The Bride

Darkness. The one true fear for her. She sat alone in the corner, shivering with unease as the sun faded into the sky. She shook harder as the sun got lower...lower...lower until it vanished. The moon filling the space but not carrying any warmth for her. Dread slowly crept into her. Why was she so scared? Why? It was just darkness. Darkness. Void of light. Lost of warmth.

The hard smooth floor was no longer cold, her fear taking control of her body. It was terrifying for her. She grew up in the dark, but this darkness was different. Something seemed to lurk in the corner opposite from her. She trained her eyes on that spot not daring to close them and let sleep overwhelm her. The presence moved from one corner to another slowly stalking towards her the moon revealing a pointed polished shoe. It took another step with a hard clack a wall of dust surrounding its foot. No one had ever visited her before. They simply would slide the food under the door having no care if it would spillover leaving nothing edible to consume. Her gut tightened with the wisped thought. She missed the warmth of fresh bread and warm stew on cold days such as this one. How the decadent richness of the thick beef stew would simmer the entire day until the chunks of beef would be so tender it dissolved on your tongue. The carrots and potatoes soft but flavored with the juices of beef and spices soaked into the vegetables. Barely a hint of red aged wine was splashed into the stew creating a whole new experience.

The man drew her distracted mind. Curiosity blocking out her fear for a brief second. What did he want? What was he doing here? She didn’t dare speak. To ask the questions that weighed on her mind. Her shivering stopped. Her body recognizing him as no threat as far as she knew. He was taking slow steps towards her, his steps softer now that she knew of his presence. The air seemed to drop even colder her breath coming out like smoke. Her eyes widening as she beheld the man’s crisp black shirt as he drew closer towards her. And closer. His face was finally revealed to her as he was now under the moonlight. Tan perfect skin, these cold calculating green eyes, a face sculpted by a famous artist-she couldn’t remember his name and she knew she wouldn’t remember without help- and curly tendrils of black hair adorned the top of his head. She was suffocated by his beauty, he seemed fictitious. A god that was banished from the heavens. The slight movement of his hands sent her into a frenzy. Her heart rate speeding up and her hands clutched her head out of instinct. He was going to lay his hand on her. Her fear was back as her curiosity was no longer present. Adrenaline kicked in leaving her cowarding in the corner.

“You thought I would hit you?“, the man said to her softly a swishing of fabric following his voice. Her arms covered her eyes, but she was too petrified to remove them and answer his question. “Can you even talk?” In all honesty, she has no idea if she could. Her voice had been unused since the day she entered this prison. Not daring to speak a word to anyone. It is not as if anyone wanted to hear it or asked a question. They simply yelled and lashed out with their hands. So she did what she did best, she curled up into a ball cowering into herself praying he wasn’t like the rest of the men she has met. She flinched as he laid a hand on her head giving a gentle pat and squeeze to her arm. Her heart slowed down but it still was faster than normal. Body function seems to stop, her breathing, her nerves, her brain, everything stopped. She held her breath. Holding it in her lungs until it burned, her eyes watering with the exerted effort. She gasped for air as she took in big gulps of the cool air. The man gently shook her asking, “Are you okay?” Was she okay? Today was an unusual day. He was here...giving gentle caresses to her still body. The darkness seemed to shudder in his presence as he asked her. She shook her head side to side as slow as she could manage with him picking up her answer. “Take my hand”, he whispered in her ear. Her arms were securely around her head. Trust was far beyond her mind. Thoughts of his kindness swirled around her whirlpool of emotions as she slid down the stairs of fear. Her mind not making sense. A black hole swept everything up. Memories of the past kicking up the whirlpool to emerge victorious on beating the kind thoughts of the man. Trust was gone from her vocabulary. Thrown into the black hole of no return. It would never make an appearance as far as she knew. She did not trust herself to trust again. Breathe. Breathe. Don’t get trapped in the rabbit hole as you always do, she told herself. But she now felt trapped. He noticed her discomfort as he removed her arms from her head for her distracted mind couldn’t comprehend what he was doing. He pulled away slowly grasping her cheeks in his warm hands. “I will be there soon enough my love.” The world stopped as she stared into his soul. His once cold eyes sparked with life as her body gave up on fighting awareness and slowly drifted off the piercing green eyes imprinted in her soul.

