Chapter 165: of flowers, other arrangements, and a letter

Chapter 165: Chapter 165: of flowers, other arrangements, and a letter

The week that followed passed quickly.

Much more quickly than Marian would have liked.

Once the reception venue had been secured, the wedding seemed to acquire a life of its own.

There was suddenly something to arrange everywhere she looked.

The invitations had been handed over to the secretaries of both houses, who were now compiling the final guest lists and preparing the formal copies.

The wording had been settled.

The ceremony and reception arrangements had been communicated to the cathedral.

The first bann had already been announced.

And the dress—

Marian had finally chosen it.

Or, more accurately, she had chosen enough of it for the dressmakers to begin.

The final design had taken several appointments, countless pieces of fabric, more sketches than she cared to count, and one particularly long discussion about the exact shade of white.

In the end, she had settled on pearl ivory silk, softened with delicate lace and hand embroidery. The bodice would be fitted without being severe, the skirt full without becoming cumbersome, and the train long enough to make an impression without requiring an army of attendants simply to carry it.

Cassian had approved of everything.

Naturally.

He had also made it very clear that if she changed her mind three times before the final fitting, he would simply pay for three different versions.

Marian had told him that was precisely why she had stopped letting him speak whenever the dressmakers mentioned prices.

The attendants’ attire had taken nearly as much consideration.

The fabrics had finally been selected, the colors coordinated, and measurements had been sent to the appropriate tailors. Her father had been consulted about her place of honor among the family members, and the rest of the wedding party was being arranged between the two households.

For the first time, the wedding no longer existed merely on paper.

It was becoming tangible.

And that morning, Marian sat across from Cassian at the florist’s private showroom, surrounded by flowers.

She looked around slowly.

Roses.

Peonies.

Lilies.

Delicate autumn blooms.

Branches of greenery.

Baskets of flowers arranged in combinations that made it difficult to imagine that all of them could possibly belong in one wedding.

Cassian looked around as well.

He had become very good at looking interested.

Marian noticed.

"You don’t have to pretend."

"I am not pretending."

"You have been staring at the same arrangement for almost a minute."

"I was considering it."

"What did you decide?"

"That there are many flowers."

She laughed.

"Excellent observation."

The florist smiled politely.

"We can narrow the selection considerably, My Lady."

"Please."

Marian turned toward the arrangements again.

"October changes things."

"It does."

"I don’t want anything that feels too much like a summer garden."

The florist nodded.

"Then we should work with the season rather than against it."

"Exactly."

Marian moved toward another display.

There were softer autumn tones here.

Cream.

Ivory.

Muted greens.

Touches of deeper color.

She considered them carefully.

"I want the cathedral to feel elegant."

Cassian glanced at her.

"And the reception?"

"Warm."

She paused.

"Not dark. Just warmer."

He nodded.

"I like that."

Marian looked at him.

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it sounds like what you would choose."

She smiled.

The florist brought out several sample arrangements.

Marian studied each one.

She wasn’t looking for something merely impressive.

She wanted something that would work with the cathedral, with the dress, with the reception hall, and with the gardens outside.

Something that would still look beautiful when the sun began to disappear in the afternoon.

Something that would not overwhelm the room.

She picked up a sample of ivory roses.

"These."

Cassian looked at them.

"Those?"

"Perhaps."

She placed them beside another arrangement.

"And these."

The florist began taking notes.

"What about the aisle?"

Marian looked toward Cassian.

"The aisle?"

"Flowers along the aisle."

He smiled.

"Whatever you want."

Marian gave him a look.

"You are not allowed to answer everything with that."

"I thought you liked my answers."

"I like some of them."

He laughed.

The florist continued.

"And for the reception?"

Marian turned toward the sketches spread across the table.

She had already seen the plans for the venue several times, but now she was looking at them differently.

The ballroom.

The dining tables.

The entrance.

The terrace.

The conservatory-like windows along one side of the hall.

She could picture the room filled with people.

Music.

Candles.

Flowers.

Her family.

His family.

Her first dance with her father.

And then—

Cassian.

She smiled without realizing it.

He noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’ve been saying that a lot."

Marian looked down at the plans.

"I was imagining it."

"Imagine what?"

"The reception."

His expression softened.

"So was I."

The florist quietly returned to her notes.

Marian pointed toward the central tables.

"I don’t want the arrangements to be so tall that people can’t see one another."

"Low centerpieces?"

"Yes."

"But something larger around the room."

Cassian nodded.

"That would work."

