Morning comes far too soon. The early light of day floods into the suite. It's a bright thing but the shadows seem too dark, and nothing feels okay. Victoria walks through her morning routine as if she's still in a dream. Each action is draining, and even the simplest of motions seem to take much more work than usual.
Finally, she stands in front of the bathroom mirror. There are dark marks under her eyes. The note from her mother has been taped onto the counter, so she can look it over one last time and steel herself for the dreadful future.
Due to previously discussed circumstances…
“Okay,” says Victoria with a deep and haggard sounding breath. She runs her hands through her golden hair, trying to get some of the tangles out. “All right. I can do this. Everyone already thinks I've completely lost my mind, and my parents already hate me. This is…this is something I can do with no problems.”
She picks up the hair tie off the back of the counter. Victoria usually only uses it during her regulated yoga workouts. During the day, her hair must be primped and styled, just like the rest of her.
Appearances are everything, after all, according to the King and Queen of Vertsea. Appearances are everything.
Victoria tugs her hair back, pulling it into a loose fist-full. She wraps the tie around her ponytail. “Appearances are everything when you're a respectable princess. But then, no one thinks I'm respectable anymore, do they?”
She pulls the note off the mirror. Victoria takes a deep breath and reads it one last time.
“Ridiculous,” she mutters darkly. “This entire thing is ridiculous! I love Matt. He's the person I want to be with! And my child…” She wraps an arm around her waist, clutching the small baby bump that's pressing against the folds of her pale green gown. “I love my child, too.”
This is her mother's least favorite dress. There are dark green strips of velvet hanging vertically down the front of the skirt. A strip of lace rises up, wrapping around Victoria's throat. The sleeves are cut off at the shoulder, these neat little things that are perfect for autumn because they are neither too long nor too short.
“If they want to write me off, I see no reasons to hold myself to such high standards. If they want me to leave,” says Victoria, face twisting into a scowl, “then I will leave, and it will be on my terms.”
With that, Victoria crumples up the note and throws it in the trash can. She spins around on her heels, snagging up her luggage. It's only six in the morning. She is exhausted on many levels, but the limo will be here in less than an hour.
She opens up the door, sits her bags in the hallway, and leaves them there. Victoria walks over to her parents’ room and raps on the door. She waits for a few moments, and then she knocks again.
There's still no answer.
“They left early this morning,” says one of the housekeepers. He's a portly man, with hair styled into a crew cut and a pair of dog tags hanging from a silver chain on his neck. “Said I needed to give you this letter.”
He hands Victoria an envelope. She says, “Thank you.”
As soon as the man has vanished into the next room, Victoria uses one long nail to open up the envelope. She pulls out another handwritten note, clearly from her mother.
Your father and I have gone to get breakfast. Our luggage will be taken care of. Simply put yours in the limo when it arrives. The driver will take you to the airport.
I have contacted Sir Harold. He is very excited to meet you. The plane will leave at exactly nine o'clock today. Don't be late. It will arrive in Vertsea early tomorrow morning. Sir Harold has requested that he be allowed to meet you there. I said that was fine. There is no need to go walking. He will be waiting for you and will be able to locate you just fine.
Try to dress nicely. Just because he's all right wedding a whore doesn't mean you must flaunt it at every turn. I expect to hear good things from your first meeting. A discussion has already started up about your wedding. It will be a small affair. We do not want the paparazzi taking more pictures of you than need be. The papers are already bad enough.
Try to behave. Try to be on time. Try not to get sidetracked by the young man working in the front lobby.
Gabriella
Victoria's cheeks burn. She's both upset and angry, with a heavy tracing of embarrassment. Right then and there, standing in the hallway, Victoria rips up the letter and throws it on the floor. She's angry and huffy and even takes a moment to grind her heels into the loose paper.
“I'll show her,” she snarls. “I'll show her!”