Disclaimer: Maria-sama ga Miteru and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.

It's your wedding day, and you're supposed to be happy. Isn't her wedding day supposed to be the happiest day of every girl's life?

When you were a naive teenager, you used to dream of this day. Suguru, your shining prince, swearing vows of love to you and then sweeping you off into the realm of Happily Ever After.

But your childhood illusions are gone now. They died the day that Suguru told you the truth about himself, although you suspect that the political nature of your engagement would have been enough to dispel them eventually, once you were old enough to understand the implications. It's difficult to love someone who views you, and all of your gender, as little more than furniture.

You wanted to fight this marriage, tried to fight it in your way, but ultimately it did no good, as you knew it would. While it would be a lie to say that the women of the Ogasawara family are powerless, an event of this magnitude was far beyond your influence.

Your power is particularly limited because you do not yet understand how to wield it. You know nothing about the fine art of manipulation; it's what made you such a poor Rosa Chinensis in comparison to your Onee-sama. Oh yes, you do know that you were less capable in that regard than those who came immediately before and after you, but you do not think about that, because it is less than perfection and you must always, always be perfect.

You wish that the ceremony could have been held in the chapel at Lillian, because over the years Lillian became more of a home to you than your parents' house, but a wedding of this level of prestige is much too large. Thankfully, your Lillian "family" is here, even your Onee-sama, who had to cancel a business trip to the States in order to come. She's so busy these days that you rarely see her anymore, though you know she's been doing her best to make time for you in the past few weeks. She's worried about you, and rightly so. She doesn't want to see this happen to you, her beloved younger sister, but she, too, is powerless in the face of the Ogasawara group's power and influence. Instead, she offers her love, compassion, and a kind ear, though Yumi is the only one you confide in these days.

Your relationship with Yumi has changed since your days at Lillian High School. She still makes you laugh with her antics, but she has grown up over the years and acquired a measure of poise and grace. She is confident now as well, no longer the shy girl who worries she's not worthy of being your little sister. To tell the truth, there have been times in the past few weeks where it seemed that she was the older sister, and you the younger. Though you should be ashamed, a part of you secretly rejoices. It's nice being taken care of by her, though you would never admit that.

She is helping you dress today, or rather, using that as a pretext to be by your side. Her own grief over your current situation has been pushed aside; she will be strong for you today. You want to break down and cry on her shoulder, tell her you can't do this, that you aren't strong enough. Beg her to take you away from this. But Ogasawara Sachiko does not beg, and you both cried yourselves out last night, sobbing in each others' arms. Besides, tears would smudge the makeup that she has worked so hard to apply to your face. Perhaps she wants to make you beautiful for her, rather than for appearances' sake, for which a much less time-intensive effort would have sufficed. Or maybe she simply wanted to prolong her chatter about various inanities, which she has kept up all day in an effort to distract you. Though you've always scolded her for that before, you both understand that today is a unique occasion; and so you allow her to indulge herself, knowing that she is doing it for your sake.

When she finally pronounces your makeup complete, you stand up and the two of you walk over to stand in front of the ornate, oval-shaped full-length mirror that stands in a corner of the room. Your gown, a Western-style wedding dress, is a cascade of white, dusted with pearls and baubles. It cost a fortune, of course. Your face looks so vibrant and colorful in contrast to the stark whiteness of your dress and the jet black of your hair, although the makeup must surely contribute to that as well. Its vibrant color distances you even more from the person in the mirror; if it were to truly reflect how you feel in this moment, your face would be drawn and pale, pale as death. Death is a particularly appropriate association in this moment as you view the coming event with the sort of dread one normally associates with a funeral rather than a joyous occasion such as a wedding.

"What a pretty picture you make, Onee-sama!" Yumi exclaims, making yet more minute adjustments to your veil and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in the skirt of your dress. She continues to gush compliments as she does this, but you no longer hear them.

You meet your own eyes in the mirror, so serious and deep though your face holds no expression. What a pretty picture, indeed.

There is a part of you, firmly suppressed and locked away years ago, that wants to wrinkle your dress, muss your hair, tear apart your painstakingly arranged bouquet, anything to destroy this too-perfect image that you know is nothing but a farce.

She's the part of you who never cared about others, never wanted you to be perfect for them, never wanted anything but your own happiness.

She wants Yumi to address you by your name. In fact, she wants more than that, but that's better left unsaid. Suguru may be flawed, but that does not mean it's excusable for you to be flawed as well. Any inappropriate desires or feelings will be suppressed so that you may live your life in a proper, correct manner. You detest Suguru's selfishness, the selfishness which prevents him from being your fairy-tale prince, and will never allow it in yourself.

When Yumi offers to secretly stay with you for your first night as Suguru's wife, to offer moral support, you accept, confident in your control and your ability to fight against that selfishness.

But when she confesses her love to you that night with hushed, fervent words and eyes that see into the depths of your psyche for all that they are blinded by tears, you are too drained, too tired, too grateful to resist the temptation she presents. She presses her lips to yours sweetly, the wetness of her tears spreading from her cheeks to your own, and you cannot speak past the lump in your throat to tell her no, cannot move your limp, powerless arms to push her away. You cannot summon the willpower to think of morals and propriety and other people's opinions, after all the damage the latter two have dealt you today. It is a blessing in disguise, though you are still ashamed and hesitant and uncharacteristically unsure in what, for you, is completely unfamiliar territory. But Yumi coaxes you with gentle words, with unconditional love that you sometimes feel is more than you deserve from her after all the times you've hurt her over the years, and with pleading assurances that nothing this beautiful could possibly be wrong, and that the two of you can make this work with nobody the wiser.

She calls you by name for the first time that night, and it is so intimate coming from her lips with no honorific to soften the familiarity. With her declaration and your acceptance of it, you have become more than sisters, though in truth your relationship has changed little. You have loved each other for years already, been each others' most precious friend and closest family, closer even than those bound to you by blood.

Today, your wedding day, is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. And it is.