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She woke up to the sound of the church bells. Loud and clear to sound the beginning of a wedding between two aristocrat families. The bell only being used once or twice a year for only aristocratic weddings. All she knew it was for the Bixon’s and Matthews’ families, and that the two father’s formed an arrange marriage between son and daughter. Miss. Bixon was going to be Mrs. Matthews within minutes now. The bells signaled the bride’s arrival making it as grand and loud as they could make it. But one bell triumphed above all. The golden one. It was soft but strong generating the excitement of everyone. It was for the royal family. Whether or not the marriage was accepted by the crown or not it was to be used if you even had a drop of royal blood within you. Regardless of status. Bastards rejoiced in this. This was the only royal law they had to follow, and it was one of the grandest. People flocked whenever they heard it, and fought to even catch a glimpse of the bride. But she never had too. Her prison gave her a perfect view to which she can only imagine herself in that same wedding dress as she watched the bride grasp her father’s hand. Visibly the bride was nervous. Giving uneasy smiles to the crowd her father giving her a firm squeeze to smile brighter and look happier. To avoid backlash the bride did as her father asked.

The large wooden doors swung shut as they passed through them. People were still waiting until the married couple came out. The groom always wore a fine suit of black, and gold shoulder pads. The royalty being able to wear any color they desired most wore a deep blue to signal their status of royalty. A few moments later they walked out hand and hand. The man was not a catch, but the bride was stunning. The groom’s face was pudgy his smile yellow and stained from smoking. Gossip said that he was barely twenty-five but he seemed to be forty at least. His belly protruded from the suit as he laughed at something his father said making the bride stand awkwardly to his side. She was scared of the bride. The man bought her off her father, instead of marrying into a less delusional family. Now the two father’s whisked the newlyweds into a carriage the groom’s father helping the bride up while caressing her body. He whispered something to her before he slammed the door. It was a disturbing sight but reality all the same. The crowd dispersed as the couple disappeared the only entertainment now gone. She still watched the crowds of workers and beggars walking up and down the street taking scraps of food from the floor and the garbage that had been sitting for weeks now.

Another tray of food was thrown skidding farther than normal. They were angry. They were angry at someone. But she curled up further into herself trying to forget about their anger, how their eyes would glow with fury. Whether a prisoner spit on a shoe or someone tried escaping, they would be furious either way. Keys clanked as a metal bar door was open. She couldn’t see for her door was pure metal with no gap but the bottom to fit the skinniest of metal holding sludge-like food. Screaming followed. A high-pitched one that bothered her ears to where she held them tightly. The woman was fighting the guards when everyone knew it was a retarded idea. It had been years since someone had escaped these confines the only way out was to die by hanging or an axe through the neck. Either way a gruesome death for the sake of entertainment. To show that this world was cruel. Everyone was allowed their way out but she remained here...beyond what was considered humane. She felt like crying but she knew that crying accomplished nothing.

Many moons past. They noticed immediately when she stopped eating. As she tried to kill herself physically by starvation. Who knew that she was in here? know if anyone waited. A mother. Father. Brother. Sister. Anyone? Anything? So she made herself malnourished, so hungry that it drove her to delirium. The guards quickly captured her, her fragile body too weak to run fast enough. She was forced to eat, they shoved anything making her gag multiple times only for everything to come back up later in the night.

She went to her memories to repress the nauseous feelings. She remembered the many that had come and gone from her cell. Her old cellmate tried escaping, but she remained in her corner not willing to help in his departure. He said that she was the one to give him up for he was caught within seconds of the door creaking open.

People learned after years that they hear everything. Some are in here as spies were her only theory, or the echoes were carried straight to executioner’s ears. The palace held many secrets none had ever stayed buried. Most wives killed because they simply said another man was more handsome than her husband. But the men thrived on making women feel incompetent about being a good wife, so many attempt suicide or disappear without a trace. Screams filled the air once again. Her door was swung open the hinges of the metal chunk groaning in protest. Two clean-shaven men filled the door frame. The red uniform to mark them as guards. She wasn’t scared. She was petrified with fear. They rushed towards her picking her up by her forearms. She knew she was scrawny no flesh to give herself a squishiness to her body. Not missing a moment they dragged her towards the door. No fight was fought as they brought her up the stairs stopping midway. She didn’t notice the bag made out a rough cloth until one of them brought it over her head tightening it around her neck.

“Move your feet”, the one to the left commanded. She tried but they were moving too fast for her to comprehend. Her feet shuffled as quickly as she could managed. She has sat in the corner for years now. It was no exaggeration. She shifted to grab her food and that was the only movement she deemed necessary for survival. There were some days freedom pulled at the heartstrings. Longing moments of fresh air clouded her mind constantly.

