100. Bligne

A marriage of convenience. That's all it was, that's all it had to be. No feelings were to be involved. Pure tactic. Pure politic. A way to make the bonds between the two communities more real, more concrete. She wasn't supposed to feel, but to obey a certain ideal of the Chosen.

He was a Chosen as well, but way less effective since he hadn't got the chance to enter the temple of the Old Bridge before it collapsed. He didn't resent however. He was civil, if not friendly. He offered his men and his expertise.

They married at the frontier, before the desert starts to stretch, down the valley. The two parties known the royal family, the bride was much acquainted with the prince and the eldest princess. They offered to organize the marriage in the Antonia chapel, dedicated to the goddess of youth. A bal was organized the night before the wedding.

She was not strong enough to carry the stress of such an event, and as often retreat to let the sunny one take the power. She, even if never admitted, was against the wedding. An engagement before the gods were to prevent the happiness of everyone. She let the hidden slip.

The hidden hold a strong hand on the comscience, never losing grip. She got the calm apart of the group. And begged for salvation. Begged for her sin to be vanished by a solemn promise. By threat, by disguise and blackmailing, she enticed him to pray and preech the great vows. The wrong was done before any of them could protect the curse, and the hidden surrendered when the trick was scelled.

The Greater Good was not an option anymore, and all of them want on their selfish deals, more or less premiditated. The night hit its climax when she eventually emerged. Ran fast in her mind all the actions of her predecessors and she found the One to confess at last all of her feelings. It was of no effects. She then cast the inforgivable spell, for the very first time, and she soon was on her way to the City. They all went sorrowly at the surface, calling their lords and ladies, for it was high time to end the subject.

The wind on her bare skin. The sun slowly warming her body.

She's laying by the river, on a rock, like a lezard. Naked. Offering her body for everybody to see. Not that there's a soul to watch the scene, or else she'd never took her dress off. She opens her eyes before shutting them right away. The sun's beaming too much.

A cloud.

She opens her eyes again. Black. Deep.

The breeze is fresh.

She gets up and starts dressing. A white tank top, white panties, loose white dress, white lace scarf. Eve in the garden of Eden.

The sunlights start pouring again. She walks into the bushes and wonders through the woods, barefeet, her shoes in her hands. Streams of light sparkles through the roof of the tree. Spots of light hit her body, moving gracefully among the rocks and trunks. She accelerates her pace, and eventually runs. Free. Wild.

A wall of light.

She's out of the woods. Out of breath. She puts her shoes on and start walking along the road. She enters her village. The bells are ringing. She missed the mass.