Anne

The dinner was an extravagant affair, with a cornucopia of sumptuous dishes laid out before us. From succulent roast meats to delectable seafood delicacies and an array of pastries and sweetmeats, the table was adorned with a feast fit for royalty. Despite the abundance of food, I found myself unable to indulge in many of the offerings, my appetite subdued by the weight of the occasion.

Seated amidst the opulent setting, Elliot's transformation was palpable. No longer the dutiful bodyguard at my side, he exuded an air of confidence and assurance that commanded attention. It was a stark contrast to his usual reserved demeanor, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in witnessing this side of him.

As I quietly savored my meal, Elliot seamlessly navigated conversations with Marilyn's father and fiancé, delving into topics of business and politics with a finesse that belied his true role. His adeptness at engaging those around us provided a welcome distraction, deflecting any potential scrutiny or discomfort that threatened to surface.

After the sumptuous dinner, I felt compelled to raise a toast to the blissful couple. Standing amidst the bustling hall, a delicate wine glass clasped in my hand, I tapped its rim with a knife, the sound resonating through the room and drawing everyone's attention. Gradually, the lively chatter hushed to a gentle murmur as all eyes turned toward me, awaiting my words.

With a serene smile, I began, "Greetings, esteemed guests. For those who may not know me, I am Anne, Marilyn's maid of honor." Pausing briefly to gauge the room's attention, I continued, "Today, as we gather to commemorate the impending union of two souls deeply entwined in love, I am honored to share a few heartfelt words about the radiant bride and the jubilant occasion before us."

Keeping my address concise, I directed my focus to Joseph, standing proudly beside his beloved Marilyn. Their radiant smiles mirrored the love and anticipation evident in their eyes. "Joseph," I addressed him directly, "you are truly fortunate to have Marilyn by your side." As he nodded in agreement, his gaze never wavering from Marilyn's, a pang of envy stirred within me, a reminder of my own past love.

With a bittersweet ache in my heart but genuine happiness for the couple, I continued, "Today, as we gather to celebrate the imminent union of two hearts bound by love, I am filled with gratitude to witness such profound affection." Pausing to share a tender glance with the bride-to-be, her eyes shimmering with emotion, I concluded, "May your journey ahead be adorned with endless love, laughter, and cherished moments. To Joseph and Marilyn, may your love story be a testament to the enduring power of love. Cheers to your future together."

With a flourish, I lifted my goblet anew, prompting a cascade of echoing gestures from the assembled throng, among them Elliot. "To the soon-to-be betrothed," I proclaimed, my voice ringing clear above the murmurs of the crowd, "to the sweet symphony of love, to mirth, and to the promise of ever-after bliss. May your voyage together be adorned with a profusion of joyous moments, resounding laughter, and an unending wellspring of affection. Here's to an eternity of felicity and treasured remembrances. Congratulations, Marilyn and Joseph. May the narrative of your affection echo through the annals of time, an enduring ode to the enduring bond you now forge. Thank you," With a genteel bow, I concluded, eliciting a chorus of approving applause from the gathered company.

As twilight draped its gentle veil over the gathering, joy danced in the air, enveloping all but me. With my third glass of wine cradled in hand, I lingered in the shadows, my gaze drawn inexorably to the youthful pair twirling at the heart of the room. Their every movement bespoke an intimacy so profound, so consuming, that the world around them ceased to exist. Envious tendrils of longing wound their way through my soul as I watched, yearning for the warmth of Andrew's presence beside me.

Oh, how I ache for him still, even amidst the passage of years since he departed. Each whispered word, each shared laughter between the newlyweds, serves only to deepen the chasm of absence within me. Andrew, my love, why did you leave me? The ache of your absence rends me asunder, leaving me adrift in a sea of solitude. Life, bereft of your companionship, feels but a hollow echo of its former self.

Elliot's whereabouts eluded me, but at that moment, his absence mattered little. I recalled glimpsing him engaged in conversation with Lady Bethany and a cluster of other guests earlier in the evening, yet the prospect of joining them held no allure for me. Instead, an insistent desire for solitude beckoned, drawing me to the quiet refuge of the corner where I now stood.

In this moment of solitude amidst a sea of revelry, I find myself questioning the divine design. Why, in His infinite wisdom, did God see fit to pluck my beloved Andrew from my side so prematurely? My heart, heavy with sorrow, pleads for answers that remain elusive in the silent shadows of the night.

"I don't believe you should indulge any further, Princess," a hushed voice pierced the air from behind me. Startled, I spun around to find Elliot looming close, his hands tucked discreetly behind his back, his gaze fixed sternly upon the half-empty glass cradled in my grasp. My heart quickened its pace, caught off guard by his sudden presence.

