𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 - Cinderella AU

XXXI - i still believe in destiny

xxxi.

Mid July, 1789,

"A LITTLE TO THE RIGHT PLEASE," ISADORA spoke, her eyes fixed on the wide gleaming looking glass as Lucy adjusted the silver bejewelled hair comb—attached to a gorgeous wave of her floor length tulle wedding veil—onto the middle of Isadora's hairdo.

The tulle encapsulated the elegance of the wedding gown, the distinct white color of the dress—arranged by the Queen mother of Angria—embodied Isadora's frame and gleamed under the lights illuminating the chambers. The dress was a cacophony of full sleeved white charmeuse—layers of it underlined with tulle at the skirts—cinched into gorgeous gathers at her waistline. The started from and gathers covered the bust of the dress in abstract lines, the square neckline sporting the curve of her breasts and the glittering diamond jewelry resting at her neck. There were placements of tiny pearls sewn into the dress, each far away from each other and providing a certain glow to the entire ensemble.

The full sleeves of the gown stopped just over her wrists, the sleeve ends cut and hemmed in shape of a beautiful triangle each, covering the top of her hands.

"Merci," Isa smiled as Lucy finished adjusting the veil to her required liking.

The girl had seemingly healed from her ailment over the course of her treatment with the royal physician, and though there were still days when the girl needed to rest hours out, her gradual progress made Isadora be thankful of yet so many things she had been granted in life. The maid curtseyed and smiled at Isa.

"Let me fetch your wedding bouquet, my lady."

And then keeping her eyes low, she walked out backwards and exited the room, a bright excitement playing on the girl's departing face.

"You look like a dream, my dear," The fairy godmother spoke into the silence then, as Isadora ran her hands gently over the bust of her dress.

The old fairy, it seemed, was her only attendant at present.

The night sky outside was glittering with stars-from the glimpses she caught from the open window in her palace chambers-though the sun had gone down merely an hour ago. The fire ball's departure transformed the sky into an artwork of jewels, and on a night such as this one—the night of her wedding—she could almost feel the stars glitter for her.

The entire royal family—consisting of the Queen mother, her husband to be, and of course, Archie-were all already at the church, alongside all the guests that were invited, leaving Isadora at the palace with a plethora of attending maids to aid her in getting ready, with the addition of a royal carriage waiting outside to take her to her wedding.

As per Queen Ariana's guidance, Isa had learned that this was Angrian tradition, for a princess-to-be—or rather, Queen-to-be, in her case—got ready for the wedding in solitude, without any of the family or guests getting a glimpse of how the bride looks like in her dress and hair before she walked down the aisle.

Isadora hadn't really immersed herself in the thought of the tradition when the Queen mother had explained, for her only concentration had been on reveling in the company of the woman herself. It seemed to Isa, that ever since her having to leave the Duke's estate for the Angrian palace because of a riot at her gates, she had been utterly confused and enamored at every time the Queen mother had spoken to her.

For someone who was supposed to have hated Isadora after what she had done, the Queen had accepted her back with open arms and Isa had sobbed in her embrace, trying and failing to say all that she had wanted to. It hadn't mattered to the royal—nothing Isa had done had mattered to the royal—when she had heard of the annulment and was convinced, by her son and King, that all was going to be as it should have been.