(jaylor au) clandestine meetings in beautiful rooms

No One Likes A Mad Woman

"Long may we reign," he repeats softly as he kisses my temple. His lips are warm, and I have missed them against my skin.
He smiles.
"What if things change?" I whisper, but he shakes his head.
"Nothing between us will change," he promises gently as I feel my heartbeat rise. "I promise."
"What if we're caught?" I ask him on the way back to the palace. His hand finds mine as he sighs.
"Well, we just have to hope we won't be."

I never imagined my wedding to be like this. An event that felt to be no more than a ball. I was woken up at four o'clock this morning, to bathe. Now it is six o'clock and I am watching the sun drift upwards. How on earth can the world keep spinning when my world is caving in around me? How can the sun drift upwards, when I shall be left in the dark? My ladies have been floating in and out. I haven't seen Joe, even though it is only his face, his eyes that I want to see.

"Bath time is up, Taylor ." I hear my mother's chirpy voice from the other side of the door. I sigh. She is loving every moment of this misery, my misery.
I didn't even get to choose my wedding dress. Didn't get to choose anything. Except for a few fucking flowers. But flowers mean nothing.
I stay in the bath until Blake and Abigail tell me I really do need to get out. They will have been sent in by my mother, they'll know how I wish I could sit here forever.
Then it's time for my hair and make-up.
My mother buzzes around the room, not hesitating to yell at the hairdresser or make-up artists when something isn't up to her standard. It feels like my heart is about to burst out of my chest. As if it is moments away from shattering into a million tiny pieces as if the only person who can repair it is Joe. The man I am destined to be apart from as if we are parallel lines, doomed to be side by side but never colliding.
My hair is done beautifully, but it just doesn't feel right. None of this does.

Then my mother pulls out the dress.

Believe me, when I say that it made me feel sick, the fact that there are people in the village, in our village that are starving to death, yet here I am. I will be waltzing down the aisle, to what feels like my death, looking like the night sky. It makes me sick.
I just manage to make it to the toilet before I actually am sick. And the only thing my mother says is, "You'd better not ruin your make up!"
It shouldn't have to be like this. I shouldn't be wearing a dress worth all of this money when there are people that cannot afford to eat food.
Eventually, after a long period of standing against the door with my head in my hands, I gather the courage to face the world again.
"We mustn't forget your crown," My mother says, before telling all the ladies to leave the room. It's just her and I now.