Nora's POV
"Consider yourself fortunate that I'm here." Antonia grasps my hand gently, applying a delicate layer of soft pink nail polish with precise strokes. "I can work miracles with those bruises, though that cut across your face might prove challenging to conceal completely."
"Perhaps we could apply additional healing balm," Ophelia proposes, carefully removing my wedding gown from its protective covering and hanging it with reverent care. Saturday evening has arrived, and following our rejuvenating spa day with Antonia, I feel energized and prepared for marriage.
"Honestly, I've stopped caring about appearances," I confess. "The important thing is we're all present. James is here. There's even a hellhound occupying my dressing room, yet we've made it this far." I glance upward, moving cautiously to avoid disrupting my manicure, knowing Antonia would scold me mercilessly for any careless movement.
