Hand Fasted 

Mildred’s first year as librarian passed like a recurring dream. She shelved books, taught reading classes to the maids, helped Stella with hand fasting preparations, discussed political history with Evelyn over tea, and enjoyed the sweetness of living life with her best friends again. The harrowing memory of Mother’s unexpected death faded, losing its grip on her heart. She thrived in the organized structure of the library, wrote Jorden weekly letters, and shared debates over dinner with Marten every night.

“Perfect,” she said to herself one bright afternoon after winter had faded. “It’s a perfect spring day.”

She stopped walking in the middle of the James’ dirt driveway and pulled in a long, sweet draught of cherry-blossom tinged air. The afternoon sun warmed her face, washing away the cold, drafty days of her first winter cooped up in the chilly stone halls of Chatham Castle. A soft spring breeze drifted by, releasing blooms from the trees in a waterfall of petals. It felt wonderful to step away from the library for a while.

“Isn’t this a beautiful day for a hand fasting ceremony?” she asked Marten. He walked quietly at her side, as if they were taking their weekly stroll through the gardens at Chatham.

“Yes,” he said, glancing at the pockets of white-blossomed cherry trees surrounding the James’ imposing estate. “It feels wonderful to be in the sun again.”

Mildred fell back into a comfortable silence, grateful that she could just be with Marten and not feel as if she had to entertain him with small talk.

They approached a red brick mansion ringed by cherry orchards on the left and apple orchards on the right. Trees surrounded the estate in an endless skirt of blossoms and perfume. Freshly scrubbed windows sparkled in the late sunshine, and tables laden with food stretched across the open lawn.

“I used to sleep over here in the summer when I had a break from Miss Jane’s. It was a lovely time,” Mildred said with a fond smile, waving to Agatha, Stella’s plump, bright-eyed mother. “Thank you for coming with me, Marten. I loathe meeting new people. At least now I have someone with whom to sit and won’t have to avoid small talk with strangers.”

He laughed. “The more I learn about you, the more miraculous I consider our friendship to be. I love meeting new people.”

She sent him a sidelong glance. “Very odd.”

Marten laughed again. “Dale and I have known each other since he joined the Guardians, so it was my pleasure to come. Oh, how strange. I never expected to see him here.”

Marten had paused mid-step, facing the opposite side of the yard. A tall pole pierced the sky, decorated on top with ribbons fluttering in a gentle breeze.

“Who?” Mildred asked, trying to follow his gaze.

“Council Member Grant is here. He’s standing by Evelyn.” Marten motioned toward them with a jerk of his head. “He doesn’t seem as if he’s enjoying himself, does he? Evelyn must have brought him. I can’t imagine why else he’d be here.”

“He’s her beau of sorts,” Mildred said. “Neither of them will admit it—I think because they both want to flirt with whomever they want—but Evie spends a lot of time with him.”

“Grant, a beau?” Marten’s face wrinkled. “I doubt it. I can’t imagine he’d ever like anyone more than he liked himself.”

“Sounds like he’d be perfect for Evelyn.”

“Speaking of your friend, there she is now.”

He gestured to a group of girls surrounding Evelyn’s perfectly coiffed red hair. Her old school chums. Mildred recognized a few of the faces and felt no desire to interfere. She hadn’t been overly fond of the girls from Miss Mabel’s School for Girls whenever she had visited and veered away from them now, doubly grateful for Marten’s company.

Grant stood a few steps away from Evelyn and her crowd. A cheroot dangled from his lips, which he removed only to take a sip of wine. The young women spoke in near shouts, each competing to be heard over the others as they debated the way the ribbons should weave around the pole.

“I haven’t officially met Grant yet,” Mildred admitted. “Evelyn doesn’t really bring him around. It’s like she wants to keep us separate from him or something. Nor do I see him around the castle because, well, I don’t really get out much.”

“You aren’t missing anything,” Marten said under his breath. “He’s run the Bickers Mill Covens for a few years. He met Donovan while at the tailor’s, and so enchanted the High Priest with his droll wit and penchant for expensive attire that Donovan hired him as Council Member the moment the next slot became available.”

“You’re joking, right?” Mildred asked, her tone dry, mouth curled in disgust. Marten shook his head, his lips pursed in a way that suggested he wished he was.

“Dolph and I have worked with Grant on a few issues in his Covens. He’s amiable enough and certainly has the good looks to back up his sociability, but he cares nothing for business. He delegates most of his job to other witches.”

A pasted smile slipped across Marten’s face when Grant hailed him, striding over on long, sure legs. Grant appeared to be a brash, thirty-something witch who smelled of tobacco leaves. His chiseled, fresh-shaven jaw gave him a handsome, if sardonic, expression that left Mildred annoyed.

Yes, he’d be perfect for Evelyn.

“Grant,” Marten said jovially, taking his forearm. Despite herself, Mildred was impressed with Marten’s display; she could never act so pleased to see someone so unexpected. It took all her energy some days just to visit Stella and Evelyn. “It’s good to see a fellow male witch here.”

Grant laughed and dropped his cheroot to the grass, where he ground it in with his heel. “Yes. You and I will let all the ladies simper and giggle for a while so they can get it out of their systems. The good gods know Evelyn loves the attention. Enough about them! What do you think of this new jacket? Is it all right for a hand fasting ceremony?”

