"I'm getting married tomorrow."

"…I know."

Despite the all the fuss over my wedding, I had never mentioned it to Gilbert. There was no doubt he was aware, but I could never force my lips to form the words to tell him myself. Whenever the thought came into my mind, a needle stitched my lips together and I was unable to pry them apart.

"…Elizaveta?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I know."

We were posed under an old peach tree, watching the sun as it set on my final hours as a free woman. The sky had been dyed with the most gorgeous pastels, and with each moment, the hues burned darker. As light was fleeting, emotions grew more vivid.

"Gilbert…"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

"I know." A hand found mine in the lush mess, and fingers tangled. "Do you remember when we used to hate each other…? It almost seems ironic…"

"…I wish we still did."

"…It would make everything easier…Wouldn't it?"

Gilbert expressed many times over his thoughts of my future husband. I tried not to have a bias opinion, so I mostly listened, being as pleasant as I possibly could be.

"…If he's not gentle with you…" My companion began, his hand grasping mine, "I'll knock his face in."

"…What am I supposed to expect?" No one had told me of how my wedding night was to occur. Asking a man wasn't the most preferred option, but the time was leaking away, and perhaps expecting what was to come would alleviate my concerns.

"…I don't think I'm the right person to ask…" Lips were given generously to my upper cheek.

"No…please…I'm so nervous…"

There was a slight pause. "…It won't be so bad…At least, I don't think. The first time will probably be the worst…but it's better after that…You might even enjoy it, but I doubt it with that idiot Roderich…"

There were no words to share, although there were many questions I was too shy to release.

Gilbert's hand left mine and without warning, our mouths touched.

"Don't worry…It only breaks my heart even more."

I loved how very unpredictable he was. Almost all of his kisses were unexpected, and I adored how he was never afraid to give his lips to me.

"I'm sorry…" I said.

"…Why?"

"…Because I can't belong to you…"

"You can belong to me now…At least that counts for something…" Black gloved hands held my face, and multiple kisses were laid gently upon my cheeks.

We lingered with the sun, watching as it sank below the mountains and confiscating all of those lovely pastels. Stars dappled the sky, and I was still nailed to his side. Most times like this, tears would mar my eyes, but for Gilbert, all my crying had been done and I was left with subdued depression.

"…I have to go…" The statement was true, but legs still wouldn't let me stand.

"…I'm going to find a way to see you…"

My mouth was barren.

"I'm going to find a way to see you, and if he ever hurts you, I'm going to steal you away…"

"…Gilbert…" I had to turn away. "…Are you coming tomorrow?"

"…No. I always cry at weddings."

"…So do I…"

A pause. "…I love you."

"…I love you too." Finally, I forced myself from the ground. "…But I really must go…"

My wrist was caught by gentle fingers. I turned to see Gilbert looking at me, eyes full of deep emotion. He didn't move his lips. He didn't have to.

"…I'm sorry…" My voice was soft.

"…Elizaveta…You're going to be beautiful tomorrow…I wish I could see you…"

"…I'll send you a photograph…"

"Thank you."

We were lost in each other's eyes, pain at a mutual understanding. Finally, my arm was returned.

"…Goodbye."

"…Goodbye..."

Gilbert was left under the peach tree.

That night, I sat in my room, staring at a reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow I would be devoted to a man a barely knew …He was a musician…He was frugal…And he was Austrian…

I began to wonder what thoughts were coursing through his mind. He had been married several times before me. It must have been just another ceremony. Only another hassle…

Would he appreciate having me as a bride?

And for a moment, I truly did wish my country willed me to be with Gilbert. I wanted to wear that elegant white dress for his eyes. I wanted to be brushed ever so softly by the blades of his fingers, and to be touched by his affectionate lips…Instead, I would be property to the man he hated most.

I lied amongst my sheets, sleep refusing to claim me with eyes closed as energy washed from my grasp.