The guards pulled her along their grip slacking. Whispers were heard from all around her. Most likely servants rushing to fill out their tasked stopping to gaze at her. She felt their judgements as they each jabbed themselves into her soul as she heard every last one. It usually wouldn’t bother her but today was wrong. Everything was off. They started going up a set of stairs. She was lifted off her feet as they dangled her by her arms. It hurt but she didn’t dare say a word. Not one letter was going to leave past her lips. They placed her down like a glass doll, leading her down what she presumed to be a hallway. Then they stopped, a door was unlocked and a slight whoosh alerted her a door was opened. The guards nudged her inside gripping the bag and some of her hair with it. She stifled her cry of pain as they noticed their mistake and quickly let go of them both.

“Use the room as you would like”, the same guard that spoke earlier said. They turned around swiftly leaving her to the new room.

Overwhelmed could not describe her emotions. Drowning, clawing for air, suffocating, she had no idea how to feel. She was confused in a fury of emotions. A wild horse trying to buck her off its back.

She surveyed the room. It was a pale pink and white with swirls of gold. The bed was the size of her cell two fluffed up pillows laid flat, the floor was sleek dark wood and not plain stone. Her bare feet felt odd as she struggled to walk by herself. The weakness of her limbs soon caught up to her as she managed to shuffle a couple of feet. A plush white rug caught her landing as she collapsed. A soft sigh passed her lips as the soft material grazed her exposed skin making her curl up on her side. Her eyes slowly closed as the cozy fur told her to sleep. So she let the peaceful moment lull her into slumber.

Soft humming jolted awareness. It was a lullaby of a sort, one to hush a crying child in the middle of the night. This made her tremble as she has not heard a voice as caring as the mystery woman in years. She laid quietly listening, emerging herself into the melody. Then...it stopped. She heard soft footsteps slowly come towards her curled up body. A light push was applied to her back sending her forward slightly. But she didn’t move. They tried again applying more force. Cracking her eyes open a hair she saw a bright purple fabric that was not there before she fell asleep. She opened her eyes wider to get a glimpse of who the random person was.

“You have to get up m’lady. Today is the big day!” The woman was hyper. It radiated off of her but it was fake. Her voice seemed to crack as she said “big day”. Was she finally being executed and the woman is one of the soon to be spectators. She couldn’t decide whether or not to comply with her request. She did ask nicely. With a newfound calmness, she picked herself up into a sitting position. The rug had a dark outlining of her body. She could make out individual strands of hair most the end was split in two.

“Can you stand up please?” The answer to that was going to be given. She stood her legs wobbling like a newborn calf. The nice lady grabbed one of her arms as she started to lead her cautiously. They made it to the bathroom where the bronze tub was filled with steaming water.

“The maids were here earlier to set everything up. Now you need to strip”, it was a demand. The woman left no room for argument. She embarrassingly removed the only fabric, a dark gray straight dresslike cloth fell to the ground. She was helped into the bathtub, the crystal clear water turning murky immediately. The lady ignored it and picked up some soap as she started to scrub her arms.

“My name is Malaya. I’m here to guide you for as long as I am told to do so”, this new information intrigued her. Malaya, the first woman she had seen in years. She realized she never looked at her features. Looking up she saw a young girl, rosy cheeks, plump lips, brown bright eyes, and almost black hair. Malaya’s skin was a rich brown that reminded her of dark chocolate, and the purple dress just made it stand out. Overall she was breathtaking, a perfect match for anyone.

Malaya sensed her gaze but did not acknowledge it. But she continued to roam over Malaya’s physical attributes until she wonders ‘what do I look like?’ After imagining all the endless possibilities Malaya politely told her to get out and wrapped her in a white robe. Now they went back to the room as she still struggled to walk on her own. Malaya was patient with her not rushing nor yelling to hurry up. They were literally taking baby steps to get to the bathroom to wherever they were heading. She was sat down on a plush bench in front of a white desk with two small gold drawers. It was in the same room as the rug her body print still there. Her breath was uneven due to the intense labor. Malaya started to go through her hair with a pointed contraption she had never seen before.

“It’s a hairbrush. Trust me it won’t hurt you. It is made out of-“, the door opened interrupting her next phrase. The two guards from earlier walked in. They stopped before her.

