Opus Veda

"…it is with great honour then, that I pronounce you both, officially, married.

…and about damn time too you may now kiss!"

The brides happily obliged. Applause rose from the pews. Superintendent Morgan - acting as officiator - stepped respectfully away. Six officers saluted in two ranks of three.

Gemma and Scarlett Alderton held hands and faced their audience - Scarlett, beaming with wet eyes, waving excitedly; Gemma, tense but collected, smiling politely. The hall bristled with Scarlett's university connections, including those critical of her marital choice: the inner circle of Feminist Society.

Gemma had two guests. Luis and Eva. All she needed. Eva was clapping madly and stifling her tears. Luis was laughing with folded arms and a Cheshire grin.

They walked down the aisle to a flower trellis, under which their marriage certificate lay. They signed it and held it up. A photographer took a rare physical - a single physical image, showing Gemma and Scarlett's true faces; a memento for them to keep.

Phone cameras snapped next. AI trackers covered everyone's faces with their avatars. Some guests wore chrome facemasks for added protection. All attendees enjoyed the novelty of tradition despite themselves. It was outdated but quaint. For many, it would be the only wedding they'd witness in their life.

A gift from Southwark PD greeted them at the bar: buckets of champagne, trays of flutes, a food buffet containing genuine meat. All paid for in honour of Gemma's exploits. Everyone raised a glass to the brides future, some called for a speech. Scarlett waved her hands in protest and hid behind her wife, pushing Gemma forward when the latter tried refusing.

"Well… thanks everyone for being here! Aren't we old fashioned!? Planning a wedding has been stressful, expensive, and full of arguing. I still recommend it!"

A few polite laughs murmured. Gemma winced and forced herself to carry on.

"To Scarlett's friends, thank you for being there for her when I haven't been able to. You gave her the community we all long for. I know some of you didn't like Scarlett being with an 'establishment' partner, but as my coworkers tell me: you can keep the feminist out of the police, but you can't keep the detective out of the feminist."

The university society, dour with the seriousness of their cause, became a chorus of outraged sighs and tutting. Luis and Eva cackled together from the sideline. Gemma pointed her partner out.

"My partner Luis. I never realised I had a knack for anger management until I got stuck with you, but I know you're angry for the right reason. Thank you for caring about justice when so few of us do. It's made me a better person.

Scarlett... everyone will die of shame if I mention love, but-"

Scarlett raised her finger and pressed it against Gemma's lips.

"If it wasn't for you I wouldn't even know what that word means."

Everyone cheered as the brides kissed once more. Background music began playing. The champagne began its sharp decline. Different groups broke off into small pockets to drink and chat.

"Is this what rich people brag about!?" Eva sipped her champagne a second time to be certain; she flinched with disgust, "tastes like heartburn and toothache. You finish mine Scarlett…"

Scarlett took the refill gladly. Gemma leant over and squeezed Eva's cheek.

"We're going to miss you terribly Eva. I hope we can keep in touch, if you're comfortable with that!"

Eva pulled a glum face and nodded. Her chest went hollow. She wanted nothing more than to live with Gemma and Scarlett, instead of whatever foster home the council pulled.

But she forced herself to be realistic. She braved a smile and pretended to need the toilet, giving the brides a moment alone. They watched her totter around the corner. Scarlett wrapped her arms around Gemma's waist and sighed into her neck.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Are you sure we can't get a girl of our own? And preferably her?"

"I wish we could Scarlett but, not yet… not while this new job plays out."

"You barely made it out of one fight alive. We're finally married and you're charging into another as a soldier!"

Gemma kissed Scarlett's hair and smiled, "as an officer, actually."

"Well..." Scarlett turned Gemma's hand around and placed a ribboned packet in it, "since you're going to be away more often…"

Gemma felt Scarlett shrug - a sign she was nervous. She opened the packet. Two heart shaped lockets slid out, carved from jade. The same green as Scarlett's eyes. Gemma's favourite colour. Delicate silver chains dangled from each.

"I had them made for us," said Scarlett, "let me show you."

She opened and closed each heart individually, then together. With both open, their song twinkled.

