4

ARTEMISIA

I sighed, then sat on the chair that was in front of the vanity.

I stood again and paced around the room.

I walked to the window and noticed a few cars parked in front of the cathedral building, which was not far from our house.

The cathedral, I was going to be married off today to a total stranger. The place, might I say, I was going to detest for the rest of my life because it was sealing my fate.

I walked back to my chair without paying attention to the new arrival that came in a limo.

I knew all of them were my parent's friends. My mom, especially.

We were part of an aristocratic family. Technically, I was a lady since my dad was an Earl, even though he chose to live elsewhere instead of the estate I had been told was part of his inheritance.

Anyway, I didn't mind where he picked to live since we were doing fine, and I didn't like being called any title.

They had teased me a lot in Lone Oaks High because most of the students believed I was lying and couldn't be part of a well-to-do family, since I didn't act like it.

It wasn't like I cared about what the pupils in Lone Oaks High thought about me.

I enjoyed my space and liked being alone.

I wasn't even a loner, and they never tagged me as one. Neither was I a nerd that stuck my nose into a book. Rather, I moved with the in-crowd but still preferred to be alone.

It still surprised me that Julie and I had hit it off immediately because she was everything I wasn't.

A knock sounded on the door, jarring me out of my thoughts, followed by the twisting of the handle of the doorknob.

Julie's head thrust into the room. A smile brightened her face as she stepped toward me.

“Here you are.”

“Of course, here I am,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

“You don't seem enthusiastic about this.” She stated, coming to stand at my back.

She gripped some pins in my hair and went on to redo the chignon bun I had scattered with my wandering hands.

“Would you be happy if you were me?” I inquired, eyeing her in the mirror.

She shrugged, grinning. Then sat on the bed. “At least I'll be happy a rich man is going to take care of me.”

“No matter how he looks?” I asked. Because to Julie, looks were everything.

She rarely went out with anyone unattractive. I hadn't seen her before.

“Look isn't everything, babe. A man should be able to protect and take care of his family. That is it.” She stood up, grabbed the lacy veil which was on the bed, and pinned it to my hair.

I stared at myself in the mirror as she did the final touch of makeup on my face.

It was just like how I had imagined I would look. Large expressive turquoise blue eyes with flecks of gold, cupid-bow-shaped lips that were coated with pink lipstick. My cheeks and the tip of my nose had bronzer on them, which made them glow and sharper.

I looked like the perfect definition of a blushing bride. Yet, I knew this was anything close to perfection.

The wedding seemed more like a faux to me, or maybe I tried to make it look like a faux marriage, so it would be easier to accept the new life I was going into.

“Come on, Artemis. You have no time to have a second thought about this. Even if you do, there is nothing you can do about this.” Julie said.

I hated that she was right about not being able to do anything. I couldn't even if I had the chance.

It was freaking annoying!

“Let's just get this over with.” Julie beamed, helping me to my feet. She clutched my veil, which was the same length as the train of the white dress.

I glanced around my feet and at my back to ensure I was not stepping on the hem of the dress before walking.

Even though I was going to my doom, I didn't want to break my neck before it happened.

★★★★

My hands trembled, and I gripped the rose bouquet tighter. My heart fluttered, and I let out a breath whilst glancing at the hall.

It was packed, not like the usual kind that happens during the Sunday sermon. This was different.

It was almost as if I was getting married to a prince. Maybe I was because I sighted a woman who might be the groom's mom, since she was sitting on the right side of the hall in the first row-It was mostly reserved for the groom's parents. I have been to a lot of weddings.

She donned a purple sequinned dress and a silver tiara was atop her whitish blonde hair.

Her eyes, a brilliant grey, stayed on mine as if trying to assess if I was worthy to marry her son, whose back was to me.

She wrinkled her nose, glancing away.

Perhaps she was disgusted because not even a smile was formed on her handsome face.

I wonder if her son got her handsomeness. I had only seen a perfectly sculpted back and slim waist in the tailored suit he donned.

His physique impressed me. I believed he worked out often. At least, he didn't look like the pudgy man I had imagined him to be.

Maybe his face would be a lot nicer, too.

“Darling, you will destroy that beautiful bouquet in no time if you continue gripping it that way.”

I snapped out of my thoughts whilst glancing at my father. We were still at the entrance of the cathedral. I didn't realize I was clenching the flower too tight, and I was glad he had halted me from destroying it because it was looking slightly rumpled already.

“Are you alright?”

“I-I am.” I stuttered. Even if I wasn't, he would do nothing about it.

“Let's go.” He said.

I sighed as his hand went to the small of my back, which was covered in nets.

I felt exposed.

It was my mother's fault they dressed me as if I was going to a club party, rather than a wedding.

Although no one had said anything about it. Instead, they all gaze at me appreciatively. I was uncomfortable.

The dress showed too much skin than I would have wanted.

I had wanted to discard it, but I had nothing else to wear except I wanted to show up naked. Like my mother had told me.

“You need to breathe and smile a little. You make this look as if you are going to a funeral rather than your wedding.”

“That is because I am going to my funeral.” I gritted my teeth. “I don't need to smile at a funeral, do I?”

He ignored my question and smiled instead. “At least show a little smile on your pretty face. Even if it's a plastic smile. You look so weird, frowning.”

I shrugged. My eyes latched on my mom's, and she beamed. The smile was a fake one and didn't reach her eyes. But she didn't need to show true happiness because she was good at faking it.

She often faked her smile. I had never seen her genuinely happy before.

“Hey.”

I stared at my dad, then noticed we were in front of the altar already.

I grimaced as I noticed the height difference between me and my groom-to-be. I wasn't close to him, but I could tell he was above 6ft tall.

Compared to him, I could be a dwarf. But I was glad I was taller than most ladies.

The priest nodded, and my groom-to-be swirled.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't do anything.

It wasn't because of his perfect, angular face and prominent jawline. Or his black obsidian eyes that bored into mine. His thin-shaped lips quirked into an amused smile as he assessed me.

It was him!

I could tell he remembered me due to how he was smiling.

But, oh boy, two years looks freaking good on him.

Even though I appreciate his almost perfect features. I guess I feel something for him, too.

Yet, it didn't mean I was happy to marry him.

The smile on his face vanished as soon as it came, a grimace replaced it.

He glared towards the side his mother sat on, then stared skyward. Maybe to ask God why the hell was he stuck with a woman like me.

Whichever it was, I didn't know because I couldn't read his mind.

Yet, he wasn't happy to see me or stand on the altar with me, either.