“Is everything going as planned?” They asked harshly. She turned around to get a good look at them, but Malaya was still in mid-stroke with the hairbrush as she called it.

“Yes, she has been scrubbed clean, now it is on to the small details like brushing her hair and getting her outfit on. No more than a few moments”, Malaya answered smoothly as she continued with her brushing. Still, she turned to see who it was she was dealing with. The men were already staring their eyes bulging out as they made eye contact.

“Um...ahem if you’ll excuse us then”, the same man as before talked. But she knew the guards were twins. They had the same everything but one had a larger forehead than the other. They seemed young in spirit but had grey hair sprouting from their jaw and head. Wrinkles littered their face as they talked. They both stared for a second longer before they turned on their heel and marched out.

“Dear, may I ask you what your favorite color is?“, Malaya asked her tenderly. She shrugged delicately. Malaya gave her a faint smile. Letting her feel reassured that it was okay that she forgot the colors of the rainbow. Malaya told her to stay put going off to where she knew her bed was. Malaya soon emerged with a dress. It was pure gold on the bodice as it dripped down to the knees to the skirt, the rest of the dress a pure dark black. It was beautiful. The long sleeves were black as some of the gold from the bodiced seemed to leaked past and left small rivers of gold. Her shoulders and clavicles were exposed to the air. A shiver ran down her spine not use to them being uncovered. Malaya smiled as she went back and forth to her bedroom a cream-colored box in her hand each time. The boxes got smaller and smaller. She stopped when she brought out the sixth one as they all were stacked up on the floor. The smallest one was open revealing gold swirls with studs of diamonds with every curl. The next one was plain gold bracelets intertwined to create an X shape. Malaya slowly pulled out jewelry and tiaras from the one that took the most effort to bring out. The last one was the size of the desk.

“Open it”, Malaya told her. So she eagerly took the box off the desk sitting it on her lap. The box was smooth reminding her of her once silky skin. Her hands were now rough her skin dry and calloused. She did not feel like most girls, they felt pretty and looked it too. They would gossip and dress up in beautiful dresses. But she couldn’t remember anything relating to her childhood. All she remembers was a man in all black before she knew it she was in the cell. Alone. In the dark. Full of unsteadiness. She had the bad kind of butterflies constantly. They ate away at her and she knew eventually that it would be too much to handle. Malaya compared tiara’s settling on the grandest of them all. Placing the other ones back in the box. Only two remained. Both held necklaces. One was an extravagant necklace weighing at least five pounds. The other was much simpler a simple diamond heart. The extravagant one made her wince in anticipation of it hanging it around her neck. It would snap her neck in half. She shook her head wildly when Malaya put the plain one away.

“What you don’t like it?“, it not that. It was a death trap. One full of diamonds as everything else was. Diamond and gold. Diamond and Gold. Diamond. Gold. Diamond. Gold. Everything was lustrous. She could make do without all these unnecessary pleasantries. Malaya took her silence as an answer as she replaced the necklaces. Now her attention was back on the box as her hands unconsciously rubbed it feeling nothing catch her skin. She lightly pulled up the lid. See-Through white silk fell out on her thighs. It was a veil. Tears sprung to her eyes. Why? Why was there a veil? Why was she given this?

“Isn’t it just lovely? You’re getting married. Don’t worry the groom is said to be a very alluring fellow. He may even be the devil with how he looks, oh those weren’t my words but the words of others. Us maids have a long network of gossip. Not in these walls of course. Haha, one day...” She zoned out all noises. Marriage. Was she even old enough to get married? Her nerves came to life. Hands started to shake. Sweat dripping down. The room became unfocused. She grasped her hands together in a tight grip. Her claws sank into her palms creating little moons red seeping past the punctures. Panic consumed her, reason and logic withdrew, shrinking back into the depths of her mind. Breathe. Breathe. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. A hand patted her arm forcing her back into reality.

“You okay sweetheart?” She wasn’t okay. Nowhere near okay. Nothing was right at this moment. Malaya shouldn’t be as calm as if she was going to church. She wasn’t okay with this but yet she nodded. Malaya gave her another pat.

“Time to get ready” Her heart sank hearing those words.

