Faerie footprints are specks of magic that the earth couldn't bear to part with.
CHAPTER 20
BOOK TWO: THE OATHING STONE
The white lace draped over the cool white satin on Catherine's skin, leaving her delightfully breathless in the form-fitting wedding gown. While standing in the back room belonging to one of many shops owned by Mary, her dear friend who was busying herself just in front of her, she waited patiently for her to finish the adjustments.
“It's just what I wanted," Catherine sighed with bliss, running her hands down the fabric.
Mary handed some extra fabric to her young assistant. “Aye, that's grand," she said. With two silver combs holding her snowy waves back to let fall behind her shoulders, she turned and briefly looked up at Catherine with two perceptive blue eyes