I attempted to protest, feeling a furrow form between my brows. "I assure you, I haven't imbibed beyond moderation," I retorted, intending to retreat, only to find myself ensnared by the cumbersome folds of my gown. A misstep sent me teetering precariously, poised on the brink of a humiliating fall. Yet, just as gravity began to claim its victory, Elliot sprang into action, his strong arms encircling my waist with lightning speed, halting my descent with a grace that belied his size.

Flushed with embarrassment, I found myself pressed against his sturdy frame, the stark realization of his physical presence dawning upon me in that fleeting moment of closeness. My palms met the solid contours of his chest, while his arm anchored me securely against him.

In a cruel twist of fate, the glass of wine I clutched slipped from my grasp, its scarlet contents cascading forth in a crimson torrent that stained Elliot's attire and splattered upon my own.

"Oh my," a voice interjected, jolting us back to awareness of our compromising position. Hastily, we disentangled ourselves, Elliot lending support to steady my wavering balance. It dawned on me then, that perhaps I had indulged a tad too liberally in the wine.

My gaze drifted from the crimson stain marring Elliot's vest to the source of the interruption. It was Mrs. David, her amused expression betraying her amusement at the scene before her. Heat flooded my cheeks as I met her gaze, knowing full well she would relish recounting this incident over tomorrow's breakfast.

"Apologies for intruding on your moment, you two," Mrs. David tittered, her words only serving to deepen my embarrassment. I couldn't help but wonder what impression our hasty retreat had left upon her.

Though Mrs. David's presence demanded a degree of decorum, Elliot remained steadfast at my side, his hand resting protectively upon my back. It was a silent reassurance, a tangible reminder of his concern for my well-being.

Elliot swiftly regained his composure, his demeanor unflappable as he responded with a soft chuckle, "Rest assured, Mrs. David, your arrival was nothing but a pleasant surprise." His words, delivered with effortless grace, seemed to soothe the tension lingering in the air.

Mrs. David chuckled in response, her laughter dancing on the edges of the room. "Ah, young love," she remarked fondly before turning her attention back to me. "I was just seeking you both out. I wanted to introduce you to my nephew, Harold." With a graceful gesture, she motioned towards the figure standing discreetly behind her.

Flushed with embarrassment, I hadn't even noticed the handsome gentleman in Mrs. David's company. His presence caught me off guard, and the intensity of his gaze sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the wine, but his scrutiny felt uncomfortably sharp, leaving me momentarily flustered.

Summoning a strained smile, I inclined my head in acknowledgment as Harold bowed in return, his smirk adding to the disquiet I felt. Despite my unease, I endeavored to maintain composure, masking my discomfort behind a facade of polite civility.

"Harold resides in Elderwood, but he'll soon be returning to Silverhelm for work," Mrs. David informed us, her voice carrying a note of pride as she introduced her nephew.

Elliot, ever the gracious host, stepped forward with genuine warmth, extending his hand in greeting. Harold's gaze reluctantly shifted from me to accept Elliot's gesture, a hint of surprise flickering across his features as their hands met. "I'm Elliot," he offered, his tone friendly and welcoming. Then, his gaze returned to me, his smile softening. "And this is my beloved wife," he continued, his emphasis on 'wife' not lost on me, "Anne," he concluded, drawing closer to stand by my side.

The subtle emphasis on our fake marital bond from Elliot didn't go unnoticed, and a warmth bloomed within me at his fake affectionate gesture. As Harold's eyes lingered on us, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance in Elliot's presence, grateful for his steadfast support in this moment of unexpected scrutiny.

There was an unsettling aura about Harold that left me unsettled, though I struggled to pinpoint exactly what it was. His gaze, shrewd and penetrating, seemed to linger on me with an intensity that set my nerves on edge. The subtle smirk that played upon his lips only added to my unease, hinting at a hidden agenda lurking beneath his charming exterior.

As I grappled with these unsettling impressions, a nagging sense of doubt crept into my mind. Was I merely overanalyzing the situation? Perhaps the wine had clouded my judgment, skewing my perceptions of Harold's demeanor. Yet, despite my attempts to rationalize away my misgivings, an instinctual wariness persisted, warning me to tread cautiously in his presence.

With a sense of relief, Mrs. David whisked Harold away to mingle with other guests, yet even as he departed, his lingering glances cast a shadow over my thoughts. His smile, though seemingly benign, carried an air of calculated charm that left me unsettled.

Elliot's concerned voice pulled me from my reverie, his words a gentle inquiry into my well-being. "Are you feeling quite yourself, Princess Anne? Perhaps it's best if I escort you back to your chambers. You've partaken in more than your fair share of spirits tonight," he suggested, his tone laced with genuine concern.

