Lady Tigeress()- that's too bad that it won't let you sign on, but I guess it happens to everyone sometimes. Yeah, well, up to this point was really setting the scene, I wanted her to be the major character for this one, because she was the only one in War. Me? Make something bad happen? Would I do that? (Tries to contain insane laughter and still look innocent). Thanks for reviewing.
Chapter 11
I'm married. It seems that I'm so irresistible that he rushed me off to marry me the minute he saw me. Not. What actually happen is that he has no other time to get married until sometime in the middle of next April, after the government's deadline. He is even more "happy" about this marriage than I am. I wonder if the government is trying to legalize murder and/or adultery. Hm, I wonder if it would be considered justifiable homicide it I killed him...
I probably should record what happened. At the end of my last entry I said that my secretary told me that my fiancé was waiting. He wasn't. In fact he forced his way into my office about two seconds after I finished writing my last entry. This was not a good first impression, and it went downhill from there.
Before I get into that I'm going to give a description of my "wonderful" husband. He stands around six five to six nine, which is a good six to ten inches taller than me. He has short spiked black hair, that has blue highlights. His eyes are a startling blue. His skin is a mocha color and is tautly stretched across his long lean frame, which is tightly muscled. He has a chiseled face, with a strong chin and high forehead. In short, he is gorgeous, if you like that tall, dark, handsome, and dangerous look, which I do. Unfortunately that's the only thing I like about him.
The minute he stepped through the door he tossed a largish package at me, and told me that the wedding was today, because he didn't have time to deal with it at any other time until mid April of next year. He then said that he'd give me five minutes to change into the outfit in the package before he sent in the "beauty technicians". I opened the package the minute he stepped outside. Inside was the most gorgeous wedding dress I had ever seen. It was a creamy white silk dress, with a "neckline" that was like two half cups that held my breasts and off-the-shoulder flowing gauze bell sleeves. It had an empire waistline and went straight down in the front, hugging my curves, and drifted into a short train. Also inside the large package was a smaller box. In the box was a ruby and diamond necklace, bracelet, tiara, and earrings, as well as a plain diamond ring.
I must give my husband credit where credit is due, as he carried out his threat/promise to send in "beauty technicians" after only five minutes. They fussed, waxed, shaved, primped, curled, cut, styled, and painted until I was worn out. He gave them that shoes that matched the dress, so that I had no reason to stop them from doing everything they wanted to. At the end of those truly hellish two hours I came out looking like the princess I would become in about an hour. My legs were shaved, my eyebrows were waxed. They straightened my hair and then curled it into tight spirals, and added blonde and darker brown highlights to my chocolate colored hair. Why they straightened it just to curl it, I have no idea. They pulled half of it into a messy bun with the tiara sitting on my head, and left the rest tumbling down my back in a cascade of curls. They made my skin an ivory color without blemish with a light pink on my cheeks. They made my nose look regal rather than unturned. Red lipstick made my lips look thick and kissable (their choice of words). Black mascara lengthened my eyelashes and framed my eyes, as well as making my eyes look larger and more noticeable. They put on a pinkish silver eye shadow, with again helped to make my eyes more noticeable.
After they finally finished, I was hustled from my private office to a large black limo, and from there to a spacious old church. Inside was a large crowd of people, including my daddy, my closest friends, and a lot of media people. I was brought to a side room to check my hair, make up, dress, how the jewels sat, and final touch-ups, including the veil. Then I was walked down the aisle by daddy, to where my broodingly handsome husband was waiting with no sign of appreciation for all the hard work that went into making me beautiful on his face or stance. I could tell he was angry, and wanting to be far from where he was from his stance, but his face showed nothing of what he was feeling, it was only a blank, emotionless, impersonal stare.
After a long service we were pronounced man and wife, bound to be together for the rest of our lives. I know that most people are getting married then divorced or separated, but both of us feel that it is wrong to do so. I know this because he had sent a letter about two days before the marriage. He said in it that he might not like the thought of marrying a complete stranger but it would be going against his morals to separate or divorce, unless there was a very good reason. Also that he might have to disappear for a couple of days to a couple of weeks every now and then, among other things. Those other things include that I'm expected to live in his house, that I'm not to have a job, that I will have to make appearances, and get involved with his country. He suggested that I join a few clubs, get involved with a couple of charities. I'm going to hate this princess thing.
It's been three days that I'm married, but it's not very tolerable. Any time we are in the same area as each other there are cutting remarks, or cold silence. We have dinner together, but we argue, and not in a friendly way. He told me that since none of my clothes are suitable that he had his secretary bay a new wardrobe for me. There are parties, and balls, and dances starting tomorrow, honoring our marriage, and we have to attend all of them. He had the newspapers spewing out stories on how we fell in love shortly after being married, so we have to act like we're in love.
