My Dead Daughter's Wedding Invitation

"Her health hasn't been good these past years, and she's grown quieter than she used to be."

"If she seems the least bit rude, please don't hold it against her."

As the words fell, the bride slowly lifted her head.

Behind the veil was a face exactly like Lorna's.

But one look was all it took, and my heart went cold.

She was not my daughter.

My Lorna had bright eyes.

When she laughed, they were like the clearest spring water of the borderlands in March.

She would never look at me with eyes so timid, so quick to look away.

And she would never, at the first sight of me, shrink instinctively behind Zachary Sanchez.

I spoke softly. "Lorna."

She seemed to come back to herself at last, and slowly turned to me.

Her eyes rimmed red in an instant.

"Mother."

That single word landed.

And I laughed.

Seeing me laugh, the guests around us relaxed too.

They must have thought it was only a mother reunited with her daughter after years apart, overcome for a moment.

Zachary let out a quiet breath of relief as well.

But he didn't know.

From the time she was small, Lorna never once called me Mother.

She called me Mama.

I took a step forward, and the bride instinctively drew back.

At once Zachary moved between us.

"Mrs. Harding, Lorna isn't well."

"The doctor said she can't take any shock."

"If you have something to say, you can say it slowly, after the wedding."

I raised my eyes to him.

"I call my own daughter's name, and that counts as a shock?"

The smile at the corner of Zachary's mouth faded a little.

"You misunderstand me. I only worry for her."

I stared at him, and suddenly I remembered seven years ago.

He had knelt in the borderlands, covered in wounds, yet clutching Lorna's hand and refusing to let go.

Lorna had been hiding behind him then, watching me with a flushed face.

Back then, I believed there would always be someone in this world who would treasure her.

Only now do I know.

The oaths of men from beyond the mountains are worth nothing at all.

Old Mrs. Sanchez came over too, supported on someone's arm, her face all kindness and warmth.

"Our honored kinswoman has come such a long way. Please, take the seat of honor."

"The child has suffered so much these years, and it's been so hard for her to finally reach her wedding day. You mustn't frighten her."

I ignored her, and looked only at the silver bell on the bride's wrist.

"Give me your hand."

The bride's face went white in a flash.

I said flatly, "I only want to look."

"To see whether the child-curse inside my daughter is still there."

At those words, every Sanchez face changed.

Zachary's voice turned to ice.

"Mrs. Harding, today is a day of celebration."

"If you object to my marrying Lorna, you can say so plainly."

"There's no need to use these things to humiliate her."

The bride burst into tears at once, her eyes red.

"Mother, I know you blame me for not listening back then, for leaving the borderlands with Zachary."

"But I truly am Lorna."

"How can you doubt me like this?"

She wept, the very picture of something pitiable.

The way the guests around me looked at me shifted in an instant.

"What a cruel mother, making a scene at her own daughter's wedding."

"Don't tell me she thinks the Sanchez bride-gift was too small?"

Listening to it all, I found it almost laughable.

I, Ellie Harding, have ruled the borderlands for twenty years.

A thousand curses and ten thousand insects answer to my hand, and all twelve bloodlines of the settlement obey my command.

Would I come to the Sanchez house to make a scene over a bride-gift?

I offered no explanation. I only raised my hand.

A black-butterfly curse flew from my sleeve and settled on the bride's wrist.

The bride screamed in terror and flung her arm wildly.

"Ah!"

"Get it off! Get it off me!"

Her cry was too shrill, too desperate.

Even Zachary froze for a moment.

My daughter had lived alongside curses since she was a child.

She was afraid of pain. She was afraid of the dark.