Marten’s polite expression didn’t change. “Looks very nice.”

Grant adjusted the sleeves. “I found a witch in Ashleigh that charges exorbitant rates but makes me look like a god, so it’s worth it.”

A rustle in the grass just behind Mildred shifted her attention from Grant’s less-than-fascinating conversation to the sensation that someone stood just behind her. No one could be seen.

“Milly,” Stella’s hushed voice implored softly in her left ear. “Come speak with me, won’t you? Just on the side of the house? I’m so nervous . . . I don’t want to face anyone else yet.”

Marten’s eyes flickered their direction as Mildred picked up her skirt, nodded to both him and Grant—who hadn’t stopped talking about his new coat—and made her way to the side of the house. The sun sank closer to the spiny trees, casting long shadows on the grass. Once the sounds of the party were well behind them, Stella materialized next to Mildred.

“Oh, Stella,” Mildred said, holding her at arm’s distance. “You look truly stunning.”

Stella beamed and took Mildred’s hands.

“Do you like it?”

The gold stitching on Stella’s layered ivory gown glimmered in the fading sunshine. Gently curling strands of blonde hair fell onto her shoulders, every piece looking as purposeful and perfect as if it had been set there individually.

“Your eyes have never been so blue nor so happy. I’m very excited for you!”

“Oh, Mildred, I’m a jumble of nerves!” she said, laughing. “We almost didn’t get the dress finished in time. Wouldn’t that have been the worst?”

“What are you so nervous about?” Mildred asked. “It’s only Dale and your best friends here. He already knows your faults.”

“What if I say the wrong thing?” she cried, but giggled when Mildred rolled her eyes. “Or what if I trip and fall off the platform?”

“Dale will catch you,” Mildred quipped. “He’s still very young and spry.”

“Were you and Marten able to move everything into our new apartment in downtown Chatham?”

“Yes. Evelyn and I moved all of your things. Marten and a few other Guardians moved Dale’s. I swept it and cleaned it up a bit to make sure it was tidy when you came home. Evelyn was going to get you some groceries, but she forgot.”

Stella smiled. “Sounds just like her. Thank you, Milly. It won’t be so hard getting married and moving away from the castle again knowing I shall still see you whenever I want. And you can transport to my apartment any time you need it.”

“Of course, Stella. This is good change, not bad change. None of us have any reason to fear.”

“I knew you’d make me feel better. You always do. Oh, thank you for coming, Mildred. I couldn’t have gone through it without you.”

“Don’t be daft,” Mildred said, though she felt a pang of envy deep in her heart. “You would have done fine without anyone else here. You could have run off to Newberry with the rest of the heathens and been handfasted by a cheap High Witch that makes currency preying on amorous young couples like you and Dale.”

Stella clutched her sides, in stitches. “Oh stop! You’ll make me cry.”

“Have you seen Dale?”

“No.” Stella shook her head, then her eyes widened. “Have you? How does he look? Is he here on time? Were his parents here?”

“I haven’t seen him. I only—”

A bell rang across the yard three times, stopping her response. Both girls paused, their ears turned to the front porch from whence the sound came.

“The hand fasting ceremony will begin in ten minutes,” called the droll voice of the James’ butler. “The bride asks that you all be in your seats five minutes before the ceremony begins.”

Stella turned back to Mildred. “I suppose that includes the bride?”

“Only at some weddings,” Mildred said with a wry smile. “Take your time, Stell. They certainly won’t start without you.”

Stella shimmered like the setting sun when she joined Dale on an elevated platform just outside the orchard. An arbor decorated with bouquets of cherry blossoms gave the bride and groom the appearance of floating through piles of cloud. Rays of sunlight twisted through the trees and flowers in strands of gold and crimson.

The officiating Coven Leader, a short, squat man with no neck and very large hands, called for the crowd to quiet.

“The hand fasting ceremony will now begin,” he said, looking up at Stella, who shone with dappled shadows and light.

“Are you Stella?” he asked.

“I am.”

“What is your desire?”

Stella smiled, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes. “To be made one with Dale.”

“Are you Dale?”

Dale’s deep response rang over the crowd. “I am.”

“What is your desire?”

He couldn’t contain his jaunty grin. “To be made one with Stella.”

The chubby Coven Leader smiled on both of them. “Then let us begin the ceremony.”

At Stella’s insistence, the Coven Leader kept the ceremony brief and sweet. By the time he’d finished his remarks, sniffles punctuated the congregation, and Agatha wept at her husband’s side.

“Stella, Dale.” The Coven Leader brought their hands together and clasped them firmly before him. “You are now hand fasted together for as long as the love between you shall last. Be happy. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” Mildred murmured with the rest of the congregation. Stella and Dale embraced in a lovers’ kiss underneath the blooming flowers, accompanied by a raucous, frenzied whoop from the crowd. Stella’s words rang through Mildred’s mind as she stood and applauded her friend who, at that moment, seemed far braver than she.

I want to be a Council Member one day, but I don’t want to do it at the expense of living. I could never be High Priestess. Forbidden from marrying! What about children? What about family? No, I shall live my life and have a career.

“Make it a beautiful life, Stella,” Mildred whispered, smiling at her best friend. “Live it for me.”