Chapter 4
Susanna groaned when she heard her mother's voice at the door. Rolling onto her side, the clock on the nightstand said 6:00. In the morning.
"Are you still sleeping?" her mother said in a shrill voice, bustling into the room.
"Not anymore," Susanna grumbled.
"You must get up!" she cried, opening the curtains. "We have a full day ahead of us. You have your hair done at nine, and then your makeup at one after lunch."
"So why do I have to get up now?" Susanna whined.
"Susanna, you have to eat a full breakfast before you get your nails done at seven!" her mother explained. "Now get up and shower, I'll meet you downstairs."
Susanna moaned, but her mother only 'tsk'ed and left the room. Sighing, she rolled off her king-sized bed, and promptly fell on the floor.
"Ow," she said flatly as she tried to disentangle herself from the canopy fabric. Finally free, she walked dazedly to the bathroom. Rubbing her eyes, she stretched and got into the shower.
"Ah! Cold!" she cried when the nearly freezing water hit her skin. Fumbling to turn the faucet, she hit her head on the showerhead, stumbling back. Well, at least she was awake.
After the shower ordeal, Susanna got into some comfy jeans and a shirt and went downstairs.
"Susanna! What are you wearing?" Her mother was sitting at the dining room table, the sun rising through the window.
"Clothes," Susanna replied, plopping into a chair and grabbing a croissant. She noticed her mother eyeballing her disapprovingly.
"Muffer, I'm goin to change into my dreff anywaf," she mumbled through a mouthful of croissant.
"Don't talk with you mouth full."
Susanna swallowed. "I said, I am going to be changing into my dress anyway, what's the point of getting dressed now?"
Her mother only sighed, and they ate breakfast in silence. The bell rang punctually at seven o'clock, and Susanna grabbed one last cup of coffee before her day of torture was to begin. She heard her mother's muffled voice telling the manicurist to set up in the parlor, and that Susanna would be there straightaway.
"I expect you behave," her mother said sternly as Susanna left.
"Don't I always?" Susanna said coyly, batting her eyelashes.
And so it began.
"Aren't they done yet?" Susanna moaned an hour and a half later. The manicurist was still only painting her left hand, after an hour of buffing, shining, and smoothing.
"Not much longer," her mother said, who insisted on constantly hovering around. "Make sure that layer is on thick enough," she added to the manicurist.
"Yes," Susanna said, nodding sarcastically to the woman. "God forbid it be too thin."
"Susanna!" her mother cried exasperatedly.
"I'm sorry, but Mother, it's 8:30 and only one hand is finished! How am I supposed to get my hair done at 9:00 if you keep on insisting that the polish isn't on thick enough!" she cried back. Her mother stopped short.
"You know Susanna, you're right. My word, it's half past eight! Hurry up," she said to the manicurist. "We need to be out of the house in fifteen minutes."
The poor manicurist nodded and began to hastily paint Susanna's nails, her brow furrowed in concentration. The nails were done and quickly dried by ten to nine, at which Susanna was hurried out of the house and into the car, heading toward the castle.
"Susanna, please promise me you will dance with someone tonight? It's just terrible when you stand there alone, sulking," her mother said to her.
Susanna didn't answer, but instead slumped against the leather seat, running a hand through her hair. The car pulled up the castle, twinkling in the morning sun.
"Susanna!" Alberta was waiting for them outside, and she hurried toward them with a smile on her face. "Come, come, the other girls are so excited!"
Susanna was whisked into the castle, happily departed from her mother, and pushed into one of the largest bathrooms she had ever seen.
Five other girls sat in barber-style chairs, chattering merrily. Six men wearing pleather pants and shiny tops were fluttering around, plugging in blow dryers and curling irons.
"Susanna, what happened to your head?" Alberta asked worriedly. Frowning, Susanna looked into the mirror and saw a lovely purple bruise starting to form on her forehead. Damn showerheads, she thought to herself.
"It's a long story… it won't be a problem, will it?" she asked.
"Of course not," Alberta said. "They'll cover it right up."
Susanna nodded and sat in one of the chairs, examining the bruise in the lighted mirror before her. Suddenly her chair was swung around and she found herself face to face with a very energized man.
"We will make you be-a-u-tiful," he said. She gave a shaky smile and he swung her back around to face the mirror.
She attempted making conversation with the other girls, but at the slightest move or inclination of their heads, the hairdressers would have a fit. So they all kept still and looked ahead.
Nearly two hours later, Susanna was bored out of her mind and in ravaging hunger.
"Perfect!" the men finally exclaimed, leaping back and taking the bibs off the girls. Susanna smiled; her brown locks were twisted and curled, looking both elegant and simple.
"Wonderful!" Alberta cried, her own hair swept up into a fabulous up-do. "There's lunch in the parlor, and then makeup at one o'clock," she reminded them.
"Thank goodness we got out of there alive," one girl whose name was Tess said.
"I know!" another one named Rose cried. "I started to fall asleep, but my hairdresser went crazy when my head moved!"
