Her maid rushed around the room muttering to herself in her birth language, a language she knew little of.
Her corset hugged her small waist so tightly she could scarcely breathe.
She placed her hands on the soft velvet bodice, feeling the smooth fibres under her fingertips. It was a beautiful colour, sapphire blue. Chosen to match her own complexion, she had ivory coloured skin and sapphire blue eyes. Her hair, now curled and styled upon her head, pinned and pressed into place was a soft blonde colour.
Gold powder dusted her cheeks and eyelids and a deep red stained her lips.
She had been called beautiful for as long as she could remember. Even at a young age she would hear others speak around her, whispering of her looks, of the suitors she would have and the offers of marriage she could expect.
What she would never have expected was to have no choice at all.
“Come Miss, the Master is waiting for us, we must hurry.” Her maid said gathering the veil in her arms and trailing behind as she walks to her bedroom door.
She had lived here for twenty one years as a free woman. But that was all about to change.
“Ah, there you are daughter. I was worried I would have to come fetch you myself.” Her father called out as I reached the last step into the large entry hall of our home.
He looked at her then, studying each detail, everything must be perfect. Every piece of clothing and jewellery had been chosen for her.
“Your wedding day is here, you should be happy, and yet you look like someone has died.” He said staring down at her, his dark green eyes boring into hers.
She looked nothing like the man she had called father. She took after my mother, a beautiful woman of fair complexion and dazzling blue eyes. She had been chosen on her looks and now her daughter followed the same path.
“It is hard to be happy when I feel like I have been sold like a prize pig to the highest bidder.” She said glaring up at him.
He smiles tightly, it wasn’t a happy smile, no, he never showed her those anymore.
“A daughter’s duty is to serve her family. You are twenty one today, you know the customs, you know you are to marry in your twenty first year or be forced to marry at the order of our King.”
“I have a year father, a whole year to find a husband and yet you force me to marry a stranger, a mad man, all so you can pull yourself out of debt!” She scream’s at him.
The back of his hand hits her cheek in a swift swipe of his arm. She can feel his family ring as it grazes her skin and can taste blood on her tongue as she blinks back her tears and looks up at him.
He is breathing heavily, eyes wide and bitter. There was no love between them. He might have been kind once, when her mother was alive to keep him happy.
But since the day she died he had been cold and cruel, digging himself further and further into debt by gambling and drinking and whoring around until today that is.
“You will serve me in silence. I will hear no more of your complaints. You should count yourself lucky that I have chosen someone for you to marry instead of selling you to the whorehouse.”
With that he turned on his heel and stormed out the front door where our carriage waited.
Her maid stepped close, checking her face and wiping a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief.
Birdie presses the handkerchief into her hands giving her a small sad smile before wrapping her arms around the bride.
“Farewell Miss, I won’t be seeing you again.”
“Goodbye Birdie, thank you for taking care of me all these years.” She says squeezing her hands tightly.
She steps out into the crisp morning air and takes a deep breath. The carriage stood waiting with a footman at the door. This was it, she would never return to my family home. She would no longer be a daughter but a wife.
Her chest tightens at the thought of being a wife to a man she did not know.
“Hurry up!” Her father yelled from the inside the carriage and she quickly steps inside and sits down holding onto the embroidered handkerchief tightly.
****
The ride was long as the horses carried them farther and farther away from their home. They rode through a dense and dark forest that seemed to swallow the carriage whole. She imagined she had fallen asleep and it was now night time as there was no sunshine at all.
But then the trees started to clean and a castle appeared in the distant.
Everyone knew of the dark and dangerous castle.
It had stood at the outskirts of the forest for many years, daring all those who neared it to enter at the risk of their lives as everyone claimed it to be haunted.
It looked as if there was no life there at all. The plants were all weeds and thorns, there were flowers or fruit trees, no servants in the yard.
The large and foreboding Iron Gate creaked as it opened to let the carriage in.
She could feel her heart racing the closer they came to the castle.
She knew who lived here. The mad man. The lunatic. The shunned prince of the Kingdom of Evandar.
All the men were sent to fight in the war, it had only been four years since the war ended and peace was returned. It was said that he had been captured and tortured when they discovered he was the prince.
It had taken months for the king to arrange an army to free him and when he returned he was so scarred by his time there that he refused to return to the castle.
There were rumour that he would go into a frenzy and start fighting his own guards and soldiers in the middle of the night.
