Vows And Veil

Oh, The Sweet Tragedy.

The day Adelaide had longed for unfolded slowly, each moment dragging on agonizingly. She had always envisioned her wedding day as a whirlwind of excitement, a bustling affair where she wouldn't even have a moment to herself with her beloved. But reality shattered her expectations. Instead of eagerly anticipating her groom's embrace, she found herself yearning to retreat into solitude, to disappear entirely.

In her dreams, as she walked down the aisle, her groom would await her with tearful eyes, brimming with love and longing. But reality presented a stark contrast. The man standing before her wore a scowl that pierced her heart, refusing even to meet her gaze. When their eyes did lock, she couldn't bear the intensity of his anger and disgust, forcing her to look away.

The pain of plastering a smile on her face while her groom remained indifferent cut deep. As he recited hollow vows and lifted her veil, his eyes bore into her, filled with a threat that sent shivers down her spine. She realized that her torment was only beginning. She feared her groom's eyes, knowing they harbored no love or respect for her, regardless of his title or name. At that moment, she knew she was trapped in a loveless union, bound by duty and tradition, with no hope of escape.

In Lovaria, a longstanding tradition dictated that any woman of royal lineage who married must partake in a seven-day celebration within the kingdom. However, Adelaide staunchly refused to participate. How could she possibly revel in a marriage forced upon her? Instead, she chose isolation, retreating to the confines of her room where panic gripped her with each passing minute.

She couldn't fathom leaving with the man deemed her husband – a man she did not love. What value did such a union hold without love? It was merely a string of compromises, devoid of meaning or fulfillment to her. She couldn't bear the thought of perpetuating a relationship built on coercion.

Another knock echoed on her door, her mother's voice calling out her name, but Adelaide had barricaded herself inside. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her breaths coming in ragged sobs as she crumpled to the floor. "Why, Fredrick? Why did you do this to me?" she whispered through choked sobs, anguish dripping from her words as tears stained her cheeks.

"Gerald!" Zach's voice rang out, but his best friend remained unresponsive. Racing to catch up, Zachary found Gerald in the fields behind the church, his determination to leave palpable in the air. With each step, Zachary's breath grew labored; he couldn't let Gerald go through with this.

"Gerald, you can't leave. Where are you going? Everyone's waiting for you," Zachary pleaded, reaching out to touch his friend's shoulder.

Gerald's fists clenched, teeth gritted in anger. He shoved Zach's hand away, his voice dripping with ire. "I'm seething, Zachary. Just leave me be – I'm going nowhere," he spat, his frustration evident.

Zachary, having been friends with Prince Gerald for years, had never witnessed such fury in him. He understood the torment Gerald must be feeling, forced into a marriage he never wanted. With a heavy sigh, Zachary relented, halting his pursuit. "Fine, go – I'll tell them you're unwell and need to rest," he conceded, his heart heavy with sympathy for his friend's plight.

Gerald halted abruptly, pivoting to face his friend with a narrowed gaze. "Why lie?" he retorted sharply. "Just tell them the truth – that like Prince Fredrick, I've left because no one deserves to marry or remain married to such a manipulative and repulsive woman!" His words dripped with contempt.

Zachary bristled at Gerald's harsh characterization of Adelaide. "That's unfair, Gerald," he interjected, attempting to reason with his friend. "Didn't you tell me her father was being threatened by King McLeod?"

"Don't, Zach," Gerald cut him off with a pointed finger, his frustration palpable.

Sighing, Zachary persisted, "Listen, Gerald. It's not easy for Adelaide either. She was supposed to marry Fredrick, not you," he reasoned.