Page 54 of Semper

I sat on the ottoman, allowing Esther and the others to take charge as they began their work. Drita worked with precision, styling my hair in a way that felt both regal and haunting. It was pulled back into an intricate updo, with a few loose strands framing my face, delicate red roses woven in. Nanno focused on my makeup, her hands steady as she painted my face with careful strokes. The black lace gown that had been chosen for me hugged my body in all the right places, the delicate embroideryshimmering faintly under the light. I looked… ethereal. Almost otherworldly.

Esther smiled approvingly as she finished adjusting her own dress in the mirror, her fingers running through her hair to smooth it out. “You lookamazing, Lo.”

"Thank you," I murmured, still trying to process the transformation.

The other women exchanged glances before Esther turned to them, her expression softening.

“Go ahead and wait in the foyer. I’ll join you soon.”

Drita and Nanno nodded obediently, leaving the room without another word. The door clicked shut behind them, and for a moment, it was just me and Esther. She turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. “You’ll be heading to the Chapel soon,” she said, her voice quieter now, more serious. “I’ll see you there and will stay with you as much as possible, but... try to keep an open mind tonight, okay?”

An open mind.

I wasn’t sure how much of that I had left, but I nodded, knowing it was the answer she was looking for. Esther stepped forward, wrapping me in a warm, familiar hug.

She was always like this—touchy, affectionate, and full of life. It was easy to forget sometimes just how deeply woven into this world she was.

“Take a deep breath, okay? It’ll be over before you know it,” she whispered, pulling back slightly to give me an encouraging smile.

“I’ll try,” I replied, though the nerves were still gnawing at me and her vagueness wasn’t helping. There had to be a reason she was being so mute. Esther didn’t hold back any other time.

She squeezed my hand once more before stepping back. “Wait ten minutes, then head out. My brother will be waiting for you.”

I nodded again, and with one last smile, she left the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, I turned back to face the mirror, taking a better look at myself. My reflection stared back at me from multiple angles.

For a moment, I didn’t recognize the person standing there. She was eerie and beautiful all at once, like something from a dark fairy tale. The roses entwined in my hair added a touch of fragility, yet the deep red petals against the dark waves were reminiscent of blood—beauty mingled with something more dangerous.

My face was a different story altogether. The skull design painted over my features gave me the appearance of a spirit caught between two worlds. The haunting lines traced across my cheeks and around my lips made me look almost skeletal, yet somehow elegant. It was as if my face had been transformed into a mask, concealing who I truly was beneath it all. I tried to find the familiar features—my eyes, my lips—but they were hidden. All I saw was someone who belonged in this twisted world.

I stared into my own eyes, darkened with smoky shadows that made them appear larger, more intense. There was a sharpness to them, an edge that hadn’t been there before. I didn’t recognize that part of myself either. The girl I used to be, before all of this, was almost gone. She was buried under layers of ceremony, tradition, and expectations.

I tilted my head slightly, watching as the skull lines shifted with the movement. Was this truly who I was meant to be?Sponsa Diaboli.The bride of the devil himself. It was a title I still hadn’t fully grasped, even after all this time. The weight of it pressed down on me, and for a moment, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The longer I stared at my reflection, the more I felt like I was slipping into this new identity.

But I couldn’t, not as long as there was that part of me that resisted.

I took a deep breath, my hand instinctively brushing over the roses in my hair, grounding myself in the present. Eight minutes. Eight more minutes before everything changed again.

When I finally left the bathroom, I cursed under my breath, testing out the heels Esther had chosen for me. Why did it have to be heels? I never wore them, and now I had to somehow glide through the night without face-planting in front of the entire congregation.

Each step felt precarious, like walking on a tightrope, and I knew I’d need all the grace I could muster to survive this evening without embarrassing myself. My hands lightly brushed the soft fabric of my gown, the weight of everything I had seen in the mirror still lingering in my thoughts. I tried to shake it off, focusing on making it to the foyer without tripping over myself. As I approached the foyer, I slowed down instinctively, my heart skipping a beat as I caught sight of him.

Alexander.

He stood by the entrance, as still and imposing as a statue. His head turned upon hearing me approach and for a moment, neither of us moved. We just… stared at each other. The world around us seemed to blur, and all I could focus on was him—his presence, his aura, the sheer intensity of his gaze.

He was dressed in an all-black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, as if it had been crafted solely for this night.

It clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, the darkness of the fabric making him look both regal and dangerous. It wasn’t just the suit that caught my breath—it was his face. Painted just like mine, the same skull pattern etched over his features, but somehow, on him, it felt more sinister and powerful. The contrast between the sharp lines of the design and the smooth planes of his face made him look just as otherworldly, like a demon come to life.

His topaz eyes, bright and fierce, stood out even more against the paint, glowing like embers in the low light. They burned through me, intense and unyielding, and in that moment, I felt completely exposed. It was as though he could see right through the layers of makeup, right through the gown, and into the very core of who I was. And yet, I couldn’t look away.

He was gorgeous.

The word felt too small, too insignificant to describe the way he looked tonight.

There was something magnetic about him, something that drew me in, even when I wanted to run the other way. I swallowed hard as my eyes trailed over his form. There was a quiet authority to the way he stood, exuding confidence and control. He was a man who knew his power, and who knew how to wield it. He took a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving mine, and for a moment, the room felt too confining. The air between us crackled with tension, an unspoken pull that I couldn’t explain but also couldn’t ignore.

“Deliciae,” he murmured, his voice soft.