Sylvie awoke to the unfamiliar chiming of a grandfather clock. Her eyelids felt heavy. She hadn't recalled falling asleep. Memories of the two large strangers trying to kidnap her flooded her mind. She recalled escaping and almost getting free when something got tangled around her legs.
She quickly sat up. Her head instantly began throbbing. She touched the left side of her temple and felt a small knot growing there. She closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths, which helped the throbbing subside.
Once she was able to manage her pain, she was able to see her whereabouts.
She was sitting in a large four-poster bed inside one of the most luxurious bedrooms she had ever seen. from where she was sitting, everything in the room was expensive. She came to the conclusion that she must be in a castle. She looked down at the fine black and gray satin sheets. She looked further and noticed she wore a thin white cotton nightgown.
She noticed she was also clean. Who had given her a bath and dressed her? She had been unconscious. She felt groggy, and the realization she had absolutely no idea where she was terrified her. All of her life, she had eluded those who had tried to control her, and she had done a wonderful job until now.
Sylvie heard footsteps outside the bed chamber, then she heard mahogany doors with brass handles being unlocked. She pulled the covers up and held them to her chest. The double doors opened. An older man who dressed like a butler entered, on his heels entered a Foe she had thought she had been rid of. Fate it would seem had other plans. It was Madame Bouvier.
She was dressed quite differently, but there was no mistake that it was her. The woman who had made her life a living hell. Was she the one who kidnapped her? She wondered. She would rather end her own life than work in a brothel like her mother.
She had felt so small and disposable in that seedy place an emotion she didn't ever want to feel again. Madame Bouvier walked over to her while the Butler closed the doors behind
them and waited in front of them. When she was standing a few feet away from the bed Bouvier spoke, "No need to be afraid of me. 'Tis not I who have brought you here." She confessed.
Sylvie was relieved and confused. she asked then, "Then who?"
Bouvier fluffed her skirts and sat on the edge of the bed beside Sylvie. "Prince Randolf Canis. Owner and Heir of Canis Island." She furnished.
The name wa sunfasmiliar to Sylvie. She had never heard of him before. "I-I-I don't know him. Wh-what does he want with me?" She stammered out, still in shock.
"He wants you for his bride," Bouvier informed her as if she were telling her about the weather.
"B-but why me? H-He can have anyone on the Island. I am a nobody." She confessed.
"That may be, my dear, but Prince Randolf wants you."
Her words made Sylvie nervous. What was going on? She had never laid eyes on this man or heard of him for that matter and now he had kidnapped her only to propose. It all seemed so surreal. She sat there in silence wondering then she asked her question aloud, "What if I say no to Prince Randolf's proposal?"
Bouvier turned and looked at her then, " If you do not accept the Prince's proposal he will kill everyone on the Island." Sylvie wasn't prepared for those types of consequences. "It is imperative that you understand that whatever Prince Randolf wants, Prince Randolf gets. I know the Islanders weren't the most welcoming lot to you and Luna, but they are people. Some of them good people don't deserve to die because of the actions of Luna and that maniac. Pay the debt and be done with it. Start a new life here. He is a very wealthy, handsome Prince. Marry him. Bear him sons and live happy. You had no prospects anywhere else, and if he sets you free I don't think you would last out there alone for three days."
Bouvier made it all sound so surreal. She made the choice to marry him sound so easy, but she wasn't the one having to marry a Tyrant. She knew she had no choice in this matter. As much as she hated her mother now she couldn't allow her actions to further jeopardize the islanders' lives. As much as she hated to admit it Bouvier was right.
"A-Alright. I will do it. I will wed the Prince." She whispered in defeat.
"Good girl. You are much smarter than I give you credit for."
Sylvie said nothing.
Bouvier looked back at the Butler who was still standing in front of the entrance.
"Whitly, please have the maids enter Sylvie has agreed to His Royal Highnesses Proposal. I will stay here and help her make the proper preparations."
"I will let the Master know as well as send the maids straightway. The wedding will commence in two hours. Be prompt and efficient." He opened the double doors and exited the room. Sylvie heard him locking both of them inside of the room.
Bouvier stood up from the bed and spoke, "Let's get you ready for your wedding..."
TWO HOURS LATER...
Sylvie did not recognize her own reflection that stared back at her in the gold-trimmed cheval vanity mirror. It was a stark contrast in looks and scenery. The last time she had seen herself dressed up in a mirror was the night of the first fires, inside of a brothel. Her nerves had been all over the place then as well. She had also been terrified and felt a feeling of relief when she realized she was free, but that didn't last long.
It would seem the Wolf was not an omen but her savior. When she had the creature by her side, she was well protected. She wished she knew where he was.
"Don't you look the perfect picture." Madame Bouvier said as Sylvie watched her and the maid who held a white hatbox in the mirror.
Bouvier opened the hatbox and retrieved a stunning veil. It sparkled and shimmered in the light. Sylvie was numb and overwhelmed with the beauty of her gown and wealthy surroundings. She was wearing an elegant wedding dress. It was a simple, form-fitting, sweetheart gown, with embellished pearl beading.
A lace shell covered her bare shoulders and arms. Her hands were also gloved. It had taken the full two hours to get her prepared for a wedding she was basically being forced into. She knew her life would never be the same after this. She just didn't know how it would be.
Would this prince be cruel or kind to her? He was, after all, threatening to slaughter his own islanders if she didn't go through with this.
"Sylvie, it's time," Bouvier announced. "I know this may seem frightening to you, but it will all work out in the end," Bouvier reassured her as she smiled at her and turned her away from the mirror. "I know that I was unkind to you in the past as well as that woman you call a mother, but it was just business. This isn't. I want you to think of me as a friend while you are here. I want to make amends."
Sylvie was shocked at the words she was hearing. The great Madame Bouvier was asking a nobody like her for a fresh start. This wasn't like her. She had known this woman all of her life. She did not trust Bouvier as far as she could throw her, but she was in a precarious position and so far Bouvier seemed like an ally.
"Alright." Sylvie agreed, which in turn made Bouvier smile. A look of relief washed over the woman's face.
"Then it's settled. Let's be off. Whitley?" Bouvier addressed the butler. "Your master's bride is ready." She yelled.
Sylvie once more heard him unlocking the doors. Whitly opened them. He surveyed Sylvie and then spoke. "She looks satisfactory. This way."
Sylvie had thought she looked more than satisfactory. She thought she had looked beautiful until the Butler had said that comment. Now she felt unsure of herself as she exited the apartment. Sylvie had assumed by the detailed craftsmanship and expensive house items that she was being held in a castle. Her assumptions were validated as she followed Whitley through the enormous home.
It took all four of them to help her maneuver her dress down the grand staircase. They walked down a long corridor that led to a beautiful courtyard. Inside the Courtyard was a small cobblestone chapel. The outside of the chapel was beautifully decorated with white roses. An evergreen reef hung on the thick wooden door.
Whitly opened the Chapel door. Sylvie saw the chapel was beautifully decorated on the inside as well as filled with people that she didn't know. Her nerves were bubbling over. This was a monumental mistake. It was too late to get out of it.
"Breath, girl," Bouvier told her, feeling her nerves and snapping her out of her own thoughts...