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The whole castle was in the room. She still was perched on the bench everyone fusing over every detail. If she moved one millimeter they reprimanded her. Her scalp was raw with all the tugging. Her hair was in a braided bun. A thick braid went across the left side of her head leading to the bun, a few strands were left to frame her face as they added little gems through her hair. They meticulously did her face with weird things. One maid kept poking her eye out with a thin wooden stick with black pigment. Another dusted her face with white powder making her sneeze multiple times. The maids rushed but took their time as they kept whispering its almost time. The sun had fallen hours ago. She wasn’t getting tired, the anticipation eating away at her. headache was forming as they bustled around her creating a disturbance. Before she knew it, it was time for the dress. She forgot that she was still in a white towel. It somehow clung to her body as they peeled it away from her.

“No stockings. Dress and shoes. Accessories of course”, she was a less educated maid but the maids stood me up and immediately started to put the dress on me. It slid on easily. The dress was still as beautiful now than it was in the morning. It was slowly tightened inch by inch as the whoosh of strings. Little particles of gold floated. The friction causing a disturbance.

“Your far too skinny my dear. All bones and no meat to feed the hungry”, if the maid meant to make a joke it only served to disturb her. That’s cannibalism she starkly said in her head. It’s against the law. The maid smiled like a child given candy. It was not funny so she sat there as still as possible as another woman poked her eye the millionth time in the last few moments. She remembered clearly Malaya saying it would only take a few moments but days have passed. She was ready to die and by old age. The guards walked in as they continued to tighten the bodice.

“Time”, a one-word command was spoken. The maids rushed around. One grabbing a tiara the one running to the bedroom, the others doing finishing touches to the look. The guards were inpatient. One tapped his foot the other folding his arm closely to his body. Odd guards acting so relaxed. Most were like brainwashed statues. She didn’t waver her gaze as they made eye contact. His eyes were serene a sense of pride held beneath them. Pain flared up. Malaya had struck her with the tiara. It was jostled around making her head hear even more.

“Shoes”, someone said as they laid them down before her. Malaya held her arms as she stepped into them carefully. They were black slippers with a gold bow to match the dress. The earning and necklaces were next to be placed.

“Done”, Malaya huffed out. “Be cautious she is still delicate. She can’t walk fast and is not as strong as she should be. Now boys take her.”

She was offered an arm by the smaller forehead one. She placed her hand in the crook of his arm. They walked slowly as she lost her balance multiple times. It would take some time before they could make it to their destination. Noticing this they still took their time. But she was finding a rhythm. Step. Step. Step. It was slowly coming back to her. A natural stride surfaced to her as they walked quicker. She was able to survey the castle. The walls were all painted a light blue, silver trimming it. Plush chairs and tables scattered everywhere. The floor was polished, a light brown color under the thick coat of clear paint. The odd part was no one walked the hallways. A few cats wandered about in search of a mouse creating screeches as their nails scratched the floor. They scurried away as they noticed them, forgetting about their next meal.

She embarrassedly slipped on the slippery smooth floor. Her slippers having no grip to help hold her upright. They arrived at the staircase, she knew it was going to be a rough descent but she still tried. One of the guards ended up carrying her with their arms under her legs and one wrapped around her waist. It was traumatizing but necessary to get down to the other floor. At least there was no one to give her an odd stare or question what were they doing. She quietly let him carry her down the stairs. He went down quickly making gravity catch them forward a few times before he slowed down a bit before speeding up again. She was back on her feet the guard immediately offering her his arm which she declined and started to walk again. She stopped with an epiphany. Where are we going exactly? The guards noticed immediately overtaking her small lead with a few strides. Her stride was not as long and graceful as theirs. Her legs struggled a bit but she was able to slowly get used to the speed. Her thighs protested under the stress she was putting them through. It was a rough walk but she pushed through it. The castle slowly grew darker the farther they traveled. Candles were unlit as they passed through them. Shadows from the corner creep towards them. Closer and Closer as each candle blew out. No wind drifted through the halls and no one was here to blow them out. The only explanation was unreasonable and made every man who claimed to experience such things be labeled as a lunatic.

The guards halted. Two glass doors twice their height and quadruple their width blocked the path. The doors intimidated her more so than the guards themselves. The glass was crystal clear, the door handles having no hands prints left behind, the doors seemed radiant as they stood proud. The guards tainted the handles as they each gripped one easing them open for fresh air to pour into the castle. It felt nice after the workout she went through as it cooled off her flushed face her temperature dropping. The dress was a tad too tight as her chest had trouble moving in and out. It felt as if the world was getting hazy. Her eyes not focusing. But she recomposed herself taking deep lushes breaths. She expanded her lungs as far as she could squeezing every drop out after the deep inhale. She switched between her mouth as it dried out making her need for water top over the tiredness that loomed over her body.

