Blood Bride

Chapter Two

The dress my mother made me fit perfectly. The material, however slightly rough, flowed along my body, fitting tightly around my bust and waist before cascading down my legs, stopping a couple of centimetres off the ground. The dress was the same colours as my name; my dark auburn hair flowing around my waist in soft waves. The bright green of my eyes stood out against my dark exterior, like a single flame in the darkness.

I shifted nervously as I stroked my hands over my dress. My mother and father were ready, my mother in a dark blue dress that matched her eyes and my father wore a plain dark trousers and an equally dark tunic.

They stood by the door waiting for me patiently. Outside the festival had already started. My parents could hear the cheering and laughing from the villagers and the music and drunken singing.

The sun had set barely half an hour ago and my parents had been ready for longer. They waited for me to emerge from my room, but I stayed enclosed in here, staring deeply into the long mirror that leant against the wall.

I looked pale against the moonlight that flooded in from the window. A deathly pale that could be mistaken for illness or even a lustful appearance as my eyes had cascaded a few shades until they were a dark hunter green.

"Scarlet honey," my mother said softly from the other side of the door, "you don't have to come to the festival. You can stay home."

I pondered my mother's suggestion. I could stay, but I knew the village boys the next day would mock me and embarrass me in front of the other villagers. They would call me names, call me a coward. Saying it was just a little festival but obviously too much for me to handle.

But if I went what was I to expect? I was seventeen. The age you could start attending it unless you were married. All the girls there would either be married or a whore. Or both. Would I be mistaken for a whore? A body a man could have for one night for a couple of silver pieces or less.

I would be the only unmarried, non-whore, girl there. I was the only unmarried girl over fifteen in the village. I ran one hand down my face, wiping the sweat droplets of my forehead.

"I'm fine mother. I'm not a little girl clinging to your skirts anymore." I replied strongly before opening the door and striding past her, hearing my parents footsteps swiftly follow.

The night air brushed over my face as I crossed the threshold of my front door. The air seemed to grow thick with the lust and pleasure from those celebrating further ahead. There was a slight breeze, wafting the smell of smoke and ale towards my nose, enticing me yet causing me to turn my nose in disgust.

I braced myself for the drunken villagers and loud music (the loud thumping of drums already filling my ears) that awaited me and I took the first step forward, gaining confidence with each stride before I finally stood at the main opening of the festival.

The flames of torches flickered in the moonlight casting an orange haze on the skin of those who danced around them. Those who swirled and twirled around the large bonfire in the centre of the festival seemed to glow red, like devils raised from hell. Dancers dressed in little to nothing wearing dresses torn at the sides and draping off their shoulders, danced seductively, entwining their bodies with others, their legs draped over men's. Their husbands, other women's husbands or whoever was paying them tonight grasped their waists tightly and pressed their chests closely to theirs.

I bit her lip. This wasn't the first time I had seen people be intimate before however it was usually kept behind closed doors. Looking around I could see the butcher and his wife were few clothing items away from having sex down a dark alley or his son and Margaret, a whore, doing it on hay in the barn not far from Scarlet's own house.