Every eye was on the bride as Margaret glided down the aisle, head bent in modest decorum. Soft velvet ensconced her body, a purple robe over her white wedding gown, which accentuated the lissome shape of her queenly form.
Onlookers whispered their collective appreciation of the King’s choice of bride. Snatches of these exchanges fell on her ears, as she walked past them. ‘ ..very pretty..’, ‘…heard she’s quite the docile one…’
Arrogance awaited her in the form of the King at the altar. She looked at him, her blue eyes not revealing the burning hatred she felt for him. Her thoughts flew to her brother, trapped alone in the Tower, held captive. And she was the ransom. Her marriage would seal the deal and secure his release.
As the priest commenced the ceremony, Margaret lifted her head. Her smile concealed the rage as well as the seven-inch blade hidden in her bosom.
Written for Flash! Friday’s Picture prompt given above. Writers must craft a story in 160 words or less based on the prompt.
I am a Write Tribe Pro Blogger– Blogging everyday for a year.
Today is Day 8