They all laughed, making their way to the parlor. A fantastic buffet was waiting for them, and Susanna dug right in.
"So, Susanna," one named Laura started, "no husband yet, I suppose?"
Susanna laughed, her mouth full of pasta. She swallowed. "No, definitely not."
"Well, I've been married for three years," Laura continued, as if it was some sort of accomplishment.
"Congratulations," Susanna said, hoping Laura couldn't detect sarcasm.
She couldn't. "Well, thank you. I also notice you've adopted an American accent."
Susanna couldn't think of anything to say, so she nodded, ripping into some bread.
"How terrible," Laura said. "My mother would just die if I had an American accent."
The other girls nodded in agreement. Susanna rolled her eyes inconspicuously. She ate quickly and heartily, while the other girls gossiped, every so often eyeing Susanna reproachfully.
"Makeup, ladies!" a servant called in. Susanna said goodbye to the lovely buffet, and then followed the other girls back into the bathroom.
Makeup didn't take half as long, but Susanna still took longer than any of the other girls because she spent ten minutes interrogating the makeup artist about the cleanliness of the mascara wand. She was a bit germophobic.
"The wedding will commence in one hour," one of the many wedding planners told them as he led them to what he called the 'preparatory room'. "Be dressed and downstairs in forty-five minutes."
The other girls started to excitedly put their dresses on, but Susanna went to the window and peeked out. The large grassy area below was a flurry of movement, people going every which way.
A long night was ahead of her.
"How do I look?"
Ryan and his cousin Bartholomew were helping Roberto get ready. He was dressed in a freshly pressed, smart-looking classic tuxedo, diamond cufflinks sparkling at the ends of his sleeves.
"Excellent," Bartholomew said. He also was dressed and ready to go. Ryan, however, had his bowtie untied and his shirt still unbuttoned. The wedding was in an hour, and the men had just begun to get ready.
"Now, remember, don't trip," Bartholomew told Roberto, who laughed at the apparent inside joke. Ryan scowled.
"I'm going to go check on Mother," he announced. They nodded and he escaped the room, pausing to breathe the air in the hallway. He turned on his heel and began to walk toward his mother's room.
He was attempting to tie his stubborn bowtie when he ran headlong into someone.
"Ow!"
It was Susanna Bennet. She was dressed in an exquisite lilac-colored gown, and Ryan was almost struck speechless.
Almost.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" he grumbled.
"Me? It takes two, my friend," she replied curtly, rubbing her forehead.
"What happened to you?" he asked, not at all sympathetically, noticing a bruise on her forehead. She grunted.
"It's a long story."
There was an odd silence, before they both made to go, resulting in only bumping into each other once again.
"I'm going this way," she pointed down the hall.
"Well, I'm going that way," he replied, pointing the other way.
Without another word, they sidestepped each other and continued on their way. Ryan barely had time to roll his eyes when his mother appeared before him.
"Ryan! Why aren't you ready?" she scolded him. She was dressed in full regal gear, from crown-adorned head to gold-tipped shoe.
He only sighed while she reached up and quickly tied is sloppy bowtie.
"Be downstairs in ten minutes," she said warningly, giving him a stern look before going downstairs herself, surrounded by her ever-present bodyguards.
He turned just in time to see Susanna turn a corner into another hallway. Not wanting to ponder the marvel that was women, he went downstairs to take his place.
Susanna had been sent to go check on Alberta, who had supposedly sent all her assistants away for no apparent reason. She had unwillingly bumped into the prince as she was trying to get something off her shoe. Annoyed, yet strangely… not annoyed, she turned the corner and went into Alberta's room.
"Alberta?" she said softly, knocking lightly on the door.
"Yes?" a tearful voice came.
"It's Susanna," she said, letting herself in. Alberta was sitting on the window seat, her resplendent white gown surrounding her like a halo. She was breathing raggedly, and her face was tear-stained.
"Alberta, what's wrong?" Susanna said, crossing the room to sit next to her.
"Oh, Susanna, I didn't mean to do this now."
"Do what?"
"I don't think I can go through with this."
Susanna was shocked. She had expected 'the tents really weren't big enough' or 'there isn't enough salmon'. Not this. She thought quickly.
"Listen, everyone gets cold feet. It's normal."
Alberta shook her head. "Not like this. Susanna… he's a prince. He'll have all sorts of responsibilities that I never realized before."
"He'll still make time for you," she tried to console her.
"It's not just that. I know that I would become nothing more than a figurehead if I married him. I didn't spend all those years in Paris for nothing, Susanna! I want to do something with my life, not just sit back and make heirs." She began to sob again. Susanna placed a tentative arm around her.
"Alberta, Roberto would never let that happen to you. He would never let you become just some obscure princess in the background." Alberta began to cry harder, and Susanna felt genuinely sorry for her. She tried to think of something swiftly. "Think of this. You're marry Roberto. Roberto the man, not Roberto the prince. You're not marrying the crown, or Telera, or the queen, or even this castle. You are marrying Roberto. You love Roberto, for who he is, not what he is. Sure, there are going to be times when it's hard, but what else can you expect?" She paused; it seemed to be working, which freaked her out a little. "My point is, Roberto the man, is waiting for you downstairs, waiting to spend the rest of his life with you. Don't you want to go down and meet him?"
