bed and consummate the marriage.
It was for that reason that I had slid my sheer stocking and garter belt beneath my dress, in utter anticipation of Dimitri peeling the layers beneath off of my flesh.
Brenna, Marie, Emily Rand, and my fellow Witches ushered me out the door in a bevy of excitement and joy. Yet, with each impending step I took, the fluttering in my stomach became a chorus unto itself, looping and dipping the closer I came to Dimitri.
In place of the black Cadillac, sat a large dark limousine, and I knew that it had been the only choice we could make when transporting the amount of people we needed for the day.
By the time we arrived at the Zapis Aktov Grazhdanskogo Sostoyaniya - an office within the French Quarter that conducted civil ceremonies whilst simultaneously lodging the marriage in Russia so that the union was recognised both in the United States and the Old Country - the presiding officer was already stationed outside, one foot on the sidewalk, one foot in the street, as he waited for our arrival.
I watched the energy shift inside the building as the six Witches walked inside, along with Emily Rand. It was as if the very air itself became static in our presence, but I only gave the shift a heartbeat's worth of attention before we entered a large room that resembled a small court house. Despite the size and magnificence of the room, it was Dimitri that seemed to hold everyone's attention as he stood near the front, awaiting my arrival.
It took the murmuring of my fellow Witches to cause me to tear my gaze from Dimitri and take in the figure sitting in the front row.
Charl sat there, casual and aloof, and some small part of me thawed at the sight of him - at the very fact that he had come.
My father sat in the row opposite him, and I felt my mother part from our group and seat herself next to her husband, as custom dictated. Slowly, one by one, the Witches filled the bench that Charl was seated in, until Brenna was the last one beside me, giving my shoulder a small squeeze of encouragement before, finally, it was only Dimitri and myself.
The ceremony was quick, with the presiding officer uttering the words that needed to be uttered. And then Dimitri was there, both palms clutching my cheeks as he tilted my face towards his, letting his lips crash into mine, pulsing with desire, need, and something more.
The entire courtroom cheered, with Charl in the lead with enthusiastic clapping as if this was the outcome he had wanted all along.
As I turned in Dimitri's arms to scan the room, a dark ripple in the back caught my eye, and for a heartbeat, I could have sworn I saw the Demon I had met in London only a couple of months earlier.
The day was a blur of movement and activity, from the moment we exited the building as a legally wedded couple. Shouts from the street poured in as a mixture of confetti and strings of beads were thrown at us, because no matter how Russian the ceremonies seemed, we were still in New Orleans.
Shouts of "Gorko" echoed throughout the street, as hoards of Dimitri's people unfurled themselves from the multitude of hiding places they owned. Many of them I had not met, but that did not stop Dimitri's lips from seeking mine in an attempt to silence each cry. His tongue danced with mine to the point that it became difficult to remember that we were in a public street, kissing each other in an attempt to prove how sweet our marriage was in opposition to their shouts of bitter - Gorko in English.
We walked the two blocks it took to arrive at the same building that housed the gardens, and as expected, Zoey stood quietly, whispering words of encouragement to each plant, as if the greenery itself held all the answers of the universe.
This was the first celebration in a series of celebrations, and when Dimitri's hand slid around the small of my back as he tugged me closer towards him, I pressed a hand against his chest and allowed him to waltz us across the dance floor.