The Unwanted Wedding

Chapter 36- Pale Lipped Whispers Through Cage Bars

Long years ago, Segovia, Spain.

 I looked up at him. His tall, strong figure overpowering his dark and beak surroundings. His long dark locks flying free, dancing with the wind. His pale skin glowing in the darkness, even this far below I could still see his brilliant beauty. The great, lengthy black cape made him look vamperic with the redness of his vest. More so than his stance in between the gargoyles of his gothic home.

He watched me intensely as I arrived. I smiled; I couldn't wait to begin my violin lessons from such a great teacher. His music was almost as beautiful and breathtaking as the man himself.   I loved the Duke, Crisanto Ambrosio, the wealthiest man in Segovia, the most fascinating and handsome man I know. I was so uncontrollably in love.

The night around me was black; the clouds turned a smoky blue, not their sunny white. His whole house looked like something found in a gothic tale, so dark and mysterious, like the man himself who owns it. All together grand structures, built as if by the heavens themselves. And with such perfection.

I pulled my copper hair out of my face, pulling it back in my untidy bun. Nothing can take me away from such happiness. The worlds we lived in were so different, yet both were beautiful. His was the grand city filled with majestic structures and lights for stars. Mine was the natural green forest, that it self talks to you. And the sky above is clearly seen and holds in its magical spender. I kept my trip hidden, not telling my parents my true meaning behind traveling into the city. They'd never let me go, and the Duke made playing the violin such a romantic concept that I had to learn.

My horse and carriage were waiting for me. As soon as I got home, I will practice everyday so when I return he will be so proud of me and love me just as deeply in return. I sighed, such a man. As I glanced up at him once more before the large grand doors of his home opened for me, I shivered.

 Current time, Silvan Manor, Galician forest.

After that night, the whole house felt like it was a confined custodial constantly under surveillance and watch.  Over breakfast that morning the tension brewing in the air along with my husband's dark mood thickened when my parents had come to investigate all the noises they heard from their home. I phased out mothers constant hysterics at the situation and toned more and more into the shouting of my father in the room next door which he locked Vincent in with him. It was obvious to my father that this was Vincent's fault; according to my father a lot of things were Vincent's fault.

Since that morning I've began to feel unwell and tired, or at least that was my excuse. I knew I was being pulled under by fear. The fear of that blue rose and what it's meaning was. In the few days past I've taken to sleeping in the guest room and spending most of my time there. Only speaking to Alma about the rose and how Crisanto's memory haunts me. With a frustrated gesture I leaped out of bed and slumped onto my lounge. Oh, please God. Take me somewhere new! I'm dying in winter. I though angrily begging, Cris, I'm dying in winter now that I'm sitting here thinking it through. Knowing that I've never been anywhere cold as you! Oh, yes. That's what he was; cold. Cold and calculating and a monster. A monster that raped me, tricked me and made me think that I could love and trust him. What a fool I was! What a fool I still am!  Signing I stood, luxuriating in the silky feel of my blush coloured nightgown upon my silk I walked over to pull on my sheer chiffon robe.  My hair fell loosely from my muddled plait.

There was a soft knock at my door, Alma, I thought as I went to open it. Alma was dressed in a humble, long sleeved burgundy gown that reminded me of claret. Her beautiful golden curls where bunned by pins and her wise grey eyes gazed at me knowingly.