In the medieval Scottish Highlands, Agnes lives as a noble. But because of a superstition that red headed people are all witches, Agnes suffered throughout her whole life. And the main source of her abuse is her own parents. When she is suddenly mar...
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2
The bells rang for the ceremony. Noble guests from all corners of the Highlands gathered at the doors to the chapel. Their chattering was like a roar as I waited in the assembly hall nearby. I hadn't known there were so numerous nobles that Father knew. From the sounds alone I guessed there may have been a few hundred guests. Lords, their wives and offspring, their distant relatives and business partners.
I was to remain unseen until it was time to walk down the aisle. My maids quietly talked amongst themselves, expressing their excitement and curiosities as if I could not hear a word they spoke. Regardless, I kept my face low and I silenced my lips. My maids were innocent, and I pitied them for it. This was their first wedding within the walls of this mansion. They were young and entertained by the ideas of romance. A naive maiden's fairy tale.
The reality of the situation weighed heavily and solely upon me. My red hair was bound to stun the crowd; I expected their cheers to quickly rise to disgusted grunts and horrified speculations. It was the reason I never left the mansion—never stepped outside these condemning walls. To protect Father and Mum's image. Very few knew of my birth. Many were unaware they had more than one child.
Why they would risk it all by inviting so many nobles to my wedding, I hadn't any idea. They were respected, admired, and valuable to the surrounding nobles. They had power. If it became known that their daughter was a witch, they would quickly become abhorrent in the eyes of their neighbors.
But Father and Mum always had a reason for their actions— reasons that never failed to result in success.
That worried me.
Soon, the guests silenced their gossip, and music began to play. I took in a shaky breath, linking my hands together. The door swung open. I lifted my face to gaze upon Father with Mum on his arm. Instantly, my maids rushed behind me to take their places. I stiffened under Father's critical stare. He looked over me. I held my breath, fearing he might find one small detail that wasn't perfect.
Instead, he pulled his arm from Mum and offered me his hand. "Come, my dear. Our guests await."
Feigning a smile came naturally to me as I took his hand and we locked our arms. My maids and Mum followed at a distance as we strolled down the foyer hall towards the chapel doors. Once again, the bells rung. Six times they sounded their powerful chime, and then the doors cracked open.
I inhaled deeply and held it. The scent of roses engulfed me, their aroma so strong that I nearly coughed and my head began to ache. The entertainers played their music as Father guided me inside.
In that instant, all eyes were on me. A shiver shook my spine, and I fought the overwhelming urge to hide my face as the guests gawked at my hair. There was a gasp of shock from many of the women, while the lords glared at Father with confusion and disgust.
