Ren Curran and Emi Griffin are both mages, born from the extremely powerful and prestigious Curran and Griffin families. Despite their families' similarities, they have never met. Ever. That changes in the year that they turn sixteen.
As expected of...
"Wake up, Emi," my mother hissed in my ear. "It's time to get ready."
"Mom..." I groaned, the first time I'd called her that since I turned fourteen.
"Emi, it's already nine o'clock, and the wedding's at three," she shook my shoulder. "You've got to get up."
"Fine," I whispered.
"That's a good girl," she smiled. "You can wear these. You'll be getting your hair done before you put on the dress."
She left, hurrying downstairs to prepare food for me. My father had already left, making last-minute preparations with the Currans. I pulled the white button-down shirt that my mother had tossed to me, fastening the sleeves around my elbows, and pulled on a pair of black leggings. I pulled on my school shoes, and ran down the stairs.
"Eat all of this," my mother handed me a plate loaded with food. "You won't be eating anything until after the reception, when you've changed out of your dress. I've learned over the years not to eat in anything important that is also white."
"Yes, Mother," I took the plate, sitting down at the dining table and picking up a fork.
My mother sat across the table from me, staring intently and watching my every move. It took me a little while to notice that she was even tearing up a little.
"Why are you crying, Mother?" I asked. "Aren't you glad to be rid of me?"
"I can't help it," she smiled. "You are my daughter, and it's your wedding day. I can't help but feel sad at letting you go."
"You haven't acted like it," I grumbled.
"Your father's actions and my own are for your own good, Emi," she sighed. "We've made you strong."
"So having no affection makes you strong," I whispered. "That's odd."
"I do love you, Emi," she reached across the table and placed her hand on my cheek. "I'll admit that some of the things we did were wrong. We were... afraid. Afraid of what you would become. You were alien to us, Emi. We didn't know what to do."
"Well, what's been done cannot be reversed," I sighed, eating the last of the food.
"I suppose," she summoned a servant to take the plate away, and grabbed my wrist. "Now, let's go. We'll make you the most beautiful bride that the world has ever seen."
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The first place we went was a nail salon. The small place smelled like rubbing alcohol, and comprised of three tables and five massage chairs with tubs for pedicures. A smiling woman came up to us, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling.
"How may I help you ladies?" she asked.
"We're here for Emi Griffin's appointment," my mother smiled at the woman taking my hand and placing it in hers. "It's her wedding day."
