Louise wore a pleasant smile that acted as her armor while she stared at herself in the mirror.
My mother's murderer.
"An emerald here," she instructed Alice, the maid who had been fussing over her dark red hair all afternoon.
"Yes, my lady."
The decoration was added to the updo her hair had been swept into and her pale decolletage stood out starkly against the gold and light blue dress she had been put in that day. Pearls were sewn along the neckline of her gown, which hung off of her shoulders. Her skin was faintly perfumed with a floral scent. She looked like a princess—or at least the daughter of one.
The princess, whom I killed.
Beauty could make anyone forget the rot inside of her. Her sins that she paid for every day could be swept under the rug of her appearance as long as she kept up with it. If she was pretty enough, perhaps her father would spare her an affectionate glance rather than stare at her with the disdain of someone who had a daughter with such a dark past.
"I look beautiful, don't I?" Louise questioned with a smile but there was panic in her golden-hazel eyes that was only assuaged when her maid gave a response.
"Of course, my lady."
Her eyes went back to the mirror and her heart calmed down after the adrenaline rush of thinking she might not be beautiful. She let out a calming sigh and placed a hand over her heart with perfectly manicured fingers, soft from never having to perform a menial task a day in her life.
The image Louise had of herself was hollow. Nothing mattered more than her skin. If she didn't take care of her shell, what else did she have?
Her father taught her how to be a stupid girl so that no one would have any interest in the happenings of her mind, or her heart. She could hardly read or write, despite being the spoiled daughter of a noble.
It was her punishment for killing her mother as she took her first breath.
Nothing mattered and nothing could hurt her, she had convinced herself. She didn't deserve those sorts of emotions because she had committed the greatest sin.
Louise took another calming breath as anxiety consumed her, but she pulled herself together enough not to cry out as she sometimes did when she was alone.
She knew that it wasn't becoming of a young lady to be overly emotional, but everyone had their dirty little secrets. Some were simply bigger than the others. Hers just so happened to be much darker than the rest so she gave herself a bright appearance to make up for it.
"The veil?" Louise questioned. "Aren't I meant to wear one on the day of my wedding?"
The maid became tight-lipped and her smile didn't meet her eyes.
"Later, my lady," she responded. "You will meet His Grace in the gardens before the ceremony. I will be back. Please don't do anything that your father would be upset with."
That's right, she remembered. I'm getting ahead of myself. Father has warned me that his patience is growing thin again.
For two months she had been engaged to a man she had never laid eyes on before in her life.
She had crafted a romantic tale in her head about meeting someone who had his eye on her for a long time. He would be charming and chivalrous since he was a knight before he was a duke. He was swept away by her beauty and couldn't wait to return from battle to sweep her up and take her away to his duchy in the south. That's where their love story would finally begin.
The image soured the longer he postponed their meeting until it so happened that the day he was supposed to meet her would be the very day they married.
The archmage to the King chose a specific date that was said to be blessed for betrothal and guaranteed fertility. That date was set in stone, but her future husband's tardiness was making everyone involved rife with worry.
When a messenger finally arrived at the Sullivan's estate, they collectively breathed a sigh of relief and preparations began for the wedding of Count Aaron Sullivan's daughter and Duke Marcello Calvani.
Louise waited in her room, completely unmoving, as she stared at herself in the mirror. She scrutinized herself down to the finest detail until her maid returned for her and said that there were refreshments prepared in the garden.
In the same way a doll waited to be played with, Louise only moved when she was told and constantly waited for someone to acknowledge her first. She would never go out of her way to capture someone's attention.
After being led to a table where a spread of snacks and tea was laid out for them, her father soon appeared.
She stood up and curtsied for him, splaying the dress he had bought for her and silently promising that she looked as good as she was supposed to. Yet he wore an irritated expression that she caught when she stood up straight again.
"My lord?" Louise asked.
She addressed her father appropriately, never forcing him to have familiarity with someone like her. She killed the love of his life, after all. Any pain he inflicted on her she knew she deserved.