She put all her suffering away all her attention going to the guards and the outside world. They were on the move once again as she trailed behind them, the guard not offering his arm. The pace was quickened, but she could not speed it up this time. They slowly pulled away from her to a carriage attached to some large horses. It was surprisingly white and gold, the black theme is broken. Even the horses were black. Maybe it was a tradition that the transportation carrying the birde must be white or something like that. She had no idea, this was her first contact with the outside since the day she was put in the cell.

The horses seemed ready to go as their hoves clapped against the stone. A man sat atop the carriage a small ledge making him able to perch with the reins to the majestic beasts. The wind picked up stroking the hair of everything. But her hair remained still. As the countless pins held her hair securely in place the maid’s hard work paying off. The moon shone brighter than the moons before. The stars twinkling in sync. It seemed that everything was ready for a wedding she did not want to happen.

The guards swiftly helped her into the carriage slamming the doors shut. She didn’t jump the noises of cell doors slamming shut were worse than that. That was just an annoying buzzing to her ears instead of a bullet wound. She spotted two horses behind her it was as if the appeared out of thin air.

They easily gripped the saddle and hoisted themselves up. The man who had control of the carriage gave a hearty ‘hrjah’ making the horses scrambled into a run. None of the windows but the back one was open. White thick curtains not letting anyone see in or out. Rays of the moon beamed into the carriage from behind her. She was able to run her hands along the plush bench, much like the one she sat in during the process of getting ready. But it was covered in a velvety material. Pieces of fuzz coming off on her hands as she ran her hands along the top. She turned around to get a view of the city she was in but the horses moved her too quickly the scenery flowing by. So she turned back around only to notice a body like a figure sitting in the opposite corner she sat. It reminded her of the man in all black that lurked in the corner of her cell. Butterflies released into her stomach ad they began eating away. Her eyelids open and closed rapidly to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. Her ears rang as she listened closely to hear any sound. A sigh, tap of a foot, a whoosh of clothing. Every part of her senses were in overdrive. A hint of cologne drifted to her nose. The smell was unrecognizable, but it was pleasant to say the least. He smelled expensive. Probably a politician of sorts or the fiftieth generation of a wealthy family. Maybe even royalty if she was dreaming. The idea occurred to her. “Maybe this is a dream. I’m having a mental breakdown and the doctors are trying to wake me up. The cologne is the scent of one of the doctors. Like my mother, father, even brothers and sisters weep for my return any day now. Perhaps my husband and children cried for me. But that’s too much wishful thinking,” he thought kept going and going about scenarios as she ignored the man in the corner.

“So you choose to ignore me?“, the man in the corner spoke. She was shaken out of her thoughts she whipped her head to squint at him. ” We are going to share a bed after all of this.” The groom was the one who sat across from her. None of his features were clear to her but hers were to him. Maybe he didn’t like what he saw so he decided to speak to her. She remained silent her lips sealed shut. She licked them graciously to relieve it of the dryness. She heard some shuffling as a metal canteen landed next to her. “It’s merely water. I promise you that.” Of course, she had no idea what double meaning his words had. Out of pure want, she quickly grabbed the canteen popping open the cork with a satisfying ‘pop’. She put it up to her lips letting the liquid drip onto her lips before tipping it into her mouth to quench her thirst. She made sure to take small sips at a time to not overload her body with the introduction of water into her body. It would only create more want for the substance. The canteen was half empty when she was done sipping as she places it next to her, making sure that it stood upright. She looked in the man’s general direction giving him a slight nod to show her appreciation. He shifted once again his feet hitting the floor with a hard thud. He let out a hearty sigh as she remained as still as a tree trunk. Not daring to move a muscle with a stranger in the corner.

The moon was covered up by thick dark clouds as the weather decided to take a turn for the worse. The once calm breeze thrashed against the carriage making it sway. A whirlwind of leaves smacked against the back window making her flinch in surprise. The man started chuckling at her. Then the carriage stopped. The man stopped chuckling. Silence enveloped her ears. Neither moved. Not even the sound of an inhale nor an exhale came from either party. The doors swung open as the carriage driver greeted with a bow.

“Wheel has broken off your majesties. We’ve sent word already and another is in tow”, he politely said. A frustrated sound came from the man in the corner still cloaked in darkness.

