This was inspired by this… I actually hoped someone else would write it but oh well, maybe someone will??? This is set in an unidentified time period because I’m a lazy person. It’s also not really what I had in mind myself.
Peggy walked slowly across the room. Her mother was at her back and her father stood up front at the end of the aisle.
It felt to her like a means to cage her in, to keep her from running away
The fabric of her dress felt like it was trying to strangle her with it’s high collar, chaste in design. Peggy closed her eyes, swallowed and didn’t let her step falter or her a hitch in her breath show what she was thinking.
Maybe she should have taken the nomads offer to take her with them across the lands.
She banished the thought. Now it was too late.
Now she was going to become a man’s prized possession, living in a golden cage.
She came to a stop beside her husband to be and she took her first look at him.
He was handsome, she supposed, immaculately dressed with dark hair and dark eyes and dark smudges on his hands. Peggy glanced down at them. They were narrow hands and not as perfectly manicured as she knew was common among royalty.
He was a lord, equal in standing with her and royalty was not known to pass their time with things that required them to become dirty when they could order someone else to do the job.
A spark of interest kindled inside of her but she didn’t smile. She’d rather be free. Maybe he would allow her to travel and hone her fighting skills, but probably not.
A thin mustache adorned his upper lip and just looking at it made annoyance rise in her chest. It looked as if an artist had drawn a paintbrush over his face and left that thin, dark line behind.
His eyes, when she looked at them, saw right through her like she was a ghost and even though he tried for a reassuring smile his eyes were blank.
He did not look like the kind of man that wanted to marry but Peggy wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted to marry either so they probably made quite a pair.
She cursed the time she had been born into and that her parents had forced her hand into this marriage, when it became apparent that she did not want to marry.
What a joy this would be, she thought sarcastically. Maybe she should have let her father’s threat come to pass and make her life her own.
Peggy ignored her mother’s happy face and her father’s grim pride and kept her back straight and her head high.
The priest began to speak.