Stories are written by the winners. Winners who never fail to paint themselves in a 'favorable' light. I've been called evil. Twisted. Strange. Heartless.
All fair assessments; I dispute none of these claims. In fact, I hold my head high while confe...
[Author's notes: I'd had ideas for some scenes, but at the time, they didn't really fit. I'd written over 100k, but used only 73k of it. So I'll put them here should someone want to read them. I may make a few short one-shots. Please let me know what you think.]
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My first day as a married woman, in a marriage of my choosing, was...unexpected. Edmond avoided me from sunup to sundown.
We were far too old now for silly traditions and superstitions, but I suspected that wasn't the reason he was so peculiar.
He intended to make us all breakfast, that much I knew. I was pleased to arrive at the dining table to find him standing there. Poppy and Piglet had beat him to it.
So instead of sitting at the head of the table, he stood, staring at the empty chair. I thought to call out to him, to beckon him near but resisted.
None of this was a real celebration. Not with poor Raphael's estate being on the line. And then the matter of our nuptials and why they were even possible.
I'd wanted the occasion to be nicer.
Once the girls, girls who were no longer on speaking terms with me, arrived for breakfast, Edmond waited for them to set his place at the head of the table. Then, he picked the plates up, bowed his head, and backed out of the room and into the kitchen.
Piglet took his choice the hardest. It was more than clear that they'd worked so hard.
Since none of us three spoke together, it was an especially unpleasant meal.
Partway, I stood, gathered the food I could, and slipped into the kitchen also.
Edmond sat on a stool, eating his breakfast. He seemed satisfied with the menu at least. When I took Cook's usual chair across the table from him, he sat up, wearing a scowl.
"We are marrying today," I said, "and I refuse to start my first meal with you...without you."
He sighed out through his nose and gave little resistance, something unexpected.
More and more, I longed to see him smile. I suspected it would be a long wait.
Poppy made my dress. Which surprised me. It was a simple blue piece, but regal. Something Piglet informed me was for poor Edmond's sake, and not mine. I couldn't waste her effort, so I wore it. For the first time, I longed to do something special with my hair but hesitated. Again, this was no happy occasion. I did it up anyway. I even used blush, which was so very unlike me.
My status falling so low that a servant with a meager title was on par with me for marriage would devastate anyone. But I wasn't devastated.
The priest arrived late. As he trudged to the garden, led by my daughters, I wondered if he were giving me ample time to run away.
He closed in, more and more, wearing a look of doubt. He came to a stop before us but we did not move. Four people attended this miserable wedding. Five, if the priest were included.