“Why don’t we have a spare wheel, Pierre? You are supposed to be prepared, especially since Matilda predicted such weather tonight and the possibility that the wheel would break off. Well...it comes to say that you, my friend need to listen to your wife more often then you do your own self. We could have avoided such a rare occurrence of a wheel fleeing from the carriage, but you insisted on being an incompetent idiot. Now you better have the other one here as soon as this weather clears.” He said majesties, ignoring the stranger’s rant to the driver, she thought to herself of endless scenarios. Well, first of all, she had no idea of what his status was but he was probably connected to some part of the family, but if she was royalty why was she locked up in the first place?

“Yes Prince Eric”, the driver said as he closed the doors once again a harsh gust of wind flying around him into the carriage.

The crown prince was across from her. He was so nonchalant about it too. Like he was just some random person from the streets. Well, he might have been she had no thoughts about him until now. She had heard rumors of him being a stunning sun-kissed boy with every single part of his body being built by the gods. No one was brave enough to venture towards insults, it always complimented after compliment to get in good graces with higher officials, and if he somehow managed to hear these compliments, he would reward them greatly. She suddenly felt nervous. She wrung her hands together as they started to produce moisture. She felt eyes on her and more than one set. Ever so slightly she rotated to look out the back window. Small yellows orbs flashed through the dense forest. Small shadows floated as the creatures soaked from branch to branch. If she listens closely small echoes of the animal’s cry could be detected. Out of fear she turned away closing the curtain to leave them in complete solidarity.

“Did you really have to do that? I was enjoying the view of the soon to be bride. Don’t look so down my dear. Your husband is a gentleman when he wants to be.” Now she felt like crying, to go unwilling by screaming and kicking her way there. But the guards would surely overpower her and drag her as they did out of her cell. The Prince and her stayed in their spots until the driver opened the door the wind not so bold, gave a slight chill to the air. The driver blew into his hands before informing the Prince of the new carriage. The moonlight hit the corner he claimed seating of. No man was there when they both waited for a response.

The transportation this time was more extravagant than the last one. Hot tea waited inside actual lamps lit the inside and outside well enough to see the dust particles on the seats. The road held no imperfections the road as smooth as a baby’s bottom. She enjoyed sipping on the tea for the canteen that held water was gone with the crown Prince. A shame really. She possibly could have found her voice and asked him a question about her purpose of this marriage. The weather such as herself seemed unsure about it. It changed from uncaring to caring in seconds. From covering the moon raining downs water droplets and sending whirlwind of air, it seemed mother nature herself watched over her journey. The wheel breaking off was no accident but fate telling her to get out, to flee far away as soon as possible. But did she listen, no? She sat petrified and unsure of the idea of marriage. As she said once before she did not mind it but it was hard to swallow especially whole. She took it bit by bit, they were too small pieces to get through in time for the marriage ceremony.

She felt that the ride was the longest moment of her life. The driver had stopped many times to take a bathroom break leaving her alone. The weather was still atrocious as the wind picked up every now and again, and the droplets of water dropped heavier and faster. They were close to their destination the church’s light in the distance. The road turned bumpy as this road was too often used causing a terrible joy ride through the town. They stopped in front of an elegant tall white church. A bell sitting on top. The driver jumped off his perch and opened the door for the young miss. She was fascinated by the church it seemed more otherworldly like God truly speaks to the priests here than all the others she has seen. She only saw one her entire life, but that was beside the point. She was offered the arm of the driver. She accepted as the walked down the pathway leading inside the church. The rain stopped at that moment as she looked up, the dark stormy clouds still hung in the sky, looming over the moon. She continued to walk at a slow pace. What a bride does when she is walking...down the aisle. She wasn’t nervous, or excited, she was just there. She felt as if she was a bargaining chip between people, but she was no prize. Average, or below average was the only way to describe her, she thought. But the people around her saw a true beauty, one Aphrodite didn’t possess. But she did not know this. She has yet to see her physical features for there were no mirrors to show her reflection to her. The maids reassured her that she was beautiful to their eyes. They reminded her of the mothers of the loving bride as they wished them a stroke of good luck before their daughters leave with their husbands to go to the honeymoon. A caress to the cheek and they were off. The mothers always looked from afar and wept for they lost a daughter that day.

