Upstairs, the two of them each took turns in the shower before continuing their chat sprawled on the cozy beds.

After a while, Mrs. Sampson knocked on the door and chided, “Time to hit the hay, you don’t want to be applying makeup over dark circles tomorrow.”

With that, Magdalen playfully pulled Estelle into bed. Mrs. Sampson turned off the light, reminding Magdalen not to hog the blankets or kick Estelle in her sleep.

Magdalen chuckled, “Oh, don’t worry about it. With Estelle’s ninja moves, do you really think I could steal the covers from her?”

Mrs. Sampson shot her a look and left, closing the door behind her.

The light from the garden lamps seeped into the room, keeping it from total darkness. Magdalen peeked over the covers at Estelle, both sharing a mischievous grin.

Perhaps it was the anticipation of the wedding, but Estelle thought Magdalen seemed particularly childlike tonight.

Estelle reached under her pillow for her phone – no message from Jonathan. He’d sent a video that morning, but had been silent ever since.

Could he make it back for Magdalen’s wedding tomorrow?

After a moment of silence, Magdalen suddenly spoke up, “Estelle, are you asleep?”

Estelle turned to her friend, “Can’t sleep for real?”

Magdalen hugged the comforter, her bare face glowing with a natural allure, “A little.”

Estelle pursed her lips, “Then let’s chat for five more minutes.”

Energized, they nestled under the blankets, whispering in the dark about Morrison, Jonathan, and all the dreams of their futures, letting the conversation wander wherever it pleased.

As the night deepened, sleep eventually took them.

In the wee hours, Mrs. Sampson came in to see their blankets kicked to the foot of the bed. She tiptoed in, tucking them in gently. Magdalen was out cold, but Estelle woke at the slightest touch.

Without opening her eyes, Estelle felt Mrs. Sampson adjust her blanket, then sit by Magdalen, watching over her daughter for a long while.

Come dawn, the Sampson household was already bustling.

The extended family had arrived bright and early, and the kitchen was abuzz with preparations for the wedding feast – sugar-dusted pastries and celebratory dishes filled the air with their festive aroma.

As the eastern sky began to lighten, Estelle opened her eyes, and so did Magdalen. They gazed at each other in the dim morning light.

Estelle whispered, “Happy wedding day!”

sparkled with joy,

came through the door, “Magdalen, Ella,

it!”

up, the maids brought up a wedding breakfast. The makeup

congratulated Magdalen and turned to Estelle with a smile, “I

“Yes, he’s

“He’ll be thrilled!”

with one another, they

milled about, admiring the wedding gift that the Sampson family had laid out in the yard – it was the talk

all future wealth would be hers – the generous wedding gift

Estelle sat beside her, checking her silent

bridesmaids’ dresses, personally selected by Magdalen, were a symphony of silver, with pleated chiffon skirts and cinched waists, accented with pink rhinestones – a breath

– an off-shoulder style with sheer puff sleeves that showcased her delicate

finally donned her bridal gown, everyone crowded around,

dress, an off-shoulder mermaid cut, hugged her figure gracefully, the trailing veil adding a touch

the elaborate embroidery on the hem, featured

enhanced by makeup, was breathtaking in the white bridal gown,

each took turns in the shower before

and chided, “Time to hit the hay, you

off the light, reminding Magdalen not to hog the blankets or kick

“Oh, don’t worry about it. With Estelle’s ninja moves, do you really think I could

Sampson shot her a look and left,

light from the garden lamps seeped into the room, keeping it from total darkness. Magdalen peeked over the

anticipation of the wedding,

her pillow for her phone – no message from Jonathan. He’d sent

he make it back for Magdalen’s

Magdalen suddenly spoke up,

to her friend,

hugged the comforter, her bare face

pursed her lips, “Then let’s chat for five

the blankets, whispering in the dark about Morrison, Jonathan, and all the dreams of their futures, letting the conversation wander wherever it

the night deepened,

wee hours, Mrs. Sampson came in to see their blankets kicked to the foot of the bed. She tiptoed in, tucking them in gently. Magdalen was out cold, but Estelle woke at the

then

dawn, the Sampson household was already

and early, and the kitchen was abuzz with preparations for the wedding feast – sugar-dusted pastries and celebratory dishes filled the air

and so

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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