But she would never fear a curse.

The black butterfly settled on the silver bell, its wings giving a faint tremble.

The next instant, it dropped straight to the floor.

Dead.

The last trace of a smile left my face.

Zachary faltered for a heartbeat. It showed.

Then his voice dropped low again.

"Mrs. Harding, Lorna's been away from the borderlands for years. It's only natural these things unsettle her."

"There's no need to press her so hard."

I looked at him and gave a cold laugh.

"Zachary. This woman beside you is not my daughter."

The bride's knees buckled and she dropped straight to the floor.

"Mama!"

"You can't refuse to claim me just because I left the borderlands!"

She clutched at the hem of my dress, weeping.

"I know I was wrong."

"I'll come back to see you often from now on, I promise."

"I'm begging you, don't do this to me at my own wedding."

Zachary bent at once to help her up, his eyes full of tenderness.

"Lorna, don't beg her."

When he raised his head to look at me, the last warmth had gone out of his eyes.

"Mrs. Harding, I respect you as an elder."

"But Lorna is my wife now."

"No one humiliates her in front of me."

I watched the way he shielded that woman.

And a thought came to me.

If Lorna had been shielded like that back then.

Would she still be alive?

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, a bronze curse-vessel sat in my palm.

Old Mrs. Sanchez's face changed.

"What are you trying to do?"

I didn't answer.

I only opened the vessel.

Inside, the mother-curse had been at its last breath.

But the moment the vessel opened, it flung itself against the walls of the vessel like something gone mad.

Not toward the bride, but toward the Sanchez inner hall.

Beating itself bloody.

My fingers tightened, little by little.

Zachary saw it too, and started for the inner hall.

Zachary barked, "Stop her!"

Several bodyguards rushed forward at once.

But before they could reach me, twelve black butterflies rose from behind me.

And settled on the backs of their necks.

The men froze where they stood, unable to move so much as a finger.

The guests screamed and shrank back.

Step by step, I walked toward the inner hall.

Zachary lunged in front of me, blocking my way.

"Ellie Harding!"

"This is my wedding. Don't push this too far!"

I stopped and looked at him.

"Zachary."

"My daughter's remains."

"Where are they, in this house of yours?"

Zachary stood in my path, and every trace of warmth was gone from his face now.

"Ellie Harding."

"Lorna is standing right in front of you."

"You insist she's dead. Do you just want the whole world watching the Sanchez family make fools of themselves?"

He didn't say it loudly.

But every guest in the hall heard it.

The ones who had backed away in terror from the curse-insects slowly closed in again.

Someone murmured under their breath.

"Her own daughter's wedding day, and instead of a blessing the mother curses her to death."

"Borderland people really are sinister."

"The Sanchez heir has quite the patience. If it were me, I'd have thrown her out long ago."

Old Mrs. Sanchez picked up her prayer beads again, her expression heavy.

"Mrs. Harding, children grow up. They marry, in the end."

"You can't destroy Lorna's good name in public just because she spent seven years away from the borderlands."

She spoke with such mercy, but her eyes were cold as a knife.

The false bride finally caught on, crawling two steps toward me on her knees.

"Mama."

This time, she changed how she said it.

Zachary must have caught the slip a moment ago.

Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, her voice trembling at just the right pitch.

"I know you still blame me."

"Blame me for not listening back then, for insisting on leaving the borderlands with Zachary."

"But all I wanted was to marry the man I loved."

As she spoke, she drew a silver clasp out of her gown.

A tiny butterfly was carved into it.

My eyes fell on that clasp, and something in my chest wrenched tight.

I had forged it with my own hands the year Lorna turned seven.

As a child she was always hiding her treasures in a little cloth pouch.

The clasp had been sewn into the deepest fold of that pouch.

She used to say that when she had a child of her own someday, she would sew this same clasp into hers.

And now it was in this woman's hand.

The bride raised the clasp up in front of me, crying.

"Mama, look."

"You gave this to me yourself."

"I've kept it all this time."

"How could I not be your Lorna?"

I did not take the clasp. I only looked at her.

"If you're Lorna."

"Then tell me. When did I give you this clasp?"

For one instant the bride's face froze.

Zachary spoke at once.

"Lorna's health has been poor these past years."

"There's so much from her childhood she can't clearly remember."

"Mrs. Harding, must you corner her like this, on her wedding day?"

He crossed to the bride's side and reached out to help her up.

His movements were gentle, as if she were something fragile and precious.

"She's been anxious for a long time, working toward today."

"You're her mother. Can't you spare her a little tenderness, just once?"

Leaning against Zachary, the bride wept harder.

"Mama, if you won't claim me."

"Then I won't marry today."

"I don't want to put Zachary in a hard place."

Zachary's face darkened, and he lifted his eyes to me.

"Mrs. Harding."

"If you still claim Lorna as your daughter, then drape the borderland bridal gown over her with your own hands."

"If you won't claim her, then leave."

"I won't let anyone ruin her wedding."

The moment those words left him, the Sanchez family had someone carry over a wooden chest.

When it opened, the whole hall went quiet for a breath.

Inside was a borderland bridal gown, red ground worked with silver thread.

I had embroidered it for Lorna with my own hands.

Before she left the borderlands, she had secretly tried it on once.

The skirt was too long, trailing across the floor.

She turned a full circle, her eyes crinkling with laughter.

"Mama, do I look pretty in it?"

"On the day I marry, you have to drape it over me yourself."

I scolded her then for being shameless, but that same night I sewed the blood-thread curse into the gown.

If Lorna wore it, it would glow a faint blue and guard her safety all her life.

If it was not Lorna, it would not stir at all.

Zachary pushed the gown toward me.

"Your borderland things would never lie to you."

"If the gown knows its rightful owner, shouldn't you be apologizing to Lorna?"

The bride stood where she was, a flicker of satisfaction she couldn't quite smother crossing her eyes.

But she quickly lowered her head again, putting on a wronged little look.

"Mama, I'm willing to prove it."

"As long as you'll claim me."

I looked at that gown, and suddenly I smiled.

"All right."

"Then prove it to me."

I reached out and took up the gown, walking step by step toward the bride.

With my own hands I draped it over her shoulders.

The silver thread that had lain dead suddenly lit.

Blue curse-light flowed out along the patterns.

Old Mrs. Sanchez let out a breath at last.

Zachary looked at me, a cold, certain triumph in his eyes.

"What have you got to say now?"

The bride's tears rolled down, as if some vast injustice had finally been washed clean.

"The gown knows me."

"I really am your Lorna."

I stood there, watching the curse-light on the gown.

For one instant, my heart lurched hard.

Could she truly be my Lorna?

But soon enough, I saw what was wrong.

A thought flashed through my mind.

I knew exactly what was going on now!