"You must be proud of yourself," she jeers at me, closing the door behind her. "But you chose the wrong man, my dear." She gives a fake laugh, hostility coating her words. "I don't know how you embroiled him in this, but make no mistake, he's just using you. You'll be the ugly, unassuming peasant wife raising his kids at home while he's having fun with his whores."
My eyes widen at her words, but she just continues.
"When you see his string of mistresses, every single one prettier, younger"—she looks me up and down—"and skinnier than you, you'll die a little inside." Mother smirks, crossing herarms in front of her. "And I'll have a front seat to the spectacle that will be your unhappiness."
"I don't care." I push my chin up, trying to show some strength, even though her words hit their mark.
"You may not care now, but we'll see. Remember my words. You thought to sabotage your sister, and you'll pay. And there's nothing worse than hope that turns into despair." She doesn't wait for my reply as she exits the room.
"Don't mind her, miss," Lia tries to comfort me.
While I've at times entertained my idealistic side, I am, most of all, a realist. And though I know she said all that to hurt me, I'm not ignorant. Iknowhe'll have mistresses. IknowI don't matter to him.
I can only hope he won't matter to me either.
With one last look in the mirror, I decide I won't let my mother win. If I have to close my heart to everything, then so be it.
But I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.
I'll be happy. Even if it kills me inside.
When we're done, we go downstairs, and I take my place next to Enzo. He hasn't looked at me yet, his attention focused wholly on my father and whatever they're discussing.
But I'm surprised when I feel his hand on top of mine, moving it to intertwine our fingers. I accept the touch, trying to put the conversation with my mother out of my mind.
When the priest arrives, we're led into the courtyard where villagers are boisterously laughing and singing, celebrating the wedding. There's food and drink for everyone.
"Is this…" I ask, amazed at the display.
"I had to force your father's hand somehow. A public announcement was the best way, since he values his image too much," Enzo replies, tugging me closer to him and leading me to the priest.
The religious ceremony is short, and the moment we sayIdo,music starts blasting from the street, the villagers shouting congratulations at us.
"Come." Enzo leads me to an open carriage, helping me up. "We need to give them a show."
The horses neigh, and Enzo takes the reins, leading them forward. We start at a slow trot, and as we move down the street, everyone is outside their house, clapping and shouting words of congratulations, health, and love.
"When did you manage this?" I'm in awe. This isn't something that's spontaneously planned.
"I may have whispered in the ear of the village gossip a while ago. It didn't take long for everyone to follow along. After all, there's free food and wine." He winks at me, and I don't know whether to be scandalized or impressed.
After we take a turn around the village, we're back at the house. My parents are trying their best to entertain the guests with fake smiles, pretending they'd known about this secondary wedding all along. They'd just wanted to marry their eldest before proceeding with the youngest—or so their excuse goes.
We spend some time with the guests. Suddenly, we’re rushed and locked inside a room.
"What…" I look around at the barren room, a single bed with white linens in the center.
"I assume they expect us to consummate the marriage," Enzo says slowly, quirking an eyebrow at me.
"Yeah, no," I put my hand up, "that's not happening, Mister." I take my shoes off, throw them on the floor, and lie on the bed, confused.
The entire thing has been a whirlwind affair, and I haven't even had time to come to grips with what's happening.
I'm married. To him.
I look at him from the corner of my eye. He's propped with his back against the door, watching me intently.
"Why did you do it?" I raise myself up on my elbows.
