Thread: Distrust & Intentions || Prodi & Mach

Somehow, once she'd uttered the words, I do. she felt so much calmer. It was like letting out a breath she'd been holding. They were married and there was no going back. Now, they would have to move forward as partners, and figure out what that looked like for the two of them. That was a prospect Charlotte felt sure they could manage, and it was that optimism in her heart that had leaned into Maximillian's kiss. Only they would know it wasn't the first kiss, but this one was so much different. When she opened her eyes, she was looking at her husband. Finally, she let the giddiness of the day wash over her, and she smiled brightly at him before they turned to head back down the aisle together. They were met with more joyous applause outside the church, and the infectious energy surged through the air. They'd made the people so happy! Charlotte waved to as many as she could before they were in the carriage again, being whisked off to the next event. The reception was truly lovely. She knew that her father was not happy, but he'd told her quietly before the day had begun that this day would have been unhappy for him no matter what. Even a king was a father, after all. He didn't know, but Charlotte had always been aware even as a child that her father hadn't wanted her to end up with Maximilian. She was sure he had his reasons, and it had bothered her a lot more when she was younger--now it was just something they would have to live with. To his credit, he didn't ruin the party and did his best to partake as genuinely as possible. If she'd been nervous about having a conversation with Max after the wedding, she'd been wasting her time. Everything afterward was another whirlwind, this one far more pleasant. That being said, there were countless guests, all of whom were dying to speak to each of them. Every now and then she and Max might look up at one another at the same time, share that brief eye contact and bewilderment before being swept up by more people to congratulate them. It was only when her mother forced her to take a plate did she realize that she hadn't eaten anything that day. More people had been invited than she might have liked, but the wedding was obviously political. Not only were there Max's guests and her guests, but there were also lots of obligatory guests. There were some people present that she hadn't seen since she was a child, one of them being Ingrid. In fact, Charlotte couldn't even remember her last name, but how could she forget that bright red hair? Why hadn't she and Ingrid kept in touch? Ingrid greeted her like an old friend, and she was so infectiously warm that Charlotte openly remarked that she should write to her as soon as possible. Oh good! I was so hoping that we could really be friends now that you're with Maximilian. Oh, so she was technically Max's guest? That would make more sense, she supposed. More people were bustling around them, and it was clear that Charlotte should go mingle, but it was also clear by the look she gave Ingrid that she didn't want to. Ingrid read it loud and clear, openly laughing. Enjoy it! And congratulations again--I mean it, really, enjoy it all . Ingrid leaned in, resting her fingers on the crook of Charlotte's elbow as she added, Max has such a talented mouth. Charlotte cocked her head to the side in confusion, finding her turn of phrase unusual. What did she say to that? Mmm, yes...well, he does have a certain...quick wit. It was Ingrid's turn to look confused, which only made Charlotte more lost. They never got to finish the moment, however, as a small group of older noble ladies came forward, demanding the bride's attention without much care for what she'd been doing. The revelry continued for hours, very quickly wearing out an introvert like Charlotte. Luckily, she knew that as the bride, she'd be discretely slipping away early. The bliss of the quiet hallway lasted just a few minutes, because once her lady's maids were pulling loose the ties of her corset in her room did the reality hit. Maximilian would eventually make his way up to her. She remained calm in front of her maids, letting them undress her for the most part, but letting them go before it was completely done. Finally, finally alone, she gave herself a moment to take several, slow breaths. Her room was bare in several spots, much of what she owned packed and already moved to the Trevaine castle. Little trinkets here and there were still left behind--it was her room, after all. Turning to her wardrobe, she stared at the new nightgown hanging in it. It had been a gift from her friends, one they'd given to her with incredible glee because they'd known how bright red she'd blush over it. Despite the laughs they'd had, it was clear they'd put real thought into the gift. It was beautiful, and somehow her style though she'd certainly never worn anything like it in her life. It was pure silk, creamy white, and thinner than a sheet. It was ankle length, but that hardly mattered considering the two slits that went so high up the thighs it was practically to the hips. Slipping it on, she walked over to her mirror but couldn't help blushing. The peaks of her nipples were clear given the fragile nature of the fabric, and embarrassed, she slipped on a dressing gown--tying it tightly at her waist. Would she really wear this? It wasn't like this was their first time...but, she realized, it was still special. Three weeks ago she'd been devastated, but she found herself just as nervous as she would have been. All of that didn't take away from the moment now. Restless, she crossed the room to sit at her vanity, slowly pulling the pins from her hair and letting it fall back down around her shoulders. Watching her hair cascade down in the mirror, she then meticulously began removing every small, white blossom of Baby's Breath, creating a small pile on the table. The simple, detailed task allowed her to focus and truly calm down.