Cicatrice

Chapter XV

QUEEN ESTELLE BELSHAW

The day had arrived that I so horribly dreaded. The day I would be wedded and become Malcolm's wife, dedicating my life to not only regal service but to him as well. I knew this would be a challenge as I did not truly love him. There were hundreds - no, thousands of women who would happily wed Malcolm, and it was a pain for me to be different from them.

But I was different. I was a queen. At the end of the day, one would be ought to think that a queen should get to choose who she marries. But alas, here I was, stuck in a bubble that I could not escape from.

Marguerite tightens the corset, sinching my organs together as I squeeze my eyes shut. "Malcolm's eyes are going to fall out of his head when he sees your magnificence, your majesty," she squeals in excitement, but I cannot hold back the tears that sneak down my face. She hears me begin to sniffle, noticing my tears.

She furrows her narrow eyebrows in concern. "Este, my dear, what's the matter?" she questions, consulting me by wrapping her arm around my shoulder and pulling out a white hanky, wiping the tears from my face. "I am doomed, Marguerite," I sob, taking a seat on the patterned chair.

As I glance up at her, I can notice that she knows exactly what I was referring to. Marguerite wasn't dumb; she knew from the moment I could talk that my one wish in life was to be carefree and make my own decisions, however, she was prohibited from voicing her opinions around my father.

"Now, dear. You listen to me," she softly says, continuing to wipe the waterfall of tears. "In spite of what other people might want you to do, you determine your own destiny, my dear," she nurtures me, a soft smile on her lips. "Este, I've known you all your life. Follow your desires sincerely, sweetheart. You'll get there eventually. You have my word," she whispers, cupping my cheek with her warm hand.

"I'm grateful that you are here, Marguerite,"

"Always, my dear,"

Marguerite was the mother I never had. I cherished her maternal nature, and every word that woman had ever said to me because she was one of the few people I knew who genuinely looked out for me.

I take a final look at myself as an unwedded lady. The white laced dress hugged my body in all the right areas and draped down over my legs and feet. With my brunette locks in a braided updo, a white mesh veil falls over the back of my hair. I take a deep breath, tears circling my eyes as I whispered, "I can do this,"

Next thing I knew, father's arm was wedged between mine. "Now, there will be no funny business during the ceremony, right, Este?" he whispers in a condescending tone, firming his grip on my arm. "You are vowing to an oath, do not forget that," he growled as the organ started to play, the queue for father and me to walk down the aisle.

With every worried step I take, I get a closer look at Malcolm and everyone else who were seated in the pews. I wondered what they were thinking. If they knew that this was just a set-up. But yet, I get closer to their faces that held hope as if it was the last thing keeping them alive.

But that is when I see him. Eddie, standing near a stained glass window, hands by his side, and an emotionless expression. I had not been aware that he would be here - he was a servant after all. I knew with him being here, it was only going to make today harder.

I am met with Malcolm, and father lets go of my arm. The Reverend bows to me in his white and gold gown, holding the holy bible as Malcolm takes my hands and holds them in his, my heart doing somersaults in my chest. It was one thing to process that I was getting married, but to someone, I didn't even love?

"Your Majesty, please repeat after me," The Reverend says after Malcolm says his vows. I slightly nod, hearing him talk, but it was all coming out as gibberish. My eyes meet with Eddie who was watching intently, his eyes glistening ever so slightly and it makes my heart ache with pain.

Maybe he was the one I wished to marry.

"In the name of God, I, Queen Estelle, take you, Malcolm, to be my husband..." I begin, but my eyes aren't on Malcolm. In fact, they're still glued to Eddie. "...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish..." I don't even notice the tears falling from my cheeks onto my chest.

I take one last breath before I become Malcolm's wife. "...until parted by death," I whisper.

The ring bearer hands Malcolm the shiny golden ring, and he carefully slides it onto my finger. It fits perfectly. With my breath hitching to the back of my throat, I hesitate before I slide the ring onto his finger. With a sorrowful smile, I look into Malcolm's eyes, delicately sliding it onto his finger, smooth as butter.

"Now that the bride and groom have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the receiving of the rings, I now pronounce Queen Estelle Belshaw and King consort Malcolm Laurent husband and wife," The Reverend announces, a beaming smile on his face.

I look up at Malcolm. With a charming look on his face, he smiles at me as if I was now his prized possession - his property.

"Malcolm, you may now kiss the bride,"

Malcolm pulls me in and I fake a smile as his lips meet mine. He bends me over, sucking me deeply in with his hands gripping my waist.

This was a nightmare fairytale.