Thread: Two Households, Both Alike in Dignity (Findarato and Lemon)

A sharp tug and snap, the fashion repeated as she sat in the high-back chair, gazing towards herself in the full-length mirror before her. The woman that was insistently smoothing out her hair, was one of the many servants well-trained in the arts of readying a bride. They had done this countless times before, for centuries. Venessa had always assumed since she was a child, that this day would be a very happy one. Yet, it felt as if she were in mourning, rather than enlightenment. She was signing off her rights at being her people's beloved sovereign. To know.. that her two weeks was finally up, and now here she sat, watching as her long hair was pushed up into a braided bun, curls framing her delicate face and teasing at the sharp lines of her jaw. It was all a waste, she thought, listening to her mother chattering about this and that behind her. You look beautiful. Venessa merely nodded, trying to avoid the elder's gaze, but soon enough her mother leaned over her shoulder as the servant went off to retrieve a few bobby-pins, and grasped her chin. Forcing her child to look at her, she spoke firmly, You are to give this mutt an heir, do you hear me? It is all up to you, to make this work Venessa. Do not make a mistake, and lose your temper. This is your fate, you are to be his forever.. and with this alliance, we shall finally be able to take down our common foes. We have reached our limits, and only you.. can save us. Her attention was infinite, admiring the way her daughter's eyes shone nothing but sadness, icy hues tearing up.. and threatening to ruin the smoky powder that aligned them sensually. You will be fine, my darling.. you are a very strong woman, and you will give both of our families a gorgeous, healthy baby.. The dress was tight, horribly so. She was forced to breathe in a quick, frantic rhythm to keep herself conscious, the thin material of ivory silken lace coating her like a second skin. Much like the gown she had worn weeks prior, the neckline was plunging, exposing the alabaster swells of her breasts. Yet, it did nothing to take away the glory that was the back of this masterpiece. Completely bare, and reaching to a point just above her plump bottom, it revealed the tattooed insignia of her race. Decorated vibrantly in sharp, thick lines of black, swirling and accentuating the arch of her spine, it contrasted strikingly against her pale, fair flesh. Venessa was certainly a sight to see, lips painted a plush hue of ruby, and a gentle sweeping of pink tickling at the apex of her cheekbones. Her veil was long, trailing back with her dress, which flowed behind her a good few feet or so. She looked everything she should for the part she was about to play, the praised daughter of her father, the head of the most powerful House. It was a pity, though, that her beauty could not reach skin deep and brighten her mood. As she stood at the end of the aisle, the haunting, romantic notes of the piano playing afar, she couldn't take her eyes off of the ground. It was not due to the height of her heels, or the inability to move about freely.. but rather, she avoided looking at him . She did not want to believe that Zlatan was waiting for her, a man that wanted nothing more than the entire extinction of her species. She knew she would not be met with a smile, but rather, a snarl. A glare of pure and unadulterated hate. She could feel the stares on her, forcing her nerves to prick with annoyance as her father walked her closer and closer to her unavoidable defeat. The smooth, luxurious curves of her hips swayed all the while, delicate fingers lightly clenching as her bosom rose and fell quickly. She felt frightened, wanting nothing more than to turn and run.. flee from this horrible mistake. Yet, she had made it, standing a foot from the other who loomed over her, it was only then that she raised her chin up and met his eyes. Long lashes fluttered and her father let go of her, forcing her to raise her hand, waiting for it to be taken by her fiance. Venessa couldn't stop staring at him, a chilled sense of nausea taking hold of her innards. Why, why did this have to happen to her...