Scarlett braced herself, "I hope you don't find it cringe-"

"They're beautiful... I love them!" Gemma lowered hers over her neck and did likewise for Scarlett, "but I want you to see me wearing mine in person! I hope I won't be away too much."

"I hope so too. Whatever you're going into sounds suspicious... I'm half wondering if you've taken up terrorism Gemma..."

"That wouldn't be so bad…" Gemma snorted, "it's looking like they'll be the popular team this year."

"No," Scarlett pouted and shook her head, "no one will ever accept Opus Veda. All they ever do is show the world it's own shame."

"Oh goodness gracious me," Luis leant on the trellis behind them and groaned, "look at you two… what a depressing sight to behold at the end of an otherwise great year."

"Luis!" Gemma beckoned him in. Luis hopped forward and sighed.

"I note you referred to me in your little speech as 'partner'… does anyone here even know you've left me!?"

"I managed so well without you, Anita didn't think I'd need one anymore."

"Oh you're on first name terms with her!" Luis turned to Scarlett with mock surprise, "you do realise the Home Secretary's one of your wife's wild cards?"

"I do, but can you imagine Gemma and Anita Søreni trying to fuck each other? It would be like an immovable object meeting an immovable object."

Luis laughed and patted Gemma's arm as she complained.

"Anyway my dear, as far as the police are concerned I'm on sabbatical taking a long fucking break. I'll pick up some indie P.I. work over the summer if needs be," he raised his glass, inspecting liquid bubbles in the light, "seriously I'm happy for you both. Gemma, thanks for making my time with the police bearable. Scarlett, thank you for giving Gemma the companion she deserves. It's a genuine relief knowing you're together.

Now go and thank your other guests!"

The brides said their thanks and made their pleasantries. Eva found a seat along the wall where she could hide and watch. She saw students sharing phone screens and dance routines. They laughed and joked together. Eva wanted to join in but didn't dare - they were too confident and cool. Instead she adjusted her silver hairpin - her medal for bravery - and hoped one of them might notice it glint and talk to her.

Scarlett caught her eye. Something was off. Luis was talking to her. They were trying to look casual but Eva saw it underneath: the feeble attempt of adults trying to hide an argument.

The lights dimmed. People whooped and raised their hands. Music resumed, louder now, playing Gemma and Scarlett's guilty song The Last Waltz.

A spotlight beamed on them and demanded they dance. They fought their embarrassment and went for it. One by one, pair by pair, guests joined them.

Eva was desperate to be a part of it

"Boo!"

She gasped. Luis elbowed her.

"Since you like musicals I'll assume you can bust a few moves. Are you gonna show me?"

Eva's eyes lit up. She forgot her suspicion in an instant and followed him to the dancefloor.

The chorus played. The brides twirled in an embrace. Gemma thought of her future - the danger she was marching into, the parents she had left behind. She hadn't told Scarlett about the phone call - one in which she finally told her parents she didn't want them in her life anymore. For that, she had already started the marriage with a lie. Given Scarlett's history, it felt fairer to keep her out of it.

Scarlett rested her head on Gemma's shoulder and faced away.

Her eyes shut.

She saw herself in the smudged and cracked mirror of her old studio - the first time she pulled a mask over her face and a hood over its eyes.

She saw a mayor's assistant beg as that same mask shrieked into her face. Its eyes bleached every terrified wrinkle of skin as Scarlett hacked the girl apart.

She saw a row of vagrants writhe in fire; heard popping fat; tasted smoke through her mouthpiece.

She saw herself in a van, playing with her engagement ring as the terrorists she called family drove her to a palace of war.

And she remembered every second of that battle; every life she took, every family member she saw die. Tanya, suffocated on cyanide; Kristoff, evaporated in a blast; little Zilong gunned down.

Beautiful, lovely, honest, sweet, kind Esmé, plucked from a world she was too good for.

It wasn't over yet. It wasn't over, because Scarlett didn't want it to be.

The world had yet to suffer enough.

The chorus returned. Gemma felt Scarlett's heart race. Felt nails claw her back.

It felt like love.