"You will not disappoint me today, Louise," he spat. "The Duke is a dignified man and expects someone as sharp as they are attractive. A lot is riding on someone as daft as you so you must behave properly." He tossed a small book of poems at her and she barely caught it after having to scramble. "Pretend to read this while you wait for him. It would look better for you to seem studious knowing you have nothing to offer behind the eyes you stole from your mother."
Louise's golden hazel eyes. The very same as the princess's, just as her dark red hair was also hers. She was surrounded otherwise by blondes with blue eyes.
"Yes, my lord," she responded, trying to speak concisely so the intelligent charade would seem convincing.
All he did was scoff as he walked away.
Louise waited for her father to leave with her head bowed in respect.
Before anyone else could bother her, the young lady stood up in a frenzy and lifted her skirts as she ran off of the brick-lined pathway underneath the gazebo and into the garden full of lilacs. Considering they were only telling her a bit of the plan, she needed to get something before she left.
When she turned twelve, she found a note from her mother amongst the items she had left behind in her room. With it was a ring that proved one's Royal Blood. The note told her to hide it from everyone, but take it with her if she ever left her family home.
The lilacs had grown so thick that year, the place she hid the ring in a small wooden box was much deeper than she had expected and she had to lean fully into the vivid light purple flowers until her fingertips met the box and she pulled it out with a grunt.
The box itself wasn't all that important, so she discarded it. Her hands were filthy, and she didn't want to get the mess on her outer skirts. She carefully stood and rushed to the nearby fountain, rinsing the incriminating dirt away in the rushing stream. When her hands were wet but clean, she lifted her skirt and dried them on her petticoat. The ring glistened in her palm.
Considering she couldn't very well wear the ring in front of others, her eyes darted around until she caught a glimpse of her cleavage which was exaggerated because of the corset underneath her dress. She slipped the ring between her breasts and hoped it would hold until she ended up wherever she was meant to end up.
Knowing she had no time to waste, Louise ran back to the gazebo and sat down. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart. Her body wasn't used to physical activity, especially not running so quickly in such a heavy gown.
Just in time for her to lift the book to eye level and browse the page even though the words were too long for her comprehension, she heard the door closest to the gazebo open.
Out walked a dignified man with black hair in a navy blue military uniform decorated with gold medals, chains, and epaulets on his shoulders that swayed gently with each step. The expression he wore was serious and pensive which Louise misinterpreted as anger.
It struck Louise's heart with fear, recognizing that her father had worn that expression before, and the outcome was never good.
When he was only a few steps away from her, she noticed his dark hair had a few streaks of grey throughout.
He was undoubtedly attractive, but she couldn't help wondering how much older he was than her. Those who orchestrated this union in the first place had given her little detail about him. They were only worried about how it would benefit them if it went over successfully.
Louise stood up as he stared at her expectantly with stormy grey eyes and she offered him a curtsy just as she offered her father before. Just as a true gentleman was supposed to, he reached for her hand and gently kissed the back of it.
"Hello, Your Grace," she practically whispered.
He placed her hand down and reached towards her hair.
When he had raised his hand Louise cowered in fear, her own hands raised. Yet the impact never came. All he did was pull something out of her hair.
A small lilac fell from his fingers as he flicked it away.
Louise was horrified at her unnecessary reaction.
"I see," he said. "So this is how it is."
Louise was at a loss for how to interject. She thought he seemed disappointed despite how long it took her to get ready that day.
Her face was flawless the last time she saw it in the mirror.
The Duke suddenly walked away and all Louise could do was reach towards him. She couldn't find her voice to stop him.
The young lady sank into her chair when he was no longer in view and tears sprang in her eyes.
A maid soon appeared and Louise screamed, "Bring me a mirror!"
When the hand mirror was in her grasp and she was able to see herself, she placed a hand on her cheek. Except for the flower that was no longer there, there was nothing wrong with her appearance.
She didn't consider the fact that she was 17 and he was 38 could be an issue.