His fingers toyed with the diamond on Rosalie's left hand throughout the car ride and as they made their way to the massive mansion that sprawled out ahead of them. Royce parked the car on the circular driveway, and Rosalie made to exit the car on her own before Royce scoffed.
"Will you slow down and wait for just one moment for me, Rose?"
"No, it's fine. I've got it," and she made for the door handle once more.
"Rose. No." She looked up at her fiancée as his voice shook. He looked down at her with a dazzling smile, but there were nerves in the slight creases beside his eyes. He rested his hand on her thigh. "Please Rose, the rest of the guests are probably already here. We must make a good impression."
Rose nodded firmly, her teeth clenched to keep from making a remark she knew she would regret soon enough. Closing her eyes for a moment, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her pursed lips.
In the meantime, Royce had exited the car and stood outside the passenger window. He opened the door for her, taking her left hand to help her out but did not drop it as she stood beside it. He again fingered the diamonds that littered her left ring finger. He dipped down to place a chaste kiss on her lips- and she let him.
His right hand moved to caress her waist as he stroked the soft velvet there with the back of his hand. Pulling her to him by the small of her back, he brought her in for a more thorough kiss.
"You know, Rose, I sure do love this dress. It matches your eyes perfectly." Royce tilted his head back down, leaning in for another kiss. His lips barely had the time to graze her's before-
"Good lord, Royce, you let her out of the house in that?"
He smirked into Rosalie's lips. Rosalie could feel his teeth flash against her lips right before he pulled away.
"Oh, no, don't stop on my account, Royce. I'd just come out here to see what was takin' so long. I see I have my answer, so I'll be headed back in-"
"Nonsense! It's great to see you, Tom!" Royce enthusiastically embraced the man.
The man, Tom, flashed an appraising crooked grin at Rosalie.
"Well, now, this must be ya' dame. What's her name again?" Tom thumbed his suspenders under his coat as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He looked Rosalie up and down, unashamed in his crude appreciation.
Rosalie's blood suddenly boiled. This Tom was speaking about her as if she wasn't present. She opened her mouth to speak, but found herself cut off once more by Royce.
"This is my beautiful Rosalie." Royce snaked a hand around Rosalie's waist and pulled her into his side. She stumbled slightly in her heels.
"My, my. If she's not the finest little broad I've ever seen." Tom placed his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows as continued to stare.
"Well she would like to thank you for the compliment." Rosalie crossed her arms, defiant. Her brashness made Royce cough, choking on his next words.
"Now, Rosalie, he was just saying hello." Royce rolled his eyes. "This is one of my groomsmen, Tom Wilson. He'll be in town staying with me until the wedding."
"Pleasure," Rosalie nodded to Tom. She arched her eyebrow as she looked back at him, hoping that she could make it equally uncomfortable for him.
No such luck, however, it seemed that he genuinely enjoyed her appraisement. He flashed a sly grin back at her.
"Like what you see, honey?"
Rosalie scrunched her nose in disgust. "Hardly," she mumbled. She felt Royce's grip tighten on her waist, poking with a warning with his fingertips into her ribs. She scoffed.
"Rose, honey, Tom's an old family friend. He's from down in South Carolina. I figured instead of making that drive twice he'd have a splendid time up here in Rochester until the wedding."
Rosalie narrowed her eyes at her fiancée. How was she going to stand three more weeks of this man?
Rosalie must have shown her distain on her face, because Tom suddenly laughed- a sharp barking noise.
"Man, Royce, if John had known how fiery she was maybe he would've come with me. I think I might never leave. Are you sure she's a natural blonde?"
"Yes she is." Rosalie huffed. Tom whistled.
She knew she was expected to behave better than this tonight. She would be meeting several members of her wedding party after all.
Royce seemed to echo her thoughts as he pulled Rosalie ever closer.
"Anyway," he took a visible breath, "why don't we head inside?"
The pair headed inside, Tom following closely beside Royce on his left. Royce and Tom spent the next few minutes talking to each other with mindless chatter, catching up on the many months it had been since the pair had last seen each other. Rosalie, instead of paying attention to their trivial conversation, looked out at all the expensive cars that had been parked in front of the King's New York mansion. She surveyed them all as she passed, not knowing many names, but would've liked to. Perhaps one day she could learn more about cars, without the judgement of the male gaze- she doubted that their marriage would bring Royce home more often.
Royce opened the front door gesturing both Tom and Rosalie inside ahead of him.
