Thread: Distrust & Intentions || Prodi & Mach

A whirlwind. The last three weeks had been a whirlwind that felt like they'd never cease. In the first week when the announcement had been made, there'd been two days of false calm--after that, every moment had been spent on the wedding and her subsequent move to the Trevaine castle. She'd received so many letters from friends and acquaintances, all of them obviously shocked by the news. For her closest friends, their shock came from the fact that Charlotte had never let on she was close to an engagement of any kind, and now that she was engaged it wasn't even to the one man that had been a prospect. Then there was everyone else, her friends as well she supposed, who were stunned to hear that the groom would be Maximilian Trevaine. The politically correct explanation she'd had to read again and again was that the shock came from the fact that she and Max hadn't been seen together at any social gathering in years. But the words left unsaid in some of the letters were clear Maximilian wasn't the marrying type. It wasn't in Charlotte's nature to do anything ostentatious enough to make her the center of attention and to suddenly be an object of public speculation was somewhat unbearable. The single bit of solace she had was that no one knew the truth. In fact, she liked the knowledge that people could think whatever they wanted, because they would truly never know--even if they thought they did. It was this that helped her answer each letter with incredibly generic, fake happy replies. Still, it was hard for her to not be restless. Several times she sat down at her desk to write Max a letter, but each time she never even began. What would she say? They couldn't discuss the reality at hand because it would be too dangerous to put it in writing. There was also the fact that a letter never came from him. Had she expected one? There had once been a time when she'd rushed down the halls to see if his latest reply had arrived...but that was a long time ago. She wasn't used to him occupying her thoughts so frequently, not anymore. Putting on a nightgown was no longer a simple, mindless routine. It filled her mind with him until it became impossible to fall asleep. She lay in bed and remembered what it felt like to have the weight of him beside her, the weight of him on top of her. Her first instinct was embarrassment, the sudden flashes of heat it brought on, or the throbbing between her legs that would go on for hours--all of it was Max. Would he want to consummate their marriage on their wedding night when they'd technically already done so? Did he not write because all of this was purely business, a political agreement that he wanted to go as smoothly as possible? It had escaped her attention in the moment, but she'd had three weeks to agonize over the fact that he had endless experience while she knew next to nothing. Had she been...disappointing? By the time the Trevaine family was in the castle and it was the night before the big event, the whirlwind that was her life now whirled inside of her. Charlotte had to guess that even under normal circumstances all of this anxiety would have racked her, because no one treated her as though she were acting abnormal. But when she thought of walking down the aisle to Max, or returning to her bedroom tomorrow night, she was so nervous her body shook. That was how her mother and Max's mother found her curled up into a ball on her bed, arms around her faithful dog Pancake. They didn't bring up the realities behind the marriage, but the empathy she could see in their gazes gave her immense relief. The hour of girl talk they gave her was a medicine she hadn't known she needed. They talked about family, about her hair, the Trevaine castle, everything. Her mother revealed that Max's mother had arranged for a letter to be delivered the morning after her kidnapping. It was stunning, yet it made so much sense. At the time she'd just wanted to see her parents, but looking back they'd made it to her incredibly quickly. Max's mother hadn't been a fan of the kiddnapping, but knew she couldn't stop her husband. So instead, she arranged the letter--to minimize Charlotte's suffering and the possibility of anyone discovering what had happened. Without her action, Charlotte could have been stuck at the Trevaine castle for days, and concealing her whereabouts like that would have been impossible. Knowing this, knowing that someone was on her side, it gave Charlotte the peace she needed to fall asleep that night. Charlotte was woken up by her lady's maids to get her prepared and dressed. It was her wedding day. Her long blonde hair was delicately swept up with pins, leaving the slender curve of her neck and collarbone bare. Small white buds of Baby's Breath were placed throughout, her tiara being placed last--the translucent tulle of her veil accompanying the intricate gold and diamond design. By some royal's standards her dress would be simple, but the elegance of it was what had captured her. The corset bodice had a delicate lace design, the lace covering her arms as long sleeves. She'd never been a fan of large skirts, and didn't intend to start now. There was no access amounts of tulle to fluff up the skirts, only the silky, pure white material flowing all the way to the floor. The skirt of the dress extended back to form a modest train. Her hands shook as she picked up her bouquet of white and lavender flowers, the reality finally sinking in completely. She was marrying Maximilian.