The Unwanted Wedding

Chapter 17- The One in White

"A husband is what is left of a lover, after the nerve has been extracted. Marriage is a useless thing, life is more pleasurable without it. And married men are never so faithful as their foolish wives; they come only seeking a naughty row of heated nights, but they leave so much more..."

- Book of Encounters 

"A marriage is a private thing. It has its own wild laws, and secret histories, and savage acts, and what passes between married people is incomprehensible to outsiders. We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying, but what we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape."

- A mother's word

Reyna

I gazed thoughtlessly in the mirror, trying convulsively not to sigh, or cry, or show any emotion that might upset my mother. I've put my family through enough shame; I deserve this moment as much as I don't deserve their forgiveness.

I was only allowed to wear a sheer lace robe. White, of course. I wasn't allowed to dress until after my body was rinsed with water. I walked over and gazed out the window. It was going to be such a painfully beautiful day, it shattered my heart. My groom made me stay in his  room, as punishment I suppose. It was torture being in here, all I could think about is that crushed body and all that blood. So much blood. I felt tears weld, I couldn't help but to blame myself for Vincent's loss, without me he would have never left the masquerade so justly.   But it cost him greatly, and now my price has come.

"Reyna..." I turned to see Ms. Silvan, guilt shredded through me. "Your bath is ready, I'll prepare your dress." Her voice held no tone, but I could hear it. I could hear it so loudly it made my head ache. She stopped wearing powered wigs after...Ms. Silvan wore her golden hair in a swept up style, letting the long locks trail down her back.  She wore no make up other than the rogue on her lips. For once the ever-so-young mother looked aged and tired. Her pinkish lace underwear covered her arms up to her wrists, and it collared high in a cone shape around her neck. White gloves masked her long hands. Her undergown was white with shades of pink formations; it was modestly covering her cleavage.  The overgown mirrored the undergarment but in reverse, it was pink with white formations, and laced up with white ribbon and a pink bow. Though it had no sleeves, I never have seen her so covered. She barely even wore jewels. Simply pink pearled earrings and a brooch that had a large pink pearl framed by small white ones that draped then hung. She brushed passed me, and opened a paper parcel that contain my undergarment, then another than held my wedding dress. I couldn't look at it. I couldn't look at her.

"I'm sor-"

"I said your bath was ready, Reyna" She cut me off, and resumed what she was doing.

As I entered the room prepared for me to bath in, I glanced at the three women occupying it. My maids. Alma, Victoria and my mother's handmaid, now mine, Gabriella.  Mistress Gabriella has known our family since my mother was in her early stages of womanhood. My mother is reaching seven-and-thirty, so the woman must be at lest almost 50 or in her mid forties. Yet her hair still held it's light blonde-brownish colour, she wasn't young in neither mind nor body. Her eyes held lines around the greyish tinge of her iris. Her cheeks had sunken in. her lips held winkles on ether side. She could not walk at pace nor stay in domestic work for long. Her tall willowy body stood straight like a stick.  Her hair bunned high and tightly. Her buttoned shirted shift covered her, the color high yet flattened down on both sides.  Her undergown was black but hemmed with white. Her overgown was corseted and white, its wide sleeves were trimmed with black lace.

Alma too had her hair in a bun, but it was low and seemed more causative. Her undergown was a dirty crème colour with loose floral patterns. Its high tulip collar hid her neck.  Her overgown was high-waisted, it was trimmed with pinkish ribbon. It was white with a floral pattern of light green and pinkish flowers. Her sleeves were puffy. In her hands she held items; a bible, and a red rose in one and a white handkerchief in the other.