Loud jazz swelled from the foyer and sitting areas. Dozens of the richest men in town scattered expensive arm chairs, brandishing brandy in their hands which they carelessly held aloft. Kitchen staff busted around with trays of refreshment- more booze and finger foods. Rosalie stared and reached silently for her fiancées arm to pull him close, whispering in his ear.
"I thought we were in a prohibition?"
Royce rolled his eyes, his fine mustache twitching in obvious bemusement.
"Oh, Rosalie," he scoffed, "it's my birthday, remember? Do you honestly think I wouldn't get what I wanted?"
"Ah! There he is! The man of the evening!" A short, stout man raucously cut in between Rosalie and Royce from behind, swinging his own glass of clear liquid that smelt to Rosalie like some form of rubbing alcohol as it sloshed over the side and barely missed her dress.
"Hey now, careful with that. You almost ruined my girl's lovely dress." Royce's voice deepened with the edge of a genuine threat. Rosalie shivered, reaching for his arm once more. Her arm was instead caught by the boisterous man who had cut in between the couple, thinking drunkenly that she had been reaching for him.
"Hi, sugar, how you doin'?" The man could hardly stand, slurring his words to the point that they were almost intelligible.
Rosalie looked to Royce in alarm, but her fiancée waved it off with a careless flourish.
"My fiancée is doing just fine, thank you for asking, Ralph." Royce left no room for mistake with his firm correction.
"You know this man?" Rosalie hissed as she yanked her arm away from Ralph's grasp.
"Know him? Hun, I'm in your wedding!" He dissolved into a fit of guffaws. He clapped Royce strongly on the shoulder as he leaned into his friend for support. "You done good, friend. She's as pretty as they come. You better watch out…" He trailed off as he swung unsteady on his feet.
"Thank you," Rosalie kept her hands firmly by her sides; her fists firmly clenched to restrain herself from throwing a punch at her fiancée's drunken friend.
"Relax darling," Royce stroked Rosalie's bare arm. "Ralph's harmless."
At this, Royce did however take Ralph's drink from him, sniffing it, before swigging the last of the glass down himself. He scrunched his nose at the sharp burn as it trickled down his throat.
"Ah. As I was saying, Ralph is going to be another one of my groomsmen. We've known each other since finishing school."
This, oddly enough, sent Ralph into more guffaws.
"It's a great party; I'm so glad you finally showed," Ralph cleared his throat before reaching for the empty glass and shouting into the full sitting room for all to hear: "HEY EVERYONE! BIRTHDAY BOY FINALLY MADE IT!"
A chorus of shouts erupted from the crowd. A jazz band that had haphazardly taken up residence by the enormous fireplace started to play a jazzy version of 'Happy Birthday' and the party goer's slurred the lyrics as several more bottles of champagne were popped and distributed around for a wordless toast- all of the attendees much too far gone to make a coherent remark.
Royce himself took a flute of champagne with a wide grin that split his face. Raising a glass in a toast to himself, he thanked his attendees before crashing his lips down to Rosalie's in a very public display.
Rosalie returned the kiss, pouring herself into it. She had not yet taken her glass of champagne and thus used her empty hands to wrap themselves around her fiancée's neck and into his slick hair.
"Happy Birthday, Royce," she murmured. The crowded room cheered with thunderous applause.
Royce furthered the kiss, pressing into Rosalie intimately, holding her by the small of her back. Rosalie, shocked by his fervor, pulled back to look at him. He smiled down at her with a hazy, goofy smile as he was lost in the whistles and cheers before the couple was forgotten as the party continued.
Rosalie smoothed out her dress, taking comfort in the feel of the midnight colored velvet underneath her palms. She cleared her throat and touched at her sleek hair, forgetting for a moment that it was pinned into a tight bun.
"So… Are there any other groomsmen I should meet?" Rosalie's eye's searched Royce's face as she was eager to meet anyone and everyone at the party. Born into a family of socialites, she had always been one to win over any room. She adjusted her deep blue gown so that it framed her collarbone respectably. Royce's eyes followed her hands.
"Well. You've met my cousins at that garden party back in July."
Rosalie furrowed her brow as she couldn't remember such an event.
"I suppose," she began, choosing to dismiss her lapse in memory. "Please remind me their names?"
"Joan and Joyce. Sisters. I believe they're here somewhere; you best become familiar with them- they'll be in your bridal party. How embarrassing would that be if you forgot your own bridesmaids' names?" He laughed, more to himself than to Rosalie. "Then their brother John will be here the week before the wedding. He'll be my best man."
"He's not here tonight?" Rosalie frowned.