He was sent here by the King and Queen where he would be away from the people.
“Get out.” Her father said brusquely after stepping out of the carriage and waiting for her to do the same.
She followed, her eyes drawn to the castle. Its dark and eerie windows seemed to stare back at her. It felt cold and wrong, she couldn’t help but pull away from it bumping into the footman.
“Pardon me Miss.” He said with a bow.
“Sorry…I wasn’t paying attention.”
“And here is the preist.” Her father calls with a wave of his arm as another carriage pulls up behind them.
The horses whinny and stomp their hooves as the footmen try to calm them.
“Gerald, I have come, is everyone ready.” The priest asks as he steps out of his carriage, his long black and maroon robe falling to his feet. A bible in his hands.
“Almost, we’re just waiting on our mystery Prince.” Her father answers as they both look up at the castle. It was so quiet and still.
“Are you quite sure he is here? This is where we are supposed to meet?” The priest asks wiping his brow with a white handkerchief.
“Yes I’m sure. He has to be here.” Her father says stomping towards the castle doors.
The Priest notices the bride and smiles at her.
“There you are, how very beautiful you look my dear.” He says, eyes lingering on her cleavage as he licks his lips.
Her father pounds on the castle doors three times before stepping back.
They are met with a flurry of crows screeching and squawking up into the air as the wind blows and her veil pulls tight across her face.
Then there is a loud groan as the two large oak doors open to the castle.
Her heart beat races, her breath coming out in short gasps as she struggles to breathe.
He takes three steps and each step echoes behind him in the great hall.
She can’t help but stare at him.
From his dark unruly hair that sat over his forehead pushed to one side, to the pale skin and strong nose. A strong square jaw and full pale lips held a grim expression as he stepped out into the grey morning light.
But most of all she could not help but stare at his eyes. They were full of hate and bitterness and anger. He stared at her father and the priest like he might like the idea of ripping them limb from limb just for standing in his presence.
“Your majesty,” Her father bowed to the prince followed by the priest. “We have arrived as scheduled. Here,” He says holding out his arm towards the young woman. “This is my daughter, Elide.”
The Prince turns his attention to me and I curtsy low, bowing my head in submission.
“Let’s get this over with.” The prince barks without a word to Elide or a request for her to remove her veil.
“Shall we not go inside Milord to make the promises?” The Priest asks eyeing the open castle doors.
“No. No one enters my castle unless they are my servant.” He says darkly.
What did that make Elide? Was she not to be his wife?
“Very well. My dear, if you will stand here, and Milord, just here.” The priest mutters, gesturing with his arms in front of him.
Elide stands beside the prince, the stranger, the mad man.
“Milord, if you will make your pledge.”
“I pledge to keep this woman as my wife.” He stops, there are more words, more promises, of care and attention and fidelity but he says no more.
“And you Miss Ryder…” The Priest says nervously, looking away from the prince with fear in his yes.
“I…” The words were stuck in her throat. She didn’t want to pledge of promise anything. She wanted to be free, free to choose, free to love, not be chained to this stranger like a slave.
Her father clears his throat as he stands close to her and she remembers his order. She would serve him as a daughter. She could not run or hide for she had nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.
No money, no family, no hope.
“I pledge to serve this man as my husband. To honour and please him..”
“That’s enough.” The prince cuts her off before she can finish her pledge.
“Very well, in the name of our god I now make you man and wife.” The priest says touching his bible and raising his hand to the sky before bowing.
“It is done?” The prince asks and the priest nods quickly. “Very well, you will leave now.” He says before grabbing Elide’s wrist and dragging her up the stairs towards the castle doors.
“And what of my payment?” her father calls out.
The prince stops, squeezing Elide’s wrist so tightly it begins to hurt.
“Van will load your carriage before you leave.”
An older servant rushes past the newly married couple carrying a large trunk. Elide begins to turn to see her father but she is dragged into the castle.
He doesn’t slow or stop as he pulls her along, they march up one of the curving stair cases before turning into a long wide corridor. Their steps echo all around them as she struggles to keep up with his long strides.
They twist and turn through corridors and up another flight of stairs and she is sure she would never be able to find her way out.
Finally they reach a door and he opens it, pulling her inside behind him before slamming the door shut.
He lets go of her wrist before reaching for his own jacket, taking it off and throwing it on the chair behind him.
“Take off your clothes.” He orders before kicking off his boots and untying his shirt collar.