I have to go now, he has just walked in. This is Relena Kushrenada signing out.
Chapter 11
I'm married. It seems that I'm so irresistible that he rushed me off to marry me the minute he saw me. Not. What actually happen is that he has no other time to get married until sometime in the middle of next April, after the government's deadline. He is even more "happy" about this marriage than I am. I wonder if the government is trying to legalize murder and/or adultery. Hm, I wonder if it would be considered justifiable homicide it I killed him...
I probably should record what happened. At the end of my last entry I said that my secretary told me that my fiancé was waiting. He wasn't. In fact he forced his way into my office about two seconds after I finished writing my last entry. This was not a good first impression, and it went downhill from there.
Before I get into that I'm going to give a description of my "wonderful" husband. He stands around six five to six nine, which is a good six to ten inches taller than me. He has short spiked black hair, that has blue highlights. His eyes are a startling blue. His skin is a mocha color and is tautly stretched across his long lean frame, which is tightly muscled. He has a chiseled face, with a strong chin and high forehead. In short, he is gorgeous, if you like that tall, dark, handsome, and dangerous look, which I do. Unfortunately that's the only thing I like about him.
The minute he stepped through the door he tossed a largish package at me, and told me that the wedding was today, because he didn't have time to deal with it at any other time until mid April of next year. He then said that he'd give me five minutes to change into the outfit in the package before he sent in the "beauty technicians". I opened the package the minute he stepped outside. Inside was the most gorgeous wedding dress I had ever seen. It was a creamy white silk dress, with a "neckline" that was like two half cups that held my breasts and off-the-shoulder flowing gauze bell sleeves. It had an empire waistline and went straight down in the front, hugging my curves, and drifted into a short train. Also inside the large package was a smaller box. In the box was a ruby and diamond necklace, bracelet, tiara, and earrings, as well as a plain diamond ring.
I must give my husband credit where credit is due, as he carried out his threat/promise to send in "beauty technicians" after only five minutes. They fussed, waxed, shaved, primped, curled, cut, styled, and painted until I was worn out. He gave them that shoes that matched the dress, so that I had no reason to stop them from doing everything they wanted to. At the end of those truly hellish two hours I came out looking like the princess I would become in about an hour. My legs were shaved, my eyebrows were waxed. They straightened my hair and then curled it into tight spirals, and added blonde and darker brown highlights to my chocolate colored hair. Why they straightened it just to curl it, I have no idea. They pulled half of it into a messy bun with the tiara sitting on my head, and left the rest tumbling down my back in a cascade of curls. They made my skin an ivory color without blemish with a light pink on my cheeks. They made my nose look regal rather than unturned. Red lipstick made my lips look thick and kissable (their choice of words). Black mascara lengthened my eyelashes and framed my eyes, as well as making my eyes look larger and more noticeable. They put on a pinkish silver eye shadow, with again helped to make my eyes more noticeable.
After they finally finished, I was hustled from my private office to a large black limo, and from there to a spacious old church. Inside was a large crowd of people, including my daddy, my closest friends, and a lot of media people. I was brought to a side room to check my hair, make up, dress, how the jewels sat, and final touch-ups, including the veil. Then I was walked down the aisle by daddy, to where my broodingly handsome husband was waiting with no sign of appreciation for all the hard work that went into making me beautiful on his face or stance. I could tell he was angry, and wanting to be far from where he was from his stance, but his face showed nothing of what he was feeling, it was only a blank, emotionless, impersonal stare.
After a long service we were pronounced man and wife, bound to be together for the rest of our lives. I know that most people are getting married then divorced or separated, but both of us feel that it is wrong to do so. I know this because he had sent a letter about two days before the marriage. He said in it that he might not like the thought of marrying a complete stranger but it would be going against his morals to separate or divorce, unless there was a very good reason. Also that he might have to disappear for a couple of days to a couple of weeks every now and then, among other things. Those other things include that I'm expected to live in his house, that I'm not to have a job, that I will have to make appearances, and get involved with his country. He suggested that I join a few clubs, get involved with a couple of charities. I'm going to hate this princess thing.
It's been three days that I'm married, but it's not very tolerable. Any time we are in the same area as each other there are cutting remarks, or cold silence. We have dinner together, but we argue, and not in a friendly way. He told me that since none of my clothes are suitable that he had his secretary bay a new wardrobe for me. There are parties, and balls, and dances starting tomorrow, honoring our marriage, and we have to attend all of them. He had the newspapers spewing out stories on how we fell in love shortly after being married, so we have to act like we're in love.
I have to go now, he has just walked in. This is Relena Kushrenada signing out.