Novels2Search
My Beauty
2. Fed up with the festivities

2. Fed up with the festivities

Fed up with the festivities

The ceremony was long and Rory had to stand up the whole time. She stood next to her Aunt and listened to the old man in a dress drone on. Rory’s tight bun was pulling at her scalp and her dress was starting to itch.

About half way through, Aunt Leah handed her bouquet to Rory which was even worse than the basket of roses she had to hold before. The flowers were heavy and her eyes immediately filled with stinging tears.

Rory was preoccupied with trying to hold the flowers as far away from her face as possible while simultaneously scratching her nose on her shoulder when she caught the stern looks from her three godmothers. The three, dumpy older ladies were sitting in the second row, currently glaring at their young charge.

Rory stopped her sniffing and stood up straight, concentrating on what the old man was saying rather than on her itchy nose.

It didn't last long. The old man was boring. Instead, her attention wandered to the men standing on the other side of the wall of pink and white chiffon that was her aunt.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Standing tall and attentively next to Leah was King Hubert, or perhaps he would be Uncle Hubert now. The king was dressed in purple velvet that was heavily embroidered with blue and gold thread. His shirt had puffed sleeves and a stiff collar. He was dressed just as ostentatiously and puffed up as her Aunt, albeit in a more masculine way. Her gaze lingered on the blue, jeweled necklace that hung around his neck by a thick gold chain.

Movement drew her eye to the boy on the right of the king. Dark haired and fair like his father, Prince Phillip stood almost a head taller than Rory and was almost two years older. Rory had met the boy earlier that morning but was yet to talk to him.

Phillip looked just as fed up with the festivities as Rory felt. The boy was shuffling his feet and tugging at the wad of fabric that was tied around his neck and tucked into the collar of his shirt. He rolled his eyes heavenward as the old man presiding over the ceremony started another long speech.

Rory giggled at the boy’s expression.

Zara, who stood on Rory’s left, placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and dug her nails in. Rory took the hint and muffled her laughter, but not before she caught the eye of the handsome young prince.

----------------------------------------

Thanks for reading. Please check out my Chronicles of Genticus: Invasion of the North. It's mostly complete and updated daily.

If you here because I told you to read this on my other work; welcome! Thanks for checking this out.