You know, it feels pretty awesome-crazy to have people reading things you write. You all make my day so much better. :D
ANYWAYS. I didn't post to dwaddle.... Or did I?
A few things before I get to the main part of this.
Firstly, COUNTDOWN TO EUROPE: 21 DAYS! Secondly, you'll never believe this, but I'm going out for Moore High School's Color Guard. In most schools, it's pretty dorky, but I want to do something and with this new zero-hour policy I can't do sports.
So, hence I will be a flag-twirler. :D
ALRIGHT.
Ready?
Yeah, totally, I know.
Continuing from last post:"...After all, you and Talon are supposedly engaged, and you’re the lovely bride.”
When Erick had successfully made sure that I was in my chair, he rejoined the dancing, swaying around with various girls, acting more as a jester than a forty-seven-year-old man. I watched him, brooding over what he’d just told me, unconsciously picking at my dress. My eyes raked across the dance floor, picking out the different colors of gowns, who was wearing them, and who was dancing with the gown-wearer.
Eventually though, I ended up thinking about what my life really was. Obviously, my family thought I was killed in some kind of freak accident because my demensional body, the one I was used to having, was long dead.
I shuddered. I was dead because someone up in who-knows-where had wanted me to be a Traveler.
So then, what was I, if I wasn’t alive? I’d asked Erick about it before, but he’d only said that...
“Lady Samantha, why are you wearing white?”
I jumped as I was ripped out of my own little world, then smiled at the child in front of me. She, herself, had to be ten years old, wearing a black gown and a princess crown, meant for adornment of the future ladies rather than nobility.
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused but almost happy to have some other conversation besides talking to myself.
“You’re wearing white, the color of avalibility, when the color of the house is black.”
I looked at her blankly, and she went further in depth. “When you get engaged, you wear the color of the house. It lets people know that you’re taken by someone from that status. I’m Merian Zavian, Dante’s fiancee and your soon-to-be sister-in-law.” She smiled a big toothy grin.
I stared at her in disbelief. She was so young. “You’re getting married? But... How old are you?” I blurted.
She didn’t really understand what I was talking about, I could tell by the way she looked at me, but she answered anyway. It sounded like she was the older one here, and I was the one being scoffed at.
“I’m nine. I’ll be ten in forty-three days. Most people are usually married by the time they’re eleven. I’ve been engaged to Dante’ since I was six months old.”
I tried not to let it show on my face the horror that statement sent shivering through me. I pitied the girl, and was even considering shaking whoever had invented that tradition by the neck, but she was beaming like it was the best thing in the world. I smiled weakly. “That’s great, Merian. I’m very glad to have met you.”
“As well am I, and I can’t wait until we’re officially family. Anyway, Dante’s probably getting impatent.” she said, and with that, she smiled and left me, as quickly as she'd appeared, to dither in my own thoughts.
How sick and twisted, I thought bitterly, but at the same time, this was the norm for them. I had noticed, when looking around, that there was almost no one sitting with me on the chairs that lined the side of the room, and Merian’s statement about eleven being the normal age to get married explained why.
At the same time, though, it left a major question open: why wasn’t one of the most highly sought after bachelors, Talon Cavalay, married at nineteen? Even if he
was a new specimen of jerk, he was still highly ranked in a list of beautiful people.
I sighed, and finally hunted out the two most stunning people in the ballroom just out of curiosity. Annisa was talking animatedly, and Talon was laughing at her, swirling her around like she was Cinderella.
I stood up and made sure that I wasn’t being watched. I was so sick of being the observer when happy things happened and not being able to interfere with the balance; to throw myself into the crowd, blend in, and have some kind of chance at a little of the fun.
But I couldn't. Ever. As a Traveler, I was destined to sit on the sidelines and complain as my whole self-being fell apart with the gloom.
I didn’t care that my fake fiancee was dancing with a completely gorgeous witch. It was the atmosphere in the room that was crushing me.
My whole intent was to go back to the palace by myself. I knew I would be close to the only “Lady” there who wasn’t still dancing, but it was worth it if I could cry myself to sleep and get rid of the numbness that came with not belonging where I was.
I walked around the floor, making sure that no one noticed that I was alone and headed in a beeline towards the door.
A stabbing pain hit me three quarters of the way around the room, and my vision blurred as I began seeing tiny dots of assorted colors.
"What the..." I said frantically, not seeing any assassins around who were out to get revenge on Talon. I couldn’t breathe, and when I looked down to see a red stain blossoming on the side of my beautiful dress, tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t think of anything except for the fact that the one dress that I’d ever worn that would ever
qualify as a wedding dress was ruined.
Someone shrieked my name, but I couldn’t see who from the way my vision was clouding up. What had just happened? Was I getting ready to jump? Was I dying this time – For real?
I purposely didn’t try to stop myself from passing out. If there was anyway I could possibly avoid feeling the pain of my lungs, seeing my stained dress, and tasting the bile that had risen in my throat, it was fainting.
That, luckily, was something I found that I was still able to do.
