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My gown was an off white, with a burgundy bodice, and a black sash. Sarah Jane looked lovely in her wedding gown. How could she not, though? It was perfect in its whiteness. Small, dark red rosebuds trimmed the hem and adorned the sleeves. Her hair was done up, with ruby adorned hairpins peeking out like flowers. As I helped place the last hairpin, I gave my sister a hug and looked into the mirror with her.
"You look beautiful," I told her.
"So do you," Sarah Jane replied as she placed one of her hands on mine. "I'm nervous!"
"I would expect so." I smiled.
"And excited," she added. "Do you think I'm making a mistake?"
"Sarah Jane, I think once you are blessed to find the person you want to be with and they return that affection, you should be with them," I answered truthfully. "What brings this on?"
"Last minute jitters. Or a mix of Aunt Pen and nerves."
"Whatever did she say?"
"She asked me if I was sure, because of how little everyone knows of him."
"Well, he has the backing of the Marquis himself. And he adores you, just the way he glows when he's with you makes it obvious."
"There are things I haven't even told you. I hope you can forgive me."
"I doubt there is anything to forgive," I assured her. "I'm sure I don't need to know everything between you and your beloved."
"Elizabeth—” Sarah Jane was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Excuse me, Miss," the maid spoke from the doorway, "it's time for the bride to come downstairs."
"We'll be right there," I called back. I turned my attention back to Sarah Jane. "This is it."
***
Edward and George met us at the bottom of the stairwell. Edward took Sarah Jane's arm.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Sarah Jane replied.
***
The wedding itself was beautiful. The wedding breakfast, while it looked delicious, I could barely eat.
Sarah Jane and Tristan kept looking at each other, and I felt my eyes sting. Sarah Jane was rubbing off on me. I must not be a watering pot at the table!
After breakfast, we bid most of the guests farewell. Mr. Throckmorten looked a little road weary already, but I was glad he was leaving.
“I hope we’ll see you again soon, Elizabeth,” he told me.
“Have a safe trip,” I said politely.
“Mrs. Pendry, it has been wonderful to visit with you again. I look forward to your return to London.”
“Of course, Mr. Throckmorten. We’ll see you soon.”
After the last of the guests, except for the Hodges, had departed, Sarah Jane pulled me aside as Tristan was talking to the driver of the carriage that would take them on the first stretch of their honeymoon trip.
“There’s more to this than you realize.”
“What do you mean?” I knew marriage meant Sarah Jane would no longer live at Pendington.
“Tristan’s a prince,” Sarah Jane whispered.
“Of course, he is to you.” It was only fitting she would think that.
“I’m serious, a foreign prince, but one nonetheless. It’s one of the things I could not tell you before now.”
“Sarah Jane,” I started to say, but then grew quiet as a thought hit me. “From where?”
“Moonspire,” Sarah Jane’s answer was a matter of fact. I nearly laughed, but I saw the seriousness in her eyes. “It’s real, Elizabeth, what Tristan said. Everything.”
I was at a loss of words.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but you’ve always held a belief in fairies. If anybody can understand it’s you.”
“Those are just stories...” Weren’t they? And then it hit me, what George must have meant in Edward’s office.
“I’m not sure she realizes what she’d be getting into.”
***
I wanted to know more about Moonspire. A part of me could accept that fairies existed. Gumihos, shapeshifters, and the like I wasn't so sure about. Where did that leave George and me?
"How does one get to Moonspire?" I asked one afternoon, as George and I were out practicing archery.
"Through a portal mostly. Tristan maintains a few. Old trees usually work best," George said. “Like the oak tree of yours.”
"And you just walk right up to it and anybody can come and go through it?" I had been to my oak tree many times, and it had never revealed a magical world to me.
"No, you need a token of power. The Fey royalty have a ring. You've seen Tristan's ring right?"
"The crown one?"
"That would be the one," George said as he pulled back on his drawstring.
"Tristan is a prince?"
"He is."
"Then who is the heir of Moonspire?"
"Tristan," George answered, amusement evident by his dancing eyes.
"I meant, who is your father's heir. You told me it wasn't you."
"It's not. At least not here. Tristan will become the British marquis, as one of the princes of Moonspire."
"Do you have a token of power?" I looked at George's hands as he released his arrow. It hit the center of the bullseye.
George shook his head. "No, I don't. Father does as the Marquis."
"Will you inherit the ring?"
"No," George said as I lowered my bow and arrow.
"How come?" It didn't seem fair that he wouldn't inherit that.
"The magic ties it to the person it was made for. It only works for the one person."
"Oh, so you'll probably get your own then." I chewed my bottom lip for a moment in thought.
"I don't need one since I'm both mortal and mystical," George said. “The tokens are needed to cross to a realm that is not in your blood.”
"How do I know you really are a gumiho? In the book, the legend about the wedding night where the woman, I mean the gumiho shifted into a human and married a man before eating his liver on their wedding night. So can you shapeshift?"
"No, I can't."
"So you could just be telling me, bouncers, since you can't prove it."
"You believe in God right?"
"Of course!"
"Can you prove it?" George countered.
"Of course, with the Bible."
"That's not solid proof, Elizabeth. There are folks that don't believe in God, and therefore would say the Bible is not proof."
"But there is proof," I insisted.
"You see the proof because of your faith, there's nothing wrong with that."
"So you're telling me that in order to see proof that you're half gumiho I have to believe it first?"
"That's one way to look at it," George grinned nailing another bullseye.
***
Before George and the marquis left, George presented me with a parting gift. It was a beautiful hair stick. On the tip was a jeweled flower, made of lovely red garnets. Lighter green peridot formed the stem and leaves. Foreign script was on the stick itself.
"It is beautiful. Thank you, George."
"Garnets represent friendship," George said. "And I have come to value our friendship in a short time. Peridots, the stem of the flower, is said to have mythical properties, and can protect from magic."
I touched the jeweled flower and glanced at George. If liver devouring creatures existed, I probably needed it. I wasn’t sure I wanted magic to be real.
"It also has other properties. It also signifies strength—and you are stronger than you know, Elizabeth." George continued as he had me turn my back to him so he could put the hair stick in my hair. I gave George's hand a reassuring squeeze and suddenly felt rather shy.