Alberta had stopped crying, enraptured by Susanna's speech. Susanna faltered, feeling stupid and uncomfortable. Suddenly, the bride-to-be reached over and hugged Susanna tightly.
"Oh, thank you Susanna! You're completely right, I was being foolish," Alberta said. Susanna smiled in relief and stood up.
"Well, I have to get downstairs. Good luck!" she said, crossing to the door.
"Thank you for everything, Susanna!" Alberta said.
Susanna left the room and took a breath. What had just happened? Had she just given advice? But she was terrible at giving advice… except on fashion. She shook her head in amazement and went downstairs.
The wedding was about to begin. The whole courtyard behind the castle was filled with chattering nobles. Ryan fiddled with his cufflinks, watching Bartholomew give Roberto some last-minute comfort.
"Ready for some vows?" Susanna suddenly popped up in between him and Roberto and Bartholomew. She smiled at him, fluttering some flowers in his face. He scowled, something he was doing a lot of these days.
"Not ours, I desperately hope," he said.
"You mean… you're mother didn't tell you?" she said, faking a sob. "I thought we were the ones getting married!" she exclaimed in a silly high-pitched voice, placing a hand to her forehead.
"You're really not that funny," he said to her, although he did feel like laughing.
"Other people think so," she replied, gesturing to the other girls who were laughing. He rolled his eyes, but she only smiled.
She was beautiful, if it weren't for the sarcastic smile that almost always adorned her face. She looked stunning in the bridesmaid gown, but he snapped himself out of it when he heard the music beginning.
"Here's our cue," she whispered to him, putting her arm through his. They took their place behind Bartholomew and the maid of honor. The archway that they were to walk through was garlanded with lilies, with a white satin path leading to the altar. They were practically pushed by the now-maniacal wedding planner to the pathway, walking in time with the music. Ryan nodded and smiled politely and the arrayed nobles, and nudged Susanna when he noticed she was hardly doing the same thing. She grunted, but plastered a fake smile on her face.
They reached the altar, parting ways. Ryan took his place beside Bartholomew, and Susanna took hers.
Once all the bridesmaids and groomsmen had reached their places, Alberta appeared as a vision of white, walking with her father.
But that was the last thing that Susanna remembered. She began to fiddle with her flowers as soon as the priest began to speak. About a half hour later, she looked across and saw Ryan fiddling with his cufflink. She smiled a little, and recommenced her flower games.
Suddenly, she heard a small 'ping!' and saw Ryan's gold cufflink rolling toward her. No one else seemed to notice, but Ryan was watching it with horror as it rolled across the altar. Susanna caught it underneath her shoe, and he smiled a bit. She smiled back, and just then the music took up again, and the ceremony was finally over.
"A superb ceremony. Your daughter is so lovely, Duchess Bennet," one haughty noble was saying to Susanna's mother. Susanna was having a difficult time restraining herself from eating her salmon all at once, and so completely missed the compliment.
The nobles around her made small talk, Susanna not joining in. She answered a few questions about New York, but mostly focused on what everyone was wearing.
Vivian had been right; it seemed to be the prime fashion event of the season. A dazzling array of designer gowns and chic tuxedos was before her, and she tried to take as many mental notes as she could.
People began to move outside as the orchestra started up. The summer night was cool, with a slight breeze. The bride and groom, silly grins constantly on their faces, waltzed to the first song, blissfully ignorant of the people around them. The crowd clapped as the song ended, and the music changed to an upbeat jazz. The bride and groom called on the bridal party to dance with them, and Susanna reluctantly stepped forward. The rest broke off into pairs, leaving Susanna with none other than the prince.
"Just because we don't like each other doesn't mean we have to make fools of ourselves," Ryan said as he came toward her. She rolled her eyes, but took his hand and they began to dance. Susanna actually felt quite comfortable, and eased herself into it.
"When do you return to New York?" he asked as he spun her around.
"The day after tomorrow," she answered. "Why?"
He shrugged. "Just wondering."
"This is about as much as I can take at one time," she said.
He smiled. "Really?"
She gave an exasperated noise. "Yes. My mother will drive me mad if I stay any longer."
"She's not that bad," he said, not even believing himself.
She laughed. "Then you can pay for my therapy."
He finally laughed.
"Ha! See! I am funny!" she said triumphantly.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said.
"Oh no you don't, you totally laughed!" she said with a smile.
He gave up, tipping her as the song ended. There was an awkward pause as they breathed, their mouths barely two inches apart. Then he swung her back up and let her go.
"If I don't see you before you leave, have a safe flight," he said, suddenly becoming business-like.
She nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, saluting him. He only gave her a look as he walked away, leaving her both confused and victorious.