The driver pulled her along the walkway as her feet practically slid the entire way. The doors were made of colored glass. The gods all depicted with there own panel. Pluto drew her attention. He stood proud in his black toga. Horns growing out of his head a long tongue coming out of his mouth. Hands were more like talons. He had many names Hades, Lucifer, and the one for children, Beezlebub. Pluto was the one of her culture, the one parents scolded you by saying, “You better behave or the devil will take ya, and I won’t stop him,” it was harsh but it worked most of the time.

Many claimed the royal family obtained their status through Pluto himself since the first king was but a baker. But to pay the price of royalty they must sacrifice a young maiden until he claims their worth. All but one was sent back alive. The girl’s body was found floating in the river that they threw her in for she was drowned while some were buried alive. All they had to do was die carrying a special necklace. Most came back claiming they were not selected and went on with life. Others rambled on and on about the underworld, the many theories and myths erupting. Every year a new maiden is chosen, but soon he was tired of the frivolous hunt, so he made it every two years..three years..eventually

becoming twenty years. But his demands became more precise, very specific. The description matched one of a glass doll. As danty and cute as one, but deadly once broken. Very odd but the royal family slowly narrowed down each year until they thought they found a girl. They snatched her away from her parents at a young age using a poison to deteriorate her memories until time was right to use her. She was the final puzzle piece.

She couldn’t help but sympathize with the bride’s that went through death to save tradition. She knew she was doom and it was too late to turn around and try to sprint out. She was sure her legs couldn’t move fast enough but she was willing to try. Faint music graced her ears as they walked closer. Slowly creeping up to the double doors. Once they stood two steps away from the god stained doors it groaned open. People immediately stood, all the eyes were on her. The tiara felt heavier, her breathing ragged, the dress too tight, and her shoes were too silky. The bright lights made her squint to gaze into the guests eyes as the driver walked her down the aisle. What she would give to have her father walked her down the aisle. Even if he was selling her to Pluto himself she would do it. Unless he was a murder then she would pass on that thought. At least she held no memories of her parents, it would make the pain fly away faster and no new one would take it’s place. She couldn’t help but wonder where her family was as she has done before. People never treated her with kindness. The maids were told to be nice she could tell by their forced smiles and jealousy radiated from them. The driver was ordered to keep her protected why else was she commanded by him to stay put. She dared not to run in the rains me in such a fine dress. The opportunity for freedom was tempting but one she could not afford to take. The cold crept in as the wind picked up once more. She shook the dress leaving little for warmth.

The guest stared eagerly as they watched their sacrifice walk to her death. She was going to be killed whether or not she was returned. They had not spent years upon years to have her fail them. If she did not succeed now then they were doom. The wealth of Pluto would strike the Kingdom leaving the totals without powers and striping them of theirs titles of royalty. A civil war breaking out causing casualties of epic proportions. Under any circumstance was that to happen. They were all just happy their daughters weren’t the ones waking down the aisle, but a measly orphan whose parents were killed in a planned accident. They all quieted their thoughts focusing on the girl once again.

She had reached the small stair case that led to the priest and the orchestra that was to her right. The lights dimmed as a man emerged from behind the pope. It was the all black wearing man she had seen in her dreams. The only memory she had before she was in the cell. The last evidence of her past life or at least she hoped that. Everything was silent. The hair across strings stopped fizzling out to a small echo throughout the church. Few candles remained lit. The audience in pure darkness, the bride and groom illuminated perfectly to cast shadows. The groom took her hands in his as she stepped up to him.

“We are gathered here today...” She didn’t want to hear it. So she focused on her shoes. They were still so shiny even though she walked through mud to get here. Must be enchanted slipper of good luck or fortune, but that was implausible. Today was all terrible luck. She felt her hands be released to the priests as he flipped it to the palm side. A blade sliced across her hand. Blood spilled out into the floor as he took her future husband hand and did the same.

“NOW CLASP HANDS!“, they did as he yelled. The priest started a incantation. “I CALL UPON THE SKY. THE GROUND. THE AIR. BLESS THY CHILDREN OF GOD FOR ETERNITY. MAY THEIR BLOOD FLOW RED FOR YOU MOTHER EARTH. MAY THEIR LOVE PROVE TO THYSELVES TO NEVER SEEK ANOTHER’S COMFORT. FOR THEY BELONG TO EACH OTHER FOREVER. UNTIL DEATH DO THEY PART.”

She could have sworn she heard thunder crack venomously. They held their bloodied hands the groom’s grip a bit hard on the brides. The audience stood as they began walking down the aisle a trail of blood behind them.