Death's melody

I will play the tune of death at your funeral... I promise you.

I was sitting in front of the mirror, looking at my reflection in the white wedding dress. I was removing makeup from my face, waiting for my groom whom I had seen once, just two days ago. My thoughts drifted back a little to the past.

While I was sitting on a worn-out bed in the middle of a room that reflected the poor economic state my family lived in, I played on the piano app on my phone.

A door opening sound interrupted me. Damn, didn’t anyone teach them to knock? I raised my eyes with boredom.

My mother stood at the entrance with her hardened features, still gripping the door handle, speaking with a firm tone.

“Move, get ready, change your clothes to something appropriate, then come to the living room.”

I didn’t argue much, as if I could predict her harsh reaction. I had always received insults and beatings from my parents whenever I asked about something. I was simply considered a toy not allowed to utter a word.

I got up from the bed, heading to the worn wardrobe. I opened the door and saw those few pieces that could be counted on fingers. I laughed mockingly as I remembered my mother’s words.

“As if I have something appropriate.”

I chose a long black dress; it wasn’t good, but it was the best among them anyway.

I headed to the living room, wondering about the reason for this strange matter. I scanned the corners of the place, which contained unfamiliar people in formal suits, giving me an idea of what might be happening. An old man with a head full of white hair was sitting in front of my father, who did not look much older than him. On the other side was a strange young man with a large build, exuding an aura of arrogance.

I sighed painfully, asking God to be wrong about my suspicion.

My mother interrupted me, extending a tray of tea. She ordered me with her eyes to serve them.

I stepped forward carrying the tray under their watchful eyes. I bowed to the young man who shot me a terrifying glance that froze the blood in my veins, making me tremble in place, which made the sound of the cups echo around. I quickly passed him and headed to the old man, who looked at me with a wide smile that only made me more nervous.

I finished distributing the tea cups, then sat on the couch opposite them, waiting for what might happen next.

The old man sipped his tea and then put it down on the small table in front of him. He raised his eyes towards me, smiled kindly, and addressed my father.

“You surely know the reason for our visit today. Asking for your daughter’s hand for our son and coveting your lineage.”

I felt a lump in my heart as soon as I heard that sentence. They didn’t even bother to inform me about my engagement. I raised my gaze to my father and mother, who clearly looked happy. At that moment, I knew my fate was sealed and that nothing would change except a divine miracle.

My mother chuckled then, looking at the old man.

“We are honored to be relatives of the Salvatore family.”

The man replied gratefully, “We want to hear the girl’s opinion.”

All eyes turned towards me. I looked at my father, who was shooting warning looks that seemed to pierce through my body. I searched my mother’s eyes for a glimmer of hope, but her gaze was worse than my father’s. I clenched my dress with my fists, trying to hold back tears from falling, and whispered in a faint voice:

“Do… do what you think is right.”

The man and my parents laughed with relief. I raised my eyes towards that young man who was looking at me in a strange and disturbing way.

I excused myself before hearing any reply and headed to my room. I closed the door and let my tears flow freely. I had been doing everything they ordered literally; everything. I was a toy they moved to get money, but I never expected them to control my future as well.

After a while, I heard the door open. It was my father. He said angrily,

“What is this behavior you just showed? What will they say about us now?”

I looked at him with tears filling my eyes.

“I really don’t want to marry him.”

“Thank God he accepted you. Do you know who he is? He is the eldest son of the Salvatore family, the richest businessmen in Italy. Do you know what this means? He is filthy rich, an unmissable opportunity to get out of this miserable life.”

I answered him with agitation and anger.

“Why should it be at the expense of my happiness? Why must I always be sacrificed?”

My father’s face changed, and he grabbed my hair until my eyes met his.

“I don’t want complaints, okay? I already took my money. You will marry him, and the wedding will be in two days.”

He released my hair and left, slamming the door forcefully, making me jump from my place.

Now

I was sitting, waiting for what they called my husband, to enter the wedding hall. I drifted in my thoughts again, recalling my miserable childhood when I was like a beggar sent by her father to beg or sell tissues. I started remembering the pitying looks from people; some received me with insults and curses, others with looks of sorrow and regret, and both were bad. A hot tear fell from my eye, almost burning my cheek. I smiled bitterly, wondering to myself what if this person was my salvation, what if it was the beginning of a happy and prosperous life? … And what if he was like them and I was just trying to deceive myself with these words?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. I turned my gaze to the source of the sound and found my mother approaching me elegantly.

