By the time the wedding day rolled around, she was so used to counting every breath, feeling every moment, that it went by slowly, deliberately, and she felt no anxiety. The dress was put on, her hair and makeup done, and she didn’t think about what lay ahead.
She felt a fluttering in her stomach, put her hand on it and breathed as the baby moved within her.
That was what her life was made of. These little moments of luxury, this life growing within her.
There was beauty. As long as she looked at every moment, rather than the whole of it all.
The florist put a bouquet in her hands, brilliant lilies, all pink and grand, and she looked at those, took in the scent.
What a wonderful moment.
She was in a glorious dress; she had never looked more beautiful. She was holding a bouquet of beautiful flowers, and her baby was moving.
Whatever happened afterward didn’t matter. She focused on the small things. On the ring on her left hand, which Onyx hadn’t put there. It had been sent to her room, glorious and stunning. Indefinably lovely.
Beautiful.
There were so many beautiful things.
Even when your heart was broken.
She took a breath, and realized that she was outside the chapel on the palace grounds.
How beautiful. Ornate, carved stone. It was a lovely day. The sky was clear and blue, the sun high and warming. Everything was fine.
The smell of early spring, combined with her bouquet was intoxicating. Everything was fine.
She took a step into the chapel, and she focused on the stained glass. The lovely, carved wooden doors that separated her from the sanctuary.
Everything was just fine. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Nothing.
And then the doors opened, and she made the mistake of looking ahead. Not at the flagstone floor, with its brilliant carving, but all the way down at the end of the long aisle, with every seat in the place full. There was a priest. And there was Onyx. Severe in a dark suit, and staring at her. She hadn’t seen him since that day he had informed her that the wedding would be taking place.
She hadn’t wanted to. She had just wanted to breathe, and be.
But suddenly it didn’t feel possible. Because he was looking at her. And she felt like she was going to shatter.
She tried to catch her breath, tried to be in the moment. But she couldn’t ignore now that every step was taking her toward him. And she couldn’t ignore the way that he affected her body, still. She had been numb to it, ever since he had come to the house to fetch her. She had been in a bubble the past few days. Or perhaps it was just shock.
Was that what the past few days had been? She had thought that it might be something like happiness. But no.
It had been denial. Denying exactly what was happening today. Doing her best not to think about it because it was the only thing that let her feel good.
Because it was the only thing that had made it feel like she could get through this.
Her legs were trembling now, and she thought that she might pass out. The way her gown flowed over her curves, it wasn’t impossible to see her stomach, and maybe everybody was looking at it. Maybe everybody was looking at it, and they knew.
That she had disregarded her own safety and sanity, and touched the king, a lowly servant who hadn’t any right to do that.
They would look like exactly what they were. A shotgun wedding. They would look like two people who had given into passion with no regard for anything else.
And while that had been a beautiful moment in time for her, it didn’t feel like it now. It felt scalding and embarrassing. It felt like the end of her.
It felt like dying.
Every breath now felt like it was closer to the last one she would ever take, and that felt perilously close to dying.
