Elexia stood in her throne room in perhaps the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen, holding an immense bouquet of wildflowers and she was over it.
She had been dressed by her handmaidens, painted with the greatest of hair, had her hair pulled and curled and piled on top of her head, but yet this beauty that had been composed was gaining her no more respect. She was to marry the man in front of her who had not even had the dignity of putting on a mask of beauty for his blushing bride. Yet that blush was not of her excitement or of embarrassment or even anticipation, it was of a seething rage bubbling just beneath her powdered cheeks.
This prince was a fine prince, most had told her. He was learned, this was true in the sense that his family had sought to bring him a tutors in every conceivable subject, but his lack of deep understanding of any of the topics made Elexia think he should have been given focus rather than trivial topics. He was handsome they had said, but Elexia thought that that was perhaps just because most who had seen him was at a distance. The prince did cut a good figure and he was in shape, but the closer you got to him the more you saw that he did not have eyes that sparkled with intelligence or kindness, but rather dulled with lack of any passion. His smile was not bright, but rather just a plaster permanently affixed to his face. His skin was not clear nor did it evoke that he worked hard, it was just unwashed. He was honorable, but Elexia had already learned how he liked to have his way with the servants or whomever he pleased whether or not they pleased. Perhaps honorable meant that he was a good warrior, but Elexia had heard he was more the type to watch his men die from a far off vantage point than to fight alongside him. The prince was rich and had large tracts of land. Now this was actually true and it was the reason that Elexia had allowed things to go this far. She needed his riches and land if she was to execute her plans.
And so she stood in her throne room and watched her soon-to-be husband approach the altar where they would be married. The ceremony began with as much pomp and circumstance as her family's clout and wealth could muster. The priest gave a long speech about how they would be bound until death in both man's and God's laws. This was key to Elexia. She had, when consulting with her priest, carefully asked if it was the ceremony that wed them and crowned them in the eyes of the law and God or if it was the wedding night. She feigned a girlish blush and coyness and it worked with the priest. The priest assured her that the ceremony was the binding aspect and that she should not fear the wedding night and that, in fact, if she preferred the wedding night activities could be postponed if it would make her feel more assured. Elexia had smiled kindly, allowing the blush to linger as she'd thanked the priest and took her leave.
As the close of the ceremony was coming to an end, Elexia clutched her bouquet and appreciated the extra weight that she and her most trusted hand maiden, whom had been a victim of the prince's less than honorable actions, had placed in it. The priest instructed the prince to kiss her and Elexia complied, managing to prevent him from jamming his serpent tongue into her mouth. As he pulled away, the priest declared, "I know pronounce you husband and wife. May all greet their king and queen!"
The prince held Elexia's hand triumphantly high and she seized her chance. She wrenched it behind his back and drew her dagger from the bouquet, letting the flowers fall to the floor, strewing petals delicately about the prince's feet. "It's time for us to part, my king."
"Her highness is surely just making a spectacle," someone in the crowd stammered.
Elexia stabbed her husband and king. "Her highness is done with this bullshit thank you very much."
(Prompt by Elena Westbrook)
She had been dressed by her handmaidens, painted with the greatest of hair, had her hair pulled and curled and piled on top of her head, but yet this beauty that had been composed was gaining her no more respect. She was to marry the man in front of her who had not even had the dignity of putting on a mask of beauty for his blushing bride. Yet that blush was not of her excitement or of embarrassment or even anticipation, it was of a seething rage bubbling just beneath her powdered cheeks.
This prince was a fine prince, most had told her. He was learned, this was true in the sense that his family had sought to bring him a tutors in every conceivable subject, but his lack of deep understanding of any of the topics made Elexia think he should have been given focus rather than trivial topics. He was handsome they had said, but Elexia thought that that was perhaps just because most who had seen him was at a distance. The prince did cut a good figure and he was in shape, but the closer you got to him the more you saw that he did not have eyes that sparkled with intelligence or kindness, but rather dulled with lack of any passion. His smile was not bright, but rather just a plaster permanently affixed to his face. His skin was not clear nor did it evoke that he worked hard, it was just unwashed. He was honorable, but Elexia had already learned how he liked to have his way with the servants or whomever he pleased whether or not they pleased. Perhaps honorable meant that he was a good warrior, but Elexia had heard he was more the type to watch his men die from a far off vantage point than to fight alongside him. The prince was rich and had large tracts of land. Now this was actually true and it was the reason that Elexia had allowed things to go this far. She needed his riches and land if she was to execute her plans.
And so she stood in her throne room and watched her soon-to-be husband approach the altar where they would be married. The ceremony began with as much pomp and circumstance as her family's clout and wealth could muster. The priest gave a long speech about how they would be bound until death in both man's and God's laws. This was key to Elexia. She had, when consulting with her priest, carefully asked if it was the ceremony that wed them and crowned them in the eyes of the law and God or if it was the wedding night. She feigned a girlish blush and coyness and it worked with the priest. The priest assured her that the ceremony was the binding aspect and that she should not fear the wedding night and that, in fact, if she preferred the wedding night activities could be postponed if it would make her feel more assured. Elexia had smiled kindly, allowing the blush to linger as she'd thanked the priest and took her leave.
As the close of the ceremony was coming to an end, Elexia clutched her bouquet and appreciated the extra weight that she and her most trusted hand maiden, whom had been a victim of the prince's less than honorable actions, had placed in it. The priest instructed the prince to kiss her and Elexia complied, managing to prevent him from jamming his serpent tongue into her mouth. As he pulled away, the priest declared, "I know pronounce you husband and wife. May all greet their king and queen!"
The prince held Elexia's hand triumphantly high and she seized her chance. She wrenched it behind his back and drew her dagger from the bouquet, letting the flowers fall to the floor, strewing petals delicately about the prince's feet. "It's time for us to part, my king."
"Her highness is surely just making a spectacle," someone in the crowd stammered.
Elexia stabbed her husband and king. "Her highness is done with this bullshit thank you very much."
(Prompt by Elena Westbrook)
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