𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

Novaturient (adj.) - Desiring or seeking powerful change in one's life or a certain situation.

Anastasia

"Oh my god, Anastasia dear, take small steps while walking," Mom mumbled for the hundredth time.

"Mom, I'll be fine," I smiled at her fussing over me.

"I know honey, I know. It's just 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9..." She counted until she managed to cool her hysteria.

Taking her hands in mine, I squeezed them to reassure her.

"It's going to be alright. I won't trip." I winked smiling at the woman who wasn't my biological mother, but the woman who was so much more.

"Don't jinx it!" She scolded. "It's your big day honey. I'm just worried." She rubbed her temples as if she was relieving stress.

There was nothing to worry about. The security is tripled strictly because of today's occasion.

Occasion.

Big day.

Wedding.

Yeah.

I can feel that.

I stared at my reflection. I was getting married.

Today.

In less than thirty minutes.

Instead of feeling giddy or nervous, my heart was galloping for a marathon.

The Ralph and Russo white dress was breathtaking, I mean it in the tangible way of taking a breath. I couldn't breathe in this dress for it was extremely heavy. Never in my life, I thought I would wear something this vast on my wedding day.

Donned with intricate lace designs, 40,000 dainty white pearls, and 15,000 encrusted Swarovski diamonds, it weighed more than my body weight.

It was Abuelita's wish to see her granddaughter - adopted, in the glory of a princess. This was her customized gown for me as a wedding gift. Mama insisted on something that would cover my back to which I am thankful for.

The lace designs with ornate 3D diamond flowers hugged my chest. The skirt flowing in numerous layers of satin tulles. I gingerly stood on my heels, careful not to trip over while exhaling a slow dress.

I stared at my veil. The veil is customized by precise instructions delivered by my Mother. It is adorned with lace, dainty Swarovski diamonds here and there, and the borders dangling with delicate tear-shaped white pearls. The train ran down to my mid-back. My long brown hair was coiffed in a beautiful bun resting at the nape of my neck, a few of the strands fanning my face. A diamond tiara perched on my head, giving me an entire elegant look.

"Francesca, you are scaring the poor child," Abuelita said entering the room.

"Abuelita!" I exclaimed. "You shouldn't be walking in your state," I mumbled to the old woman. She never did understand the meaning of the word 'rest'.

"Oh, don't jest. Nothing will stop this lady from seeing her granddaughter before the wedding. rest be damned."

I giggled, while Mom looked like she was ready to faint.

"Mamma, you should.." Mom trailed off snapping her lips into a thin line when Abuelita narrowed her eyes at me.

Abuelita took my hands into her frail, trembling, wrinkled ones squeezing them as if to console me.