Queen Bee

Wedding Bells

His hands reach out for me, but I quickly move away as a gross feeling of betrayal clouds my body.

"Adela, please-"

"What did you just say?"

"Adela, I didn't want to but-"

"Did you just say you...you..." I let out a shriek, anger filling my veins. Olivier manages to sit up and swing his legs to the side of his bed as I decide whether or not to punch him.

"Adela, you know I wouldn't do this if-"

"But you did!" Suddenly, all I want to do is hurt him as his annoying words echo in my head.

"The king made me, Adela, and I knew he was going to kill them anyway! I just didn't want him to hurt you! Please understand, it was the only way!"

"The only way? What is that supposed to mean!? I can't believe I trusted you."

"Adela-" his voice breaks as he stumbles out of the bed, falling to his knees beneath me.

"I'm sorry!" His words come with tears from his eyes, and maybe a little of mine.

"I wish I could believe you." His hands clamp onto my clothes, not letting me go as I try to turn away.

"Adela, I just wanted you to know the truth before he could tell you!" I pry his hands off me and push them away with a huff. I hear him call my name as the door slams behind me. Before I know it, I'm in Jule's room again. It seems like the only place I can go to get some quiet as tears flood my eyes. I sit on his bed, surrounded by the darkness, and let out a scream that makes my head throb in pain. I cover my face with my hands as a feeling of coldness wraps around my heart. I don't hear the door, but somebody is now at my side with their hand on my shoulder.

"What's the matter, Dear?" Jule's voice strikes something in me, causing the feelings to all die for a moment.

"I would like to be married as soon as possible." I ignore the smile on his face as he pats me on the back.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses, I'll have the preparations set for this evening." After a moment he says "May I ask what caused this change of heart?" He knows the answer, I can hear it in his voice.

"I have ties to no other. We need to begin moving on from this situation."

"How very," he sucks in a breath, "adult of you, Adela. Tonight will be perfect, I promise." He gets up quickly, leaving me to finish crying in his room alone.

I stand in front of the mirror, my face still pink and puffy. Anna stands next to me, nervously wringing her hands as we look at me in this dress.

"Is it alright?" She asks, a frown shadowing her face.

"Yes." I don't look at it, it's white and that's enough for me.

"Are you sure it's all alright?" She asks again, starting to annoy me.

"Yes, I'm fine with it."

"Are you sure?" I glare sharply at her and she finally takes the hint to stop talking. I sit in the chair in front of my vanity and Anna begins picking out the makeup for tonight. In just a couple of hours, I'll be walking down the aisle to seal my fate and protect my country.

"Pink or red for you lips?" She holds the colors up with a wide smile, and I nod towards the red. She sits in front of me, decidely starting with the powder for my face.

"May I say something, Your Highness?" She says, dabbing a large brush in the powder.

"Fine."

"You...don't have to do this." She flings the brush across my mouth to keep me from responding.

"Sawney already has a plan and it's actually a really good one, especially seeing as he is usually-" I grab the brush, pulling it down from my face.

"I'm getting married tonight, for my country. And for me. If the plan works, great. I'll just have to find another man to marry and be his little wife for the rest of our life. If the plan doesn't work, I'll have a husband who takes care of me and a thriving Astaria for the rest of our lives. Understand?"

"No."

"Well, then I can take it from here." I take the powder from her and begin applying it in the mirror. She stands, a stunned look on her face.

"Adela, I know you're upset-"

"I said I can take it from here." I don't watch her leave, but I hear the door slam on the way out and I smile to myself.

I'm just finishing up the last of my makeup when there comes a small knock from the door.

"Come in." I call out, standing to greet the unexpected guest. Manuel's lean body strides in dressed in expensive looking clothes you couldn't get anywhere near Astaria. His smile looks authentic as he bows and kisses my hand in greeting.

"You look even more lovely than ever, Your Highness." He stands tall, one hand behind his back as his other slicks his own hair back.

"Thank you."

"Are you ready for tonight?" His eyes wander around my room and I can't help but notice that he smells like fruit.

"Yes. Are you here to escort me?" He stops mid-gaze and looks as if he suddenly remembers why he came.

"Oh, yes! Are you ready for that?" I nod, and in a sweeping motion he offers me his free hand. I take it, letting Manuel lead me out into the hall. As we walk, Manuel begins speaking endlessly about the wedding.

