- Joined
- Jun 25, 2010
- Location
- Hogwarts
Villagers gathered outside of the chapel doors. A royal wedding was to take place between both a princess from afar and their prince. The princess was said to be beautiful with the sweetest of dispositions. The only daughter to King Otho of Dwinmer. The Kings arranged the marriage, not only for the sake of their kingdoms as a pact but for the sake of the future king to be. The future looked grim with their Prince as he was. The only heir to the king. The subjects had their hopes on the princess. Praying that she could salvage their prince and have any effect on the sourness of his personality, but he could just as easily chew her up and spit her out. It was anyone's guess.
Gabriella Delaroux's heart sunk. Her husband had not even bothered seeing her the day before the wedding. There were other princess' out there and she was doomed to wed him. She knew what he looked like and he was handsome, to say the least. Women threw themselves at him. He was rumored to be the worst of the worst. She had witnessed his open lewdness first hand. Never mind the royal title, he was arrogant, brutish, and cared for no one but himself. Knights dashed down the hall and green orbs closed as the raven-haired bride with the ivory skin prayed that her prince of a groom was a complete no show. Several royals occupied the chairs before the altar. The church was ornately decorated for the royal wedding so many awaited. The bride stood at the altar. A flowing white gown with the only color to her attire being a ruby nestled in the valley of her bust.
Father David stood in his robes atop the altar with a bible in his hand as he conversed with a guard, hoping for an update on the whereabouts of the groom. Gabby could only hope that he would just outright refuse. The King gave him little to no options. No marriage, no kingdom, or so she was told. Could the arrogant prince defy his own King of a father? Eola's mother told her she had a duty to her new home and this was not for her but for the kingdom she was destined to rule. Funny since Gabriella was sure that her new husband would give her little say in the ruling of their kingdom. This was a disaster in the making.
The princess never thought she would ever be so happy to have been stood up on her wedding day, but she may have spoken prematurely as knights were on the hunt for her groom. She would not be shocked if he was nesting in a bed of harlots, where he could stay, as far as Eola was concerned. She was neither a damsel in distress nor a money hungry whore. If he showed up... if they were wed...she would not be broken.
A soft hand caressed at the lace-covered shoulder of the princess and a smile was gifted to the woman in silent distress. "All will be well. " Lydia's long golden tresses were pinned up with a few left to cascade down and around a very angelic looking face. Blue eyes challenged the crystal clear skies above and the body held a grace that could not be ignored. The Princess' lady-in-waiting was nothing to be scoffed at. She could rival the princess herself, even in a simple blue gown. Lydia had been listening to those around her. The woman was the eyes and ear for her mistress, especially in this brand new setting. "He's good to the people...." It was a feeble attempt to shoo away the butterflies until the groom was found. Until that moment the foreign bride and her lady in waiting waited at the altar.
Gabriella Delaroux's heart sunk. Her husband had not even bothered seeing her the day before the wedding. There were other princess' out there and she was doomed to wed him. She knew what he looked like and he was handsome, to say the least. Women threw themselves at him. He was rumored to be the worst of the worst. She had witnessed his open lewdness first hand. Never mind the royal title, he was arrogant, brutish, and cared for no one but himself. Knights dashed down the hall and green orbs closed as the raven-haired bride with the ivory skin prayed that her prince of a groom was a complete no show. Several royals occupied the chairs before the altar. The church was ornately decorated for the royal wedding so many awaited. The bride stood at the altar. A flowing white gown with the only color to her attire being a ruby nestled in the valley of her bust.
Father David stood in his robes atop the altar with a bible in his hand as he conversed with a guard, hoping for an update on the whereabouts of the groom. Gabby could only hope that he would just outright refuse. The King gave him little to no options. No marriage, no kingdom, or so she was told. Could the arrogant prince defy his own King of a father? Eola's mother told her she had a duty to her new home and this was not for her but for the kingdom she was destined to rule. Funny since Gabriella was sure that her new husband would give her little say in the ruling of their kingdom. This was a disaster in the making.
The princess never thought she would ever be so happy to have been stood up on her wedding day, but she may have spoken prematurely as knights were on the hunt for her groom. She would not be shocked if he was nesting in a bed of harlots, where he could stay, as far as Eola was concerned. She was neither a damsel in distress nor a money hungry whore. If he showed up... if they were wed...she would not be broken.
A soft hand caressed at the lace-covered shoulder of the princess and a smile was gifted to the woman in silent distress. "All will be well. " Lydia's long golden tresses were pinned up with a few left to cascade down and around a very angelic looking face. Blue eyes challenged the crystal clear skies above and the body held a grace that could not be ignored. The Princess' lady-in-waiting was nothing to be scoffed at. She could rival the princess herself, even in a simple blue gown. Lydia had been listening to those around her. The woman was the eyes and ear for her mistress, especially in this brand new setting. "He's good to the people...." It was a feeble attempt to shoo away the butterflies until the groom was found. Until that moment the foreign bride and her lady in waiting waited at the altar.