Red Roses and Bleeding Hearts

a beautiful woman. Dark hair, bl

e design on the border of her mirror, f

to

ppen any day now and it had. She had prepared herself enough to not shed any tears now. As

e her country, but yesterday when she heard the Italians' forthcoming, she had nothing to say. The mere idea of settlin

he was to marry. It was as if she was just a g

er, but she still felt betrayed. Her heart had sunk at the news. Of all she had at least

t herself taken aback. He hadn't shown himself for months, and even on the rare occa

privacy, informing her of the preparations for her wedding. A woman appraised of arranged marriage by her servant and her father telling her to behave, that was al

man indeed had the assets the man was promised. She felt disgusting at the thought of a stranger

ther. The same mother who had died too soon, unable to b

in of her future, reminiscing the ghostly open eyes of her mother when she had died in a gruesome murder. Even in her lifelessness, she h

of her system. Looking at herself for the la

. Two maids waiting for her outside ushered their m

llway her confidence crumbled, melting at the

. And just like that she stood at the frame of their majestic living room. The conversations in the room immediately ceased. She

" her father's voice p

tion, slightly adjusting her dress to

is left, he gestured for

delightfully. She hated how he mentioned her as his prope

oice reverberated i

s different when someone interrupted your verbal argument, but when

ed again. She already wished for him to be mute, realizing his voice alone could swirl her whole bod

he