“Katia, our beautiful bride.”

My mother said with a side laugh, then stopped when my tears ruined the makeup on my face.

She frowned again and yelled at me angrily, then said while holding some makeup containers to put on me,

“You ruined your makeup now. You always cause trouble.”

I stormed angrily, snatching the makeup containers and throwing them on the ground to shatter them.

“I won’t put them on. I don’t want them, and I don’t want this marriage in the first place.”

My mother’s eyes widened at my reaction, then she raised her hand to slap my face. I closed my eyes, waiting for her hand to reach my cheek, but I felt nothing. I slowly opened my eyes to see my mother’s hand hanging in the air, held by a man’s hand — my so-called husband. She released her hand and smiled foolishly.

“Heh, I was preparing her to go out.”

“Signora Ariana, didn’t they tell you that Kasper Salvatore does not allow anyone to harm his wife, even if she is his mother?”

My mother continued smiling foolishly, stammering in her words until he gestured for her to leave. She obeyed, and we were left alone in the room.

I was shocked by what he did but didn’t want to show it to him. I spoke without looking at him,

“Your name is Kasper, then!”

He said mockingly while fiddling with the makeup on the table,

“Is it possible that my wife doesn’t know my name?”

I answered, looking at his reflection in the mirror,

“I don’t want this marriage. I don’t want to marry you.”

The arrogance and coldness returned to his face again. He pulled me by the wrist, shook his hand in my hair, and brought my face closer to him. He clenched his teeth and said sharply,

“You don’t have the luxury of choice. My grandfather chose you as my wife.”

My heartbeat quickened in fear of his look. I freed my head from his grip. He added coldly while turning his back,

“Come on, they are waiting for us.”

I jumped from my place while he extended his hand for me to hold. I did, and we headed to the hall where the guests were. We walked on a long wooden path. I stared at the elegantly dressed guests. A group of men in formal suits with sharp features caught my attention.

We walked until we reached the end of the walkway where there was a long table headed by the officiant. We sat at one end of the table while the witnesses sat beside us. My parents took the role of witnesses. As for him, the old man and another young man were assigned this role.

The officiant started the usual marriage rituals until he announced that we were officially husband and wife.

The attendees came forward to congratulate us. Then the young man assigned as witness came, hugged Kasper, and then approached me with a smile. He bowed elegantly, congratulating me,

“Congratulations to you, newlyweds.”

He left to continue the party with the other young men.

At the end of the ceremony, we headed to Kasper’s house, where I was to stay from now on. The journey was truly long as his house was located a bit outside the city. After a while, we arrived at his house, or rather his private palace.

I drifted a little in front of the palace gate. A mocking smile appeared on my face. Just two days ago, I was staying in a house that resembled a shack, and now I was going to live in this palace. I almost swear fate is preparing me for a shock soon.

I was brought back from my thoughts by a feminine voice welcoming me. I turned my gaze to the source of the voice and found a woman at the palace entrance smiling at me. From her clothes, I guessed she was a maid. I returned the smile and then entered.

The place had a modern style, consisting of white and gold furniture. I then followed Kasper to the room. It was a luxurious room dominated by black with a little gray. I stood in the middle of the room like a fool, not knowing what to do, while he was removing his watch. As if he sensed my distraction, he turned to me sharply and said,

“I’ll go take a shower. Change your clothes and go to sleep.”

He went into the bathroom while I began removing my makeup first. Then I started undoing my hairstyle, which contained hundreds, if not thousands, of hairpins. Then I started undressing until I was almost completely naked. I went to the wardrobe to look for sleepwear but couldn’t remember that I hadn’t brought any clothes.

I started cursing myself for putting me in this predicament. How could I forget something like that? I sighed in exhaustion and then decided to wear Kasper’s clothes. That was the only solution I found.

I went to his wardrobe, chose a gray shirt and black pants, and quickly put them on before he came out and saw me naked.

When I finished, I heard the bathroom door open. Kasper came out wet, brown hair dripping water onto his bare upper body, twisting a white towel around his lower part.

I let out a loud scream, embarrassed and stammering,

“Wh-why aren’t you wearing clothes? You’re not alone in the room.”

He raised an eyebrow and answered with surprise after noticing what I was wearing,

“There’s a mouse wearing them.”