To wait for Marek would have been missing the point. The point was to do something dumb and impulsive and young. Melinda had been doing a lot of growing up in the last week, and she so wanted to feel irresponsible and carefree. If this didn't fit that description, what did? Melinda asked, in the only French sentence she knew, if the registrar knew any English.
"I do, Mademoiselle," he said with a courteous nod. "I speak it quite well. You wish to apply for a marriage license?"
"We'd like to do the ceremony," she said, glancing over at Alec and reaching up to fiddle with the scarf. She supposed this had to come off. She didn't want to show her face, what she looked like now, to this stranger. Or to Fletcher, really -- unless he'd seen her during the battle, he hadn't seen it yet either.