"No, no. He's all the way in Georgia. You know, I told him he could stay here just like Tom will be, but he insisted he had a few business propositions he needed to settle before coming to the wedding. He promised to stay after the wedding, but I told him what's the use in that…"
Royce trailed off as he leaned over to deposit his empty champagne flute on a nearby tray. Picking up a new one, he sipped on it before continuing.
"Then there's Rita, Irene, and Lorraine- they'll be in your bridal party too. Girls I… grew up with."
Rosalie felt an odd twist in her gut as she thought about her bridal party being comprised of mostly strangers. How impersonal, she thought, to have someone you had never met be in such a monumental occasion of your life. These faceless girls meant nothing to her, and yet they were supposed to stand beside her at the altar as she promised herself to Royce.
She looked away as her eyes prickled. She didn't want to be seen crying at her future husband's first public function. Distracting herself, she counted just how many people that would be in her bridal party, loving the enormity and grandeur of a spectacle.
Joan, Joyce, Rita, Irene, Lorraine, and Vera… That would make six members of her bridal party. Doing the math again in her head she paused. Tom, Ralph, John…
"But our groomsmen to bridesmaid ratio will be all out of proportion. Six to three; you know that won't look good in photographs…" Rosalie muttered, almost to herself.
"So I'll add three more men," Royce countered, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Rosalie looked up him in visible consternation, opening her mouth to argue before Royce snaked his arm around her waist tightly and pulled her across the room. She spotted his parents in the middle of the crowd.
"Royce, dearest!" His mother shouted over the blasting jazz music. "Happy birthday, my love. Are you having fun at your party dear?" She took a sharp swig of something strong served in a martini glass, she carried on without waiting for Royce's answer. "Oh Rosalie, don't you look like an absolute doll - as always. How are you?" She handed her hand out to Rosalie with the air of old money. Rosalie took it with a polite smile as his mother brought Rosalie in for a quick peck on the cheek. "Such a doll."
"Great, thank you."
"Wonderful, just wonderful," she said, distracted by another glass being set into her outstretched empty hand.
"Royce. Rosalie." Royce's father appeared gruff over his wife's shoulder. He leaned down to kiss his inebriated wife on the cheek. "You'll have to excuse her, she's had far too much already."
"Indeed," Royce laughed. He handed his champagne to his father. "Or you haven't had enough." His eyebrows wiggled with suggestion.
His father narrowed his eyes as he took the flute out of Royce's careless grasp. "I suppose."
A man of few words, he collected his wife as they made their way to their private chambers. Royce watched with amused eyes as his father carried his mother up the stairs. Mr. King had never spoken much to people outside his family, explaining his eagerness to abandon his own party at his earliest convenience; though he was warming up to Rosalie. A lot could be said for her being the picture perfect bride for his son.
One of the kitchen staff made another round of drinks, carrying them around on a silver platter.
"No thank you," Rosalie said.
"Come on, Rose, just a toast?" Royce danced his fingertips along her jawline, before placing a smattering of small kisses there.
"No. Thank you, though."
Royce frowned, his eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.
"I'd like for you to loosen up at my party Rose. Remember it's my birthday."
Rosalie felt a chill dissolve down her spine as Royce placed his tight grip there.
"Anything for you Mr. King?" The servant asked.
"A shot of whiskey if you will," Royce answered, not taking his eyes off Rosalie.
"Yes sir," the servant disappeared, returning moments later with two shot glasses filled with a dark amber liquid. Royce took one, swallowing it in one swift gulp.
"That's very good," Royce said nodding in approvement, "I shall need another one of those."
"Of course sir," the servant said, handing him the other shot of whiskey. Royce drank that one just as fast as the first one.
"Anything else sir?" the servant asked.
"No thank you," Royce said, as he turned to Rosalie with a glassy stare. "Come on Rose, I have a couple more people I would like you to meet."
The rest of the night continued, lacking any form of excitement for Rosalie, though she continued with the motions of socializing with every guest that Royce brought her to. It was without any sort of depth from Rosalie, however, she played the part of the interested bubbling fiancée with grace and poise. She shook sweaty hands, accepted sloppy kisses on the cheek, all to please her future in laws- despite Mr. and Mrs. King having not made another appearance in several hours. If only Rosalie could be so lucky.
It was much the same as any of the many private dinner parties that the couple had attended over the summer. Royce, however, seemed to be having a great time. He talked to all his friends. As the hour grew late, and Rosalie stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.
"Royce," she kept her voice low, "Are you sober enough to take me home? I'm really quite tired." Another yawn crept across her face.
"Of course I am" he said, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist, grabbing onto her hip possessively as they shrunk out of the crowd.