Three day. All I was given to prepare for the wedding day was three days. And I didn't even have the satisfaction of preparing from the comfort of my home. I had to do it all in a guest suite at the castle.
But it's not like the preparation was difficult. The first day, Kingsley and I sat down with a wedding planner. Kingsley and I were seated on a love seat and before I could react, he pulled me up to his chest. I swallowed the instinct to slap the cheese out of him, but went along, acting the part of the blushing bride. We arranged everything from invitations to the dress.
The dress was to be made of beautiful white silk. The bodice gave the appearance of being wrapped while the skirt fell gracefully to a puddle at my feet. The dress would be strapless, and the wedding planner explained that it would show a lot of cleavage. I snuck a peek at Kingsley. He was smiling broadly, his eyes lit up in anticipation. I scoffed at him mentally and rolled my eyes. The perv.
We came to the topic of bridesmaids and the maid-of-honor. Had I known weddings were such hard work, I might have said no. Well, that wasn't exactly true. I've always had a problem saying "no" to people. I found I was looking at my feet again and looked up to find both the wedding planner and Kingsley looking expectantly at me. Luckily, I remembered their question.
"Unless you want a donkey to be the made-of-honor and chickens as bridesmaids, I've got nothing for you." Kingsley smiled and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me.
Luckily, the wedding planner interrupted. The rest of the planning went by and soon Kingsley and I were walking away in separate corridors. I had given no opinion on anything...because I didn't have one. In my logic, this was really Kingsley's wedding, not mine. Sure, he was marrying me, but I would never tell him that I didn't actually want to be married, let alone to him. I was certain his heart would break if I told him that.
I woke up the next morning in my castle suite. Already, I hated this room. It was always dead quiet at night, no noises came from the walls settling or rats skittering along the stone floor. I hated the smells. My room back at the cottage always had the distinct aroma of wildflowers mixed in with the subtle scent of laundry soap. Here, it smelled a lot like cleaning supplies. I especially hated the emotions that came with waking up in the castle. The knowing that I may never see my little cottage again. The knowing that every hour that ticked by, meant that I was one hour closer to marrying Kingsley.
Dread always settled in my stomach, and this was especially so this morning. Today, I was scheduled to meet Kingsley's mom and dad. The Royal Couple. I was sure they were expecting their son to marry a high-class lady. I snorted. All the "high-class" ladies at the ball two nights ago had been perverted and literally begged to have sex with Kingsley. I began to think I was the only woman in the world with self-respect.
It's not like I was becoming vain. I had a right to be proud of myself. Obviously Kingsley had no control when it came to me. His looks that studied my body and curves certainly said enough. And it was clear what he had in mind when, on the night he brought me to the castle, he asked me if I would be more comfortable inhissuite.
I sat up and stretched, deciding I wanted to be up and married already, so I didn't have to deal with all these formalities of planning a ceremony I never wanted.
I stared at the ceiling as I lay in bed, mulling over the brief meeting I had with Kingsley's that ended only a few minutes before.
It started out well enough, with the Queen grinning broadly as she offered me a comfortable seat. The King didn't look like he wanted to chop my head off, so I assumed he approved of me marrying his son. We began talking about how Kingsley and I met. As I was talking, I wondered how well Kingsley's relationship with his parents was. They seemed to think that Kingsley and I had fallen in love long before the ball.
Then the King asked me about my father's status, and all I could do was stare dumbly at him.
"Excuse me?" I had asked meekly and softly.Oh no,I thought,here we go.
"Is your father a duke or an earl? Perhaps a lord?"
I gulped. "No, sir."
The Queen looked delighted. "Oh! You must be a princess visiting from another country!"
I shook my head. "No, ma'am. I'm not a princess."
A tense silence fell over the Royal Couple. I looked down at my feet. "Then what, persay, are you?"
"J-Just a commoner. Sir."Oh this is going to be fun.
"A WHAT?!" the King screeched.
"Get out of our living room, you filthy gold-digger!" The Queen howled. I stood up and began to walk towards the door. A china plate shattered on the wall to the left of my head.
"GET OUT!" the King bellowed. I ran away from the couple, imagining the Queen chasing me with a long, ugly butcher knife.
I had passed Kingsley in the hall, but didn't slow down. Even when he called my name.
I only felt safe when I plopped down on my waiting bed. Tears began to flow and I began to mull over the brief meeting with Kingsley's parents....