The Subtle Beauty - A Celtic Beauty & the Beast retelling

CHAPTER 2: Lucullia's Wedding

CHAPTER TWO

Lucullia’s Wedding

Glory knelt near a seamstress, helping her put the finishing touches on Lucullia’s white gown.

“Ow, be careful!” Lucullia stomped as a needle poked her ankle.

“I am sorry, My Lady,” murmured the seamstress.

“This should have been done weeks ago,” Glory muttered.

“It would have if I were not being wed to such a beggar,” Lucullia retorted. “It is all I can do to at least turn this rag he sent me into a proper dress.”

Ophelia, Odessa’s twin, had been sniffling softly in the background and suddenly burst into tears. “I wish I were getting married!”

“Your day is coming. What’s the rush?” Glory mumbled.

“It is just that…that…” Ophelia sniveled, “Lucullia looks so pretty.”

Odessa rolled her eyes at her twin. “Ophelia, you already are pretty.”

“You are only saying that,” Ophelia sobbed, “because you are my sister.”

Portia stood near a table in the corner laden with food. “We’re all sisters,” she garbled with a mouth full of rump roast.

“That may be so,” said Lucullia, “but do not dare put your fat little sausages on this dress. It is bad enough as it is without the stains of whatever garbage you have been eating.”

Ophelia wailed.

Odessa growled. “Oh, what is it now, Ophie?”

“Lucullia called Portia fat again.”

“She is,” grumbled Odessa.

Ophelia dried her blue eyes and dabbed at her nose. She looked at Portia who was now stuffing her face to conceal her hurt feelings. Ophelia burst into broken laughter. “Hey, you are right. She is!”

Portia’s mouth stopped moving, and her chin began to tremble.

Glory looked at Odessa plaintively.

“You two are driving me crazier than the loons in the dungeon. Go and find something else to do before I throw the both of you out of the window,” Odessa snarled.

Portia swallowed her food, plucked a pastry from the table, and took Ophelia’s hand with her free one. “Come on, Ophie, let’s find some nice flowers to arrange.”

Lucullia fidgeted. “Are the three of you really not done yet? How hard is it to sew a few flowers on a piece of lace? It shouldn’t have taken this long.”

“Forgive us, Your Highness,” said the seamstress, “but there are thousands, and the stitch you requested is the most intricate—”

Odessa give the seamstress the look. It was enough to say, Silence, fool. Princess gets what princess wants.

Glory smirked.

They toiled in silence for a few hours. Lucullia grew more and more fidgety. Odessa threatened to drive the sewing needle into Lucullia’s Achilles if she did not hold still. They would bicker, but Glory knew Odessa was the smarter, if younger sibling, and always won.

Suddenly, the doors of the room burst open and work ceased. All four young women looked up to see large vases of colorful flowers flow in. Portia, stout and rotund, was concealed behind one and Ophelia, tall and swan-like, behind the other, blubbering again. “I can not help it.”