"...Even in such short notice, we were able to obtain a good amount of guests from the surrounding villages. Dukes and duchesses and those sort, yes? Many were quick and smart to give their loyalty to the new king and his future queen, thought not everybody..." He continues on, talking about how he singlehandedly planned the entire night of festivities. We arrive in front of the doors that lead to the church in the castle. Though we never attended, Father built it for the servants and I was always a little jealous that they got to sit in the velvet pews every Sunday morning as a child.

"When the music starts playing, you enter. Got it?" Manuel says, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes, I can do that."

"Good! And good luck!" He pats my hand before taking off down the hallway and yelling at a poor servant for something. Now that I have a moment to myself, I take the time to look at the intricate gold detail on the doors and allow a wave of nervousness wash over me. Am I really doing this? It all seemed like the right idea in the moment, but now I'm not so sure. Was I too hard and quick to judge with Olivier? No, of course not. He murdered my parents and brought me into this whole mess. I wonder if he was in on this plan the whole time and just pretended not to know? Before I can convince myself other wise, the sound of a piano reaches me through the doors, cuing me to start walking in. With a deep breath I push the doors open and a burst of light greets. The usual humble look of the church has been transformed with white flowers and decorations streamed across the room. About a dozen guests sit in the pews and stand in unison when I enter. It's a flood of faces I've never seen before and suddenly my heart begins to pump. This is until I smell the familiar scent of Earth and soil. In the very back pew sits Sawney dressed in somebody's very expensive clothing. I almost don't recognize him with a hat covering his face. We make eye contact and he smiles, pretending not to see me so he can come to the end of the pew. I take a step and pretend to get my dress caught on the rug. He bends down to help me, and I lower my head to his ears as he pretends to fix the problem.

"Don't you dare do anything, Sawney." I whisper and he looks up at me, confused. He mouths the word "why" and I feign a smile as I continue down the aisle. Ahead I see Jules, dressed in an all white suit. He beams at me, his gaze covering my entire body. Once I make it up to him, the music ceases and the man next to him begins the ceremony. The guests sit, looking almost like dolls with their perfect hair and clothes. All except for Sawney, who thankfully still sits in the back hunched over. Jules clears his throat and I look back at him, his eyes reprimanding me quietly.

"And so do you, Princess Adela of Astaria, daughter of His Former-Majesty King Harald, take His Majesty King Jules of Franse to be your husband? To have and to hold through all circumstances of life and 'till death do you part?" It's wordy, and definitely not the usual script these people use at weddings.

"Yes, I do." The words are out of my mouth before I know it, sealing my fate even more.

"And do you, Your Majesty King Harald of Franse the second, son of His Former-Majesty King Harald The First take Her Highness Princess Adela of Astaria to be your wife and..." the man pauses to look back down at his notes, "your reigning queen beside you? To have and to hold through all circumstances of life and 'till death do you part?"

"I do, of course." He smiles, eyes still not moved from off of me.

"Then, according to Astarian law, I pronounce Adela to now be Her Majesty and you to be King of Franse, and you both to be husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Before my brain has time to catch up, Jules has forced his lips on mine and the audience applauses. Jules squeezes my arm, kissing harder. He lets go once I begin kissing back and music begin to play in the background. The taste of alcohol and his lips finally stop as we begin walking down the aisle together. People's voices ring around me as we walk past, but I hear no words. I notice Sawney isn't in the back anymore and begin looking around for him.

"First we'll go to the party, then we'll get down to business after, alright? I've had to wait very long for this though, so I don't think we'll stay at the party long." He smirks and that same cold feeling trickles through my insides. We lead the guests to a large banquet hall with a table decorated with every food imaginable. Jules forces me into a chair right next to him on the end, pushing the chair so far up that I can barely breath. He calls for a toast, downing the first glass of wine of the night. I ignore him as he makes conversation with the people next to us. I find myself wishing that Olivier was here for a moment, before remembering what he did to me. I guess my face reflected my feelings because Jules takes it upon himself to grab my chin and pull it up to his face.

"Aren't you happy, My Dear? Would you rather we left now?" My heart drops.

"No, I would like to enjoy this longer. I'm just hungry is all." I give a smile and lets my face go.

"I'm starving as well." His voice is low and I have a feeling he's not talking about food even as I watch him fill his plate. He gives me a plate with about a third of as much food as his. I pretend to eat some fruit, as I feign a happy appearance, though I know I'm anything but that.