Glass

Chapter One: Andres (Part II)

Luckily, my father's evolving worries expanded to my marriage, and it was delayed month by month despite my mother's protests. But the more he feared giving me up to someone he couldn't completely trust, the more I feared that one day he'd change his mind. 

It was the eve of my nineteenth birthday when my mother finally convinced my father to let me marry. The dread within me hung heavy for so long that I had long expected the day to come and thought myself prepared. 

So on that June evening when the chocolate cosmos bloomed and revealed their purple-red centres to the sun, I was summoned to the court. It was rare that such a formal thing occurred with me involved, so I had a suspicion that my parents had finally agreed upon an engagement. 

My heart sped into a murmur the closer and closer I got to the giant courtroom doors, and when I opened the door with a shivering palm despite the arid heat, the prospect I avoided for so very long waited for me on the other side. 

My mother's courtroom was one of the largest rooms in the palace, and while I was generally allowed to roam freely within the confines of the outer walls, the courtroom was often out of bounds, clamoured by adults who stood and spoke for hours at a time. The room was perfectly symmetrical - with tiles of orange and blue patterned into a circle in the centre. The awnings high up on the ceiling were carved with vibrant alebrijes watching over us; watching over the kingdom. At the end of the room, two thrones stood on high steps, bathed in the multicoloured sunlight pouring through the stained glass window. Atop them, my parents were still and shadowed, their little fingers touching for the other's comfort. 

"Andres, my son." My mother spoke first, as was custom in her court. I looked around, and to my relief, no other surrounded the three of us. The relief would not last, however. "I'm sure you are long aware that you are due to be engaged."

"Yes mother," I nodded slowly, "you have found a match?"

Queen Josefina rose from her throne, her silver hairs now visible in the light. King Santos followed suit. 

"We have decided to allow you to choose your own suitor from a list of candidates. You will meet these candidates at a ball we will be hosting in three days' time."

"You mean... I'll be meeting them all at once?"

My parents nodded in unison. "Well... How many are there?"

The king and queen looked at each other. My gut dropped. 

"Six hundred, give or take." 

Mother spoke as though she was merely commenting on the weather.

"Six hundred?" I spoke barely audibly. I'd never met one woman beyond Mendessa's palace, never mind hundreds. And to speak and dance with all of them in one night? Surely, they didn't expect me to find a suitable bride that way.

"And of course, the families of each candidate will also be attending for your convenience."

For my convenience? I knew she meant that I'd be able to judge the calibre of each maiden's upbringing, but there was absolutely nothing convenient about it. If I was to choose a wife of my own, I'd want to judge the character of the bride herself, and if I had it my way, I'd craft a ceremony that required as little awkward conversation as possible.

I cringed thinking of the hundreds, possibly thousands of small talk encounters I'd be forced to make. What do people even talk about? How could I be sure I had a connection with anyone in mere minutes before I had to move onto the next? My head was a whirring spinning wheel, playing over and over the repetitive phrases and introductions I'd have to endure.