The Life of Amelia Barnette

I first noticed the candles, bearing a bright glow that showed the smallest of details. There were thousands of them coating the church hall in a canopy of hungry flames scorching the air. Flowers decorated the pews where maybe one hundred, if not more, well-established Lords and their Ladies positioned themselves, all looking at me. Some women gasped at my appearance, smiling encouraging looks my way. The men looked me up and down, some giving me a small smirk out of the corner of their lips, causing my blood to cool and thicken. I knew none of them. The carpet that led me towards the altar was a dark crimson, the well-trampled material helping move my feet, one after the other. Then I saw him. He stood out from the rest, standing tall, a good few inches higher than the priest. His thick, dark brown hair was combed back neatly, clearly revealing his sharp jawline, chiselled beneath a thin layer of facial hair. A frown was embedded in his juvenile face, creating a sense of maturity about him. His face was long, yet perfectly proportioned, turning around to face in my direction as the organ began to play a delicate tune. Our eyes locked, causing my steps to falter. Behind my veil, I saw the auburn colours swirling and dancing as they burnt into my soul. My lips parted slightly as the frown that seemed so reluctant to move turned its corners into a small smirk, unlike the other men who shot me glances of desire. His smirk was playful, almost full of relief, calming my senses entirely.

Father broke me from my stance, tugging me closer to the unknown man. Before I could blink twice, my gloved palms were embracing his, fingers entwining with my own. I couldn't do it, I couldn't look up at him as the priest chanted on, filling the high ceilings with a dull lecture.

"Do Amelia Rosebelle Barnette, take his Lordship to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forth?"