The Siren's Mark (Loki Romance)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The biggest downside to marrying a prince, if ever I were to find one, is that I have had zero control over the planning of my own wedding. Marginal say over the choice of dress, and little to no say in the venue itself.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, is only mildly perturbing. It's certainly not to say that it's all gone south, of course. On the contrary, I never would've been able to design—or afford—a wedding like this one. A fact that I'd turned over in my head again and again these past few months—and now the moment is finally here, I'm...fucking ecstatic.

Standing on the outskirts of the giant venue, my limbs tremble as I teeter in place in my giant heels—which are meant to carry me down a massive alleyway, through the giant crowd of Asgardians.

Who will be watching me on all sides. Every last one of them.

Every single one.

Along with the rest of the world, apparently. Though with the onslaught of nervousness and excitement swirling around in my chest, the additional stress of a televised wedding is marginal. A number of the people here are political guests, and I would never have had such an extravagant wedding without their 'monetary gifts'—in exchange for some a well-publicized invitation.

A bit more political than I would've ever imagined my wedding being, but there's a meaningful aspect to it that I appreciate. Loki and his people—my to-be family—honored by all of Europe. It's almost...poetic.

Something tugs on my train, and I look back to see one of the wedding girls—for lack of a better name—fixing it up behind me. With a quick peak behind the white curtain billowing in the arch before me, I take a heavy sigh. The venue itself is gorgeous; a beautifully adorned colosseum, donning pillars and European architecture. And if that weren't enough, there's the onslaught of additional decorations all around us. Tasteful fabrics and strings of little lights hanging up way overhead, swaying in the high winds.

Our friends and family—my parents included—are seated at the very front of the arena, and those are pretty much the only people that I know. I can only get two seconds of a glance out to where they're sitting before a friendly face pops up in front of me...

"You okay, Cer?" Pepper's voice jolts me back from scanning the backs of their heads, just as I was planning to trail up to the massive height of the walls and cameras being touched up for the perfect angle.

I exhale sharply. "Yeah..." I turn back to her with a smile. "Just a little overwhelmed..."

"Right—yeah, don't worry 'bout the cameras," she says, barely looking me in the eyes as she busies herself fixing up the crystal adornments in my hair. "You'll get used to them, and all the important people are going to be in the front, anyway."

"Right," I smirk. "Forget the millions of other people..." The millions of other people watching form home, who don't know Loki's history—thank God.

"Those millions of people are just going to be thinking about what a hot couple you are," she says, with a hint of dry sarcasm—still fixing up my hair. What a dedicated maid of honor, I've chosen. Dealing with me without so much as a nervous flinch at my scowl—not even when I mockingly threaten to impale her with my shoe.

I let out a tension-cutting chuckle. "Well okay, you think you won't be nervous on your wedding day?" I arch a brow, scanning her intent face as she finishes up. "That'll be just as publicized, if not more."

She shrugs. "I'm used to it. I will be anyway, when the wedding actually happens."

It was strange at first, to be planning—or watching my wedding get planned—before hers. But the nice blend of media relations, business trajectory, and lack of time to actually plan the big day is the cause of their postponement. That and Tony's bougie insistence that they get the finest venue around, which is booked almost one and a half years ahead.