"The Lord's new Bride was silent throughout the ceremony, stony faced, eyes blank as the guest whispered about the woman who had stolen Lord Golightly's affections. The Kind complemented her outfit, how the flowers in her hair were so fresh and fragrant and the Wicked whispered and gossiped the fact that they were not quite sure that she was human at all. "She was a fey and had a heart of stone", they said gravely behind their fans ,"she was a forest spirit, spitefully stealing the most eligable lord" whined the younger women, eye makeup smeared from tears.
Lord Golightly smirked lightly at his new bride and clutched at her gloved hands. He caressed her pale, heart-shaped face with the back of one hand, the one that beheld a golden band. The girl shrank at the coldness of it and her husband smiled again, pulling her close for the effect of a happily married couple.
It was only later that the bride made a sound. She was alone, at last. She hated the noise, the chatter, the squawking. where she had come from she had only heard the soft lullaby of the lark, the chuntering of the gathering squirrels and the gurgling of the nearby brook. She grasped at the bed post, feeling a little lost, wanting to feel something familiar. Then she remembered the gloves. she roughly pulled them off, baring her own fingers.
She smiled sadly at her hands and gave a soft, almost choked laugh.
The guests were right.
Though she did not have a heart of stone.
She had hands of wood.
had this idea today, had to jot it down.