Must I Be Your Bride? - Chapter Twelve

It was as if the horror of all the horror movies I watched the last several days attacked me whole this one night. I lied on my bed with all the lights switched on, with all the horrid pictures of fear swinging back and forth in my mind. I was getting so tired of it that I ended up slapping the lamp on the nightstand to the floor. It landed on a rug and ended up sparking up a fire. Horrified, yet again, I laid out one of the blankets over it, getting a few burns on my fingers, but I was finally able to stomp it out before it expanded. I just sat there on the bed, coughing until the little smoke subsided. It seems like it was years before the sun finally made its way to the sky.

I did get knocks in the morning, but when I opened the door, I realized I was only left with a tray of breakfast on the floor. I gladly took it.

I didn’t eat though. For once, the oatmeal, the delicious pancakes, and even the sugar cookies didn’t appeal to me. So I place it on the empty nightstand - where the lamp used to be – and got back to having nothing to do but not think at all. I did try to look outside at the ocean, but I’d only be remembered by William’s eyes, so instead, I shut the curtains and crawled under the only thin cover that I didn’t burn. I was still wearing the short Ivory dress.

I would have short naps, but I’d quickly wake up before I can get to the dreaming part, too afraid to fade into a nightmare. Tomorrow I’ll be back in my home, with my family. Why wasn’t that satisfying enough?

When I went into the bathroom and looked myself in the mirror, my eyes were red and all worn out, taking my face and my hair with it. I turned on the shower and sunk into bathtub, wondering if anyone has ever accidentally drowned themselves in one. Not that I was considering that.

When the bathroom door opened I almost yelped, but quickly stopped myself when I realized it was only the maids. When they noticed how faltered I looked they watched me with sympathy.

"I’m afraid you forgot to take off your dress", the main maid said. Who knew that she could be so kind - remembering the time she threatened me?

No, I didn’t forget. I wanted to purposely ruin it, because for some reason, I blame it for the circumstances that happened yesterday. Before I could ask them to please leave, the maid turned off the water.

"We’re here to fix you up", she says.

I shook my head, the thought of eating dinner with the family only terrifying me.

"Tonight, William will announce your choice to the people," she explained.

I covered my face with my shivering hands, only shaking my head. She meant ‘his’ choice. "I request to miss it."

"I’m sorry, but that cannot be allowed. Matthew insists you be there."

Of course, Matthew, the one who made this hard for us in the first place.

Before they could start though, it only took a glimpse of my soaked ivory dress, and the craziest idea came into mind, one that, with action, would change everything, transform my life for the better or worse. But I was sure this was what I wanted, what I needed, to live.

"Dress me up as a bride", I ordered.

The maids exchanged confused glances for a moment, but then they smiled. And they listened to me, with no hesitation.

As they pinned my hair up in a loose attractive bun, as they put on my makeup, using colors they’ve never used before - crimson, white, black, glitter -, and they chose one of the many white and ivory wedding gowns from the dresser, my heart was racing, never calming down. I was scared, nervous, horrified, and anxious; it would never end. But I had made my choice, and I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t going to make the first mistake George and Nancy made. Who knew if William would even return to me? William was now, my life.

The maids didn’t ask how the lamp ended up on the ground, a few feet away from its destination, and I was glad they didn’t. They also made sure to treat my burns on my fingers with some relieving liquid, but they didn’t bandage it up, all of us knowing that bandaged fingers wouldn’t look good on a bride.

I was slipped into a heavy ivory satin wedding gown with a few swirling accents. It had an off-the-shoulder neckline and was slinky at the top, but flowed as it reached the floor.

They put a veil over my head, with the tail of it meeting the bottom of my dress, and then they pulled one of the two tails - the shortest one - over my face, giving me a weird patterned view of everything. A maid had left to get a bouquet of the red roses from the garden, like the one William gave me the first time we went out there, and held it for me as we walked out of the room.

We were rushing, because they said I was almost on the verge of being late, so I had to pull my dress up after tripping a couple of times.

The maid says that William will be giving the news from a large platform that was set in front of the castle. The whole village should be there already anxious to hear the news. Funny, so was I.

I might have not gone to the village for a while, but I remembered the doors that led outside. The maid handed me the bouquet of roses and let me take a deep breath before she opened the doors.

As the maids said, the platform was about forty feet away. There were six lavishing chairs on it, four of them being used by William’s brothers and parents, their back to me. I could see William making his way to the center of the stage, to a microphone. He was about to make the final word.

I carefully rushed to the platform, my hands sweating through the bouquet as I reach the stairs that would lead me to the top of the stage. With an anxious shudder, I step onto the platform, my eyes glued onto William. He had just greeted the crowd.

The chatter surging up in the crown made him stop, all of their eyes on me. Some started to yell for William to turn around, some of them pointing at me. And when his eyes meet mine, he freezes, for the whole village to see.

Seconds passed, but we didn’t seem to notice, we just stared at each other. Then I saw it, the flash of melancholy sadness. He shuts his eyes, his light eyebrows narrowing in hesitation. I can see his hand on the microphone tightening its grip. He faces back to the crowd, everyone glancing between me and him.

"I’m afraid to inform…" He trails off, trying to regain his thoughts.

His first words only force my legs to start walking toward him, to stop him from making the biggest mistake that can be done right now. I stop when he’s in reach, but I’m too afraid to touch him, to rush his words.

"I love you, William," I whisper. The words come out before I can stop them, and I even feel the surprise.

I see his back tense up, and I’m starting to think if I shouldn’t have said anything. But I don’t regret it.

The silence in the crowd only adds to the suspense, and we’re all aching to know what he’ll do next. Will he turn me down? Will he go on with what he was saying and try to pretend I’m not even there?

Suddenly, he turns around, pulls back my veil, accidentally making it fall to the floor, and brings his lips close to mine, waiting for my permission. I don’t hesitate in kissing him.

With this one simple move, as the sparks fill my soul, I can barely hear the crowd cheering and clapping. I can only feel his grip on my shoulder tighten; my hands on his shoulders, doing the same - the bouquet on the floor - , and our lips never giving up.

Once we did stop, the crowd silencing with us, he keeps his forehead against mine, his eyes still closed under his narrowed eyebrows.

"Me too", he says. "I love you, too."