"Mariette! Come here, mon cher!" a woman cried down the hall. Mariette sighed, rolled her eyes and sauntered toward the voice. When she reached the room and looked in, she saw an older blonde woman, in her mid-forties half reclining on an antique bench. Mariette crossed her arms over her chest and glared into the room.
"What?" she finally said after a moments' pause.
" My dear, our friends wish to say hello to you." the older woman said, trying to ease the tension in the room.
Mariette had not noticed the other people. She was too busy wondering what her mother had wanted from her and how to get out. Her eyes twitched to the right, seeing a rather tall man with neatly maintained blonde hair. Oh, God. Not again… she thought to herself. It didn't work before. Does she really think it will work now? But, Mariette did not let her thoughts distract her for too long. She meandered towards the man, smiling.
"Bonjour." the man said, giving a slight bow of his head to which Mariette raised an eyebrow. She withheld the urge to roll her eyes, choosing instead to give a playful giggle.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle!" another voice chimed in. Mariette was a bit started and taken aback trying to find the voice. She then found its source-a petite and delicate woman with long, silky red curls. She had the deepest blue eyes Mariette had ever seen in her life. She couldn't help but stare.
"Excuse moi," the petite angel purred giving a curtsey, "but, your mama is correct. My husband and I…" at the word 'husband' Mariette's mind went blank. She became exceedingly confused. So… Mama isn't trying to force me to marry? Then what is…. she realized her mind had wandered and she hadn't heard a word that woman before her had said. She did know, however, that the couple were beaming at her. Her mouth was slightly agape, to which the couple looked at each other.
"We can see this will be a hard decision to make. We shall await for a letter from you and hope for the best. Au revoir!" the gentleman said, scooping his wife into his arm and guiding her outside. Mariette's mother politely asked them to stay to which they politely declined (having 'business in another town' that needed tending).
Mariette sat down on a nearby chair and waited for her mother to return. The chair was highly uncomfortable. There was really no cushion to it, but it was a signifier of the family's status. And, of course, the fools that sold it to them had no idea its worth or value.
"Mon cher…" Mariette's mother said as she re-entered the room. "I know this is a big move to make, but you will adore Paris!"
The girl looked up in shock. "P-Paris? Why am I going to Paris?"
The older woman looked at her daughter with bewilderment, "Weren't you listening? That couple would like to take you with them. And I figured since you have no intentions of getting married you could…"
"ARE YOU MAD?" the girl cried as she stood, ready to storm away.
"Mari, you are almost 20! You should have been married ages ago. This will be a good change for you. They are a good family and will help continue your studies. With luck, you will find a good man with a good heart to share your life (insert 'his money') with.
Mariette swore under her breath. She hated this. She hated her family. She hated her house. She just wanted to leave. And so she did. She turned and ran down the hall back to her bedroom, tossing herself on her bed.
What does that old cow know, anyway? She's not even my real mother. How could she know what's best for me? Just wait until Papa hears about this!
After a few minutes of screaming into her pillow the girl pulled herself up from her bed towards her small vanity stand. There was a giant mirror tilting back slightly which she looked into. She looked nothing like either of her parents. Her skin had an olive complexion while both of her parents were fair-skinned. She had unruly brown hair that took ages to tie up so she usually kept it in a braid, unless she was going out. Her mother's hair, though graying now, used to be like a shower of gold silk while her father's had a copper tinge. How she envied her parents. The final detail was her eyes. Her eyes were a dark, chocolate brown, hinting towards black. Her father's eyes were a pale blue, often looking distant as though he was in a deep trance while her mother's were a gorgeous green (family trait). She hated how she looked nothing like the people who raised her.
Mariette knew she was not their real child. She heard the story a million times about how she was their little 'miracle,' found on their doorstep in the early morning. When she was younger, it was a story that made her feel special. She was lucky and dropped off in the right place. Nevertheless, she resented her real parents for abandoning her. Besides, everyone in town knew her story. She didn't have many friends. Other parents thought she must have been born into a beggar's family and would cloud the minds of the other children.
Mariette leaned into the mirror, looking harder at herself. Her nose. It was small and slightly pointing up at the tip. That was another thing different from her and everyone else in the damn village. Her father's nose was long and tall with a dignified bump at the bridge. Her mother's was long and sloped perfectly to a point. Both parents were born from 'good breeding' and had the features to prove it. But not Mariette.
The brunette crossed her arms over her chest (small breasts. Another difference!) and flopped down on her bed again. No wonder her parents could not understand her. They must be from completely different worlds! Or, she just wanted a reason to be unhappy.
The girl had a lovely childhood. Minus the tutoring lessons, she lived in practical perfection. She never had want for anything, though she could easily complain about how she never got anything. She always had the most elegant clothing, which made her a bit intimidating to the others in town. But how she hated how she looked! Her breasts were too small, her hips were too wide, her arms were too long and her legs were too short. Nothing about her worked! She could never wear the colors she wanted out of fear of either being washed out by them or looking deathly ill.
Paris might be a good change… she thought to herself, her mind suddenly taking a new direction. She decided to lie down and think for a bit, finally calming down. Paris was an interesting place. And, with all the commotion finally dying around about that judge dying and that hideous bell ringer, it may even be a safe place now. Mariette did not know all the details, but she had heard her father and mother talking about it a few months ago. It might even be interesting to find out the whole story from people who actually lived it. Minus the judge, of course. He was dead.
After taking a long, deep breath, Mariette finally opened her door and sulked down the hallway, looking for her mother. She was sitting on the same bench, this time with a book in her hands. Probably the Bible. That was her favorite (if not only) book. Mariette sat on the bench next to her, chewing on the right side of her bottom lip.
"Mama… I… I am really sorry. I was afraid you were going to force me to marry that man and I guess… I just saw red." the young girl sighed, staring down at the floor. Her mother closed the book and wrapped an arm around her baby, cooing that it was ok.
tbc