"And perhaps flowers around the entrance."

"Yes."

"And the terrace."

"Of course."

Marian looked at him.

"You really do agree with everything."

"I told you. I want it to be beautiful."

She smiled.

"Not just beautiful."

"No?"

"I want it to feel like us."

Cassian’s expression softened.

"Then it will."

Marian was about to answer when a discreet knock came from the doorway.

One of Cassian’s secretaries stood there.

"Your Grace."

Cassian turned.

"Yes?"

The secretary approached and handed him a sealed envelope.

"There is correspondence from Ashford."

Something in the man’s tone made Cassian’s expression change.

Only slightly.

But Marian noticed.

He looked at the seal.

The Ashford crest.

Then at the date.

He opened it.

Marian watched his eyes move across the page.

She didn’t interrupt.

After a few moments, Cassian folded the letter.

"Everything all right?"

He looked at her.

"Yes."

The answer was immediate.

But not quite convincing.

Marian knew him well enough by now to recognize the difference.

"What is it?"

Cassian glanced toward his secretary.

"Leave us."

The secretary bowed and withdrew.

Marian waited.

Cassian looked at the letter again.

"It’s from the northern administration."

Her expression changed.

"Is there a problem?"

"Nothing serious."

"Then why do you look like that?"

He sighed.

"There have been reports of disruptions along several northern routes."

Marian’s eyes narrowed.

"Bandits?"

"Apparently."

"Apparently?"

"They’ve been treated as isolated incidents."

"But?"

Cassian looked at the letter.

"The reports are becoming more frequent."

Marian studied him.

"What do they want from you?"

"They’ve requested that I review the situation."

She was quiet for a moment.

Then glanced at the flowers spread across the table.

"We’re choosing flowers."

"I know."

"And they’re asking you to deal with bandits."

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"A review."

She gave him a skeptical look.

"That sounds suspiciously like the beginning of something more complicated."

Cassian smiled faintly.

"Perhaps."

Marian leaned back.

"Do you have to go?"

"No."

The answer came quickly.

"Not yet."

She relaxed slightly.

"Good."

Cassian looked at her.

"I’ll have my secretary respond."

Marian nodded.

"Of course."

The florist, who had been waiting discreetly at the other end of the room, approached again.

"My Lady?"

Marian turned.

"Yes?"

"We were discussing the arrangements for the reception."

Marian smiled.

"Of course."

She looked at Cassian.

He had folded the letter and placed it beside him.

For the moment, it could wait.

And Marian was determined that it would.

She turned back to the flowers.

"Now, where were we?"

The florist smiled.

"The centerpieces."

"Right."

Marian leaned over the sketches again.

"Let’s see those."

Cassian watched her for a moment.

Then quietly reached for another flower sample.

"This one."

Marian looked at him.

"You like that?"

"Yes."

She examined it.

Then smiled.

"All right."

She added it to the selection.

The letter remained unopened in the sense that its contents had already been read, but for the next hour neither of them spoke of it again.

There was still a wedding to plan.

And for now, that was what mattered.

--

By the time they left the florist, the arrangements had been narrowed down considerably.

The cathedral would be softer and more formal.

The reception would be warmer.

The flowers would carry through the ballroom and onto the terrace.

Nothing had been finalized completely, but the direction was clear.

Marian climbed into the carriage beside Cassian and looked at her notebook.

"Flowers."

She drew a line beneath the word.

"Done for today."

Cassian nodded.

"And tomorrow?"

"Food."

He smiled.

"You’re enjoying this."

She looked at him.

"I am."

Then she leaned back against the seat.

"I didn’t think I would."

"Why?"

"Because there is so much."

She glanced at the growing list.

"But somehow, now that we’re actually doing it..."

She smiled.

"It feels real."

Cassian reached for her hand.

"It is real."

Marian squeezed his fingers.

For a few moments, they simply sat together.

Then she remembered the letter.

Her smile faded slightly.

"Cassian."

He looked at her.

"Yes?"

"That letter."

"I know."

"You said it wasn’t serious."

"It isn’t."

"But you don’t look convinced."

He was quiet.

"Neither am I."

Marian studied him.

"Then why did you say it?"

"Because I don’t want you worrying."

She sighed.

"You know that’s impossible now."

"I know."

He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"I’ll deal with it."

She looked at him.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Marian nodded.

She believed him.

Or at least, she wanted to.

Then the carriage continued through the capital, carrying them toward the next appointment, the next decision, and the wedding that was now less than two months away.

--

Tbc