Her Orc Blacksmiths (BLACK BEAR CLAN #7) by Zoe Ashwood EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Zoe Ashwood
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.7 MB
- Price: Free
The wedding guests shuffle in their seats, restless. My father draws his
silver watch from the pocket of his waistcoat, flips open the lid, and clicks
his tongue impatiently. Under my white veil, I’m sweating, waiting in the
shade of the inn. With every minute that passes, I’m more nervous looking
over at the wedding party gathered on the village green. Almost everyone I
know is here—neighbors, cousins, friends—with the most notable
exception of the man I’m marrying today.
Ansel is late. I’m not sure whether you can be fashionably late to a
wedding, your own or otherwise, but Ansel definitely passed the
fashionable mark a quarter of an hour ago. We were supposed to get
married before noon, then proceed to the sprawling backyard of my father’s
inn for a wedding feast the likes of which this village hasn’t seen in years. A
beautiful day dawned this morning, and for the first time since my parents
made the arrangements with Ansel’s family, I felt as if the gods were
smiling down on us. Autumn weather can be unpredictable, but my wedding
day, it seems, will go down in history as unseasonably warm and sunny.
My mother bustles to my side, fanning herself with her bonnet. That she
has taken the straw-and-silk contraption off is a mark of her distress—she
has spent more money and effort on her outfit for the day than I spent for
my own dress and dowry included. To be the mother of the bride means a
lot to her, so I didn’t complain. She’ll have to wait nearly a decade before
she gets to marry off Luca, my younger brother.
“Jasmine, there you are. Where is that blasted boy?” she hisses under
her breath, as if I plotted this delay myself. “His parents arrived on time, but
his mother claims she has no knowledge of what’s going on.”
I’d noticed my future in-laws in the front row, a couple of seats from my
father and brother.
“Maybe he’s taken ill,” I suggest. “A case of the nerves, perhaps? I’m
sure he’ll be here soon.”
I don’t recognize the voice coming out of my mouth. It’s very calm and
not at all like mine, but my mother is too distracted to notice. She exclaims
over the indignity of having to delay and complains that the roast will be all
dried out if we wait any longer to serve it to the guests. I tune out her voice
and focus on drawing deep, calming breaths.
If Ansel is indeed late because he’s too nervous to show his face, I
understand it completely. I wish we’d had time to get to know each other
better—then I could have confided in him that I feel exactly the same. I
couldn’t eat a bite at breakfast, a fact that my mother applauded because she
claimed my gown would fit me better on an empty stomach. But the truth
is, I don’t know my husband-to-be at all.
And while he seemed like a nice
man during the two short visits we had, I won’t claim I’m excited to marry
him, so I suspect he might be equally reticent about me.
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