Black Lace (Complete)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

It took until mid-day to realize exactly what I'd done. What Aziel had done—what we'd both done, to be more precise. As I sat at the dinner table, hands in my lap, I could still feel the outline of Aziel's cock against my inner thigh; the hungry lick of his tongue on my feverish skin.

"You like ghostly, Romina." I heard Mother say, approaching me by the table. She slid into her usual seat with practiced grace, sending me a warm smile. I returned it, though I knew it would not reach my eyes. "Whatever's the matter, sweet heart?"

"I'm not used to change." I said. And it was true: I was not used to change. What change exactly? Well, there was much change in my life. There was much change around me. Did Mother know that? Yes. About all of it?

No.

And to put it quite simply, I hoped she never would.

"It's human nature," Mother offered, adjusting her napkin onto her lap. The latticed flowers on her dress taunted me, reminding me of the sweet, sweet flowers from our front yard garden. After my day out riding with Aziel, Father had made nothing more clear than his initiative to keep me either with Mother, or without: in my room, alone. "It's fine to worry about changes, and it's fine to want things to stay the same. But wanting won't get you anywhere." She removed a rose from the vase before her, twirling the blood-red flower in between her fingers. Her eyes fell to it, hooded. A deeper emotion rested beneath the surface of her reposed face and calm cheeks. "You have to teach yourself to want what you have, because you can't always have what you want."

I let her soft voice float around in my head, words circling my mind. I'd always taught myself to want a husband. I knew that I did. But, admittedly, I was scared. To meet a man I never knew. Not all men were as gracious as Father was, bestowing both Mother and I with generous gifts. But I wanted love.

"Do you love Father, mama?" I asked hesitantly. Mother's fingers froze around the rose. At the fast movement, a single petal fell and landed on her polished plate. The rose was bleeding.

"Of course I do." She smiled, and it seemed like such a warm and convincing smile that I almost believed it. Mother had always taught me how to appear happy and calm when I was not. The only problem that came from this, was that I knew when she was not calm.

And when Mother was not calm, something was truly wrong in the world.

"I'm just...I'm scared, mama." I admitted, voice breaking slightly. I tried to compose myself, but there were no maids or butlers in the room. No one was there to hear me but Mother. So I let myself go. "I know this is wrong, and I know that it's a foolish fear, but I'm scared, mama—I'm terrified that I won't love my husband."

Silence hung in the room after my words. Mother didn't speak. She appeared to be lost in her thoughts, staring at the rose in her hands. I continued.

"Love takes time. I'm worried that I don't have time. We're supposed to have kids. We're supposed to love and cherish each other every day. How can I do that without love?"

How can I live a life without you or Father, my only loves? How can I truly be alone, where I don't even have myself, for I've given my all to a man I do not know?

"Romina..." Mother said carefully. Her breaths were soft but calculated. I could tell she was trying to control her reaction to not set me off. I watched with wide and worried eyes. "I will tell you something—but you must swear that you will not tell another soul, yes?" Her eyes darted from the rose to my own, strikingly powerful compared to the usual gentle lax of her stare.

I opened my lips to speak, but hesitated. Not even Father?

"Not even your father." She confirmed, reading the words in my eyes.

I nodded, slowly. Hesitantly. "I understand, mama." I lowered my head in sign of respect. "I won't speak your words to another living soul."

"Good."

Mother was a regal woman in all regards. She wore gowns and dresses fit for the most presidential of royalty. She held herself with such power, such calm and undiluted force, that her presence was not one to fear, but to admire. To trust. Now, this woman was telling me something that gave away her power over me. It was shocking, but I listened. I was good at that: listening.

If only I were as good at following as I was listening.

"When I first met your father, I was sixteen." My eyes widened. "It was our wedding day. My own mother, just thirty-two at the time, was in the middle of birthing her fifth child." Something in her eyes became clouded. Detached. Her voice held no pain, but her eyes said enough. "She missed my wedding night, Romina. She missed it to give birth to another daughter that would also never get to see their mother at their wedding."

A small tear began to bead in her eyes, but she quickly wiped it away. "Your father was a very kind man. He allowed me to take things slower because I was so young. I will be forever grateful for that."

Father is a good man.

"I'm telling you this because I want you to understand exactly why your father will only let you marry at twenty. I'm telling this to you because you need to know your privilege and position. It's not a power, no, but it is a privilege." Her eyes softened, wrinkling the slight crow's feet around her eyes. "But do promise me one thing."

The sound of people's footsteps neared us. Father and Aziel must have returned from their work today. Mother leaned closer, voice lowering to a whisper as she spoke.

"I've given you a chance, Romina. Do not waste it."

(a/n: Check out my instagram @ bobrossofwriting, I put random things that I think are funny on my story, and sometimes do writing updates <3 Love you all!)