The black dresses Skyla had been adorning soon changed into white. The colour of purity was also the colour of her wedding gown. The flowing attire covered her like a second skin as she checked herself in the mirror with eyes devoid of any happiness.
The white pearls Doran had gifted her were elegantly draped along her slender neck. They felt more like a noose than jewellery, suffocating her.
"You look beautiful, Miss Skyla," Madame Maven gave her makeup the final touches. Her crimson hair had been neatly arranged in a hairstyle that complimented her face and we're decorated with a fancy clip.
She was a bundle of raw nerves. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life and yet all she felt was dread. She was marrying a despicable man, who had already promised her a loveless life.
"We will always be here for you. Don't ever think you are alone," Huria whispered in her friend's ear and adjusted her neckline.
