Though I prefer to keep to myself, I’m no fool. My custom wedding dress had been resized to fit Zolenn. The other dress, the one in my size, was a cheap, knock-off version. In Yzail’s eyes, I was apparently only worthy of wearing something cheap, just to make his beloved Zolenn stand out even more.
When the day of our scheduled wedding registration came, Yzail didn’t mention it at all. He even took the household registration booklet, tucked it into his pocket, and headed out, though not before stopping by the bakery downstairs to bring me some soup dumplings.
“Lanaya, I bought you breakfast. Make sure to eat well and rest up these next few days. In two days, I’ll come and marry you!”
I accepted the breakfast, thanked him, and said “okay.”
Hearing me thank him, Yzail stopped in his tracks.
“Why are you being so polite to me lately?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you nervous because the wedding’s so close? Pre-wedding jitters?”
I smiled, playing along. “Maybe.”
He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, then pulled out a chair and sat beside me. He held my left hand, as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to start.