Surveying the lively scene unfolding before me, with its vibrant array of laughter, song, and dance, I felt a reluctance to retreat into solitude. The evening still held promise, and the thought of missing out on its festivities seemed a dismal prospect. Better to immerse myself in the joyous celebration of the newlyweds than succumb to the melancholy of solitude and longing.

Turning to Elliot with a warm smile, I gently rebuffed his concern. "No, I think I'll linger a while longer," I replied, my voice resolute despite the lingering effects of the wine.

"But you've imbibed quite a bit," he persisted, his worry evident in the furrow of his brow.

Chuckling softly, I reached out to reassure him, my hand coming to rest against his chest. "Just a tad," I admitted with a playful twinkle in my eye, my gaze momentarily flickering to the telltale stains adorning his attire. "I do apologize for your unfortunate mishap," I added, a hint of remorse coloring my tone.

Before Elliot could voice any further objections, I turned away, determined to rejoin the festivities. Though I caught the faint sound of his resigned sigh, I paid it little heed as I disappeared back into the illuminated throng, eager to lose myself once more in the revelry of the evening.

Elliot quietly trailed behind me, bearing a glass of water as a silent gesture of support. Grateful for his steadfast presence, I welcomed the company, finding solace in his unassuming demeanor. While he was never one to engage in a lengthy conversation, his reassuring proximity offered a sense of security that eased the weight of my solitude. In his silent guardianship, I found a refuge from the tumult of my thoughts – a rare comfort amidst the chaos of the evening.

For several moments, we remained ensconced in our secluded alcove, content to observe the festivities unfolding around us. Smiles exchanged, laughter echoing in the air, we watched as others reveled in the merriment of the occasion.

Suddenly, our solitude was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Bethany, her gaze fixed upon Elliot before it did on me. "Are you feeling alright?" she inquired, her voice laced with anything but genuine concern.

Though a faint headache pulsed at my temples, I offered her a reassuring smile. "Absolutely," I affirmed, determined not to let any minor discomfort dampen the festivities.

Lady Bethany idly twirled a strand of her hair around her finger, her gaze drifting towards Elliot, who stood steadfast by my side. "Then why the water?" she queried with a light chuckle, her amusement evident in the playful tilt of her head. "This is a celebration, after all. Perhaps a glass of wine would better suit the occasion," she suggested, motioning to summon a server to fulfill her offer.

Before I could respond, Elliot stepped in, his tone firm yet polite as he interjected on my behalf. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be advisable, Lady Bethany. Anne isn't feeling quite herself tonight. Alcohol may not be the best course of action," he explained, his protective stance unwavering.

A hint of surprise flickered across Lady Bethany's features at Elliot's intervention. "Oh," she murmured, her amusement fading into understanding. "Perhaps it's best for her to retire for the evening and rest," she suggested. Her tone was more dismissive than concerned.

Elliot let out a resigned sigh, his gaze meeting mine in silent understanding. The longer Lady Bethany lingered, the more my head throbbed with an escalating annoyance. There was something about her presence that grated on my nerves, though I couldn't quite place why.

Summoning a strained smile, I acquiesced to Lady Bethany's suggestion. "Perhaps you're right," I conceded, my eyes flickering to Elliot for confirmation. "Shall we bid the festivities adieu, my dear?" I added, the endearment slipping from my lips before I could stop it, much to my own surprise.

A flush tinged Elliot's cheeks at my unexpected term of endearment, a reaction I hadn't anticipated. Regret washed over me in a sudden wave as I realized the implications of my words. It was unlike me to address him with such familiarity, even in jest or pretense. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the wine clouding my judgment, prompting an uncharacteristic slip of the tongue.

Silence hung heavy between us for a moment as Elliot regarded me with an unreadable expression. Then, with a stiff nod, he relented. "Of course," he replied tersely, his demeanor betraying a hint of discomfort at the unexpected turn of events.

Elliot's tentative gesture to guide me away from Lady Bethany was interrupted by her intrusive suggestion, her tone laced with a thinly veiled attempt at flirtation. A surge of indignation welled within me at her audacity, her brazen disregard for the sanctity of marriage, even if ours was merely a facade. "Perhaps you could join us later, once you've seen your lady safely back to our chambers, Lord Elliot?"

Suppressing a scowl, I bristled at her insinuation, resentful of her presumptuousness. Though our union was a charade, her casual flirtation with a married man struck me as distasteful and inappropriate.

Elliot's response, however, offered a flicker of reassurance amidst my mounting irritation. With a glance in my direction, he declined Lady Bethany's invitation with quiet determination. "I would prefer to remain with her," he asserted firmly, his loyalty unwavering even in the face of temptation.

As we departed, bidding Lady Bethany a polite farewell, I couldn't help but feel a perverse sense of satisfaction at the disappointment flickering across her features. Though I knew it was petty, a part of me relished the slight vindication in her crestfallen expression.