Mist walked with as much grace as she could muster down the red-carpet aisle. Her long veil was hiding her emotions, but she smiled at everyone anyway, just in case they could see her tear-streaked face. She had promised Derek she wouldn’t tell anyone about his affair until after the wedding reception. That was if she didn’t get drunk and accidentally blurt it out. Mist smirked at the thought and considered pretending to be drunk just so she could tell everyone.
He stood at the altar with his back stiff, bearing a painted-on smile. Mist was glad that Derek was at least pretending to be happy.
She arrived at the altar and handed her flowers to Gertrude. The priest began his usual boring speech with the all-too-known “we are gathered here today,” and Mist looked at Derek without an expression. He swallowed. He knew he was doomed as soon as he was married.
“Do you, Immisteria Franzie, take Derek End to be your lawful wedded husband?”
“I do.” She said it with little truth.
“And do you, Derek End, take Immisteria Franzie to be your lawful wedded wife?” Derek hesitated, his palms getting sweaty. Mist raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. There was a moment’s pause before he replied.
“No,” Derek said bluntly. Mist gave him a ‘what are you doing?’ look. He smirked at her, as if she was a drowning fish.
The guests gasped, like they do in movies when someone is publicly rejected.
“Pardon?” said the priest, abashed.
“I said no. I don’t love her,” he said. “I love Emaline,” He looked towards the crowd and spotted Emaline. He grinned and winked at her. She smiled back nervously.
Mist clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug in to her palms. Without any rational thought to hold her back, she swung her clenched fist and punched him square in the face. Blood gushed out of his nose uncontrollably in his cupped hands as he tried to stop the heavy flow.
Mist shook her hand in disbelief, for she did not know, until now, her own strength. She yanked her veil from her head, allowing her long, ginger ringlets to fall out of the bun. She hitched her dress up, kicked her shoes off and stormed back down the aisle. When she got to the end she turned around and yelled, “You’re nothing but a useless bastard and you deserve nothing!”
With renewed tears, Mist slammed the double doors shut and ran.
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“How do you think she’ll react, Darri?” Chris asked her husband, as she ascended the grand oak stairs.
“I told you already Sychristis, dear, she’s sick of all of these false alarms. She wasn’t made to be married,” he replied.
Chris stuck out her chin. She lost focus for a second and almost tripped on the next stair. With the help of Darri, she quickly regained her posture.
The couple arrived at the door of their daughter’s bedroom. She had several rooms to herself, but she didn’t often use this one.
Darri knocked on the door.
“Immisteria, dear, it’s us, your parents. Open up.”
“Humph,” was the reply, but nevertheless, the door swung free. Darrientus and Sychristis entered the small, pastel green room cautiously.
Mist was lying on her stomach on her bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. Her vibrant ginger hair was tangled like a spider’s web and her wings were fanned out. She had stripped back down to her corset and pantyhose so her hourglass figure was clearly visible.
“Immisteria? Darling, I know this is hard for you,” Chris said, gently sitting on the bed. Her daughter slowly turned her head to show her beautiful face stained with red blotches. “But we must keep going on,” her mother continued, “there’s no point crying over it…” she trailed off and put her hand on Mist’s shoulder.
Darri walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains, bringing some light into the room.
“You have no idea how hard it is!” Mist sobbed, shrugging her mothers hand off as she sat up. “I really thought he was the one. But you know what? I’m done! I’ve been cheated on, lied to, run away from, and rejected! I’m through with all this marriage stuff-”
“Sweetie, we understand if you want to stop looking, but you see, it’s your responsibility,” Chris said soothingly, “and besides, you shouldn’t give up. Your father and I had heaps of arranged engagements before we met each other. Come to think of it, I was actually engaged when we eloped…”
“Whatever!” Mist yelled in denial, “You found each other when you were sixteen! I’m eighteen and this wedding dress,” she held up the forgotten dress, “has been worn over seven times! No one wants to marry me!”
As beautiful as she was, it was true. Mist was a pixie duchess. And that means she was cursed, just like all pixies in power. A curse plagued through the family, making it difficult to find love, ruining the royal family’s reputation.
True, Mist’s parents appeared to have been married with ease, but nevertheless, they had struggled to find each other.
Mist looked down at her wedding dress. It hung limply in her arms.
“Immisteria, it isn’t all about you!” Chris said this higher than normal, “Don’t give up yet! We’ve found someone for you. Remember Stanley Emerson the eighth? He’s interested in you!” Towards the end of the sentence, Chris had forgotten about being angry and became excited. Mist curled her lip in disgust.
“That’s disgusting, he’s my cousin!” she groaned. “I’d be married by now if there wasn’t that stupid curse. Ancestors ruin everything!”
“Oh sweetie, do you still believe in that story?” Darri asked.
“Well, I didn’t until my second failure. But it doesn’t matter anyway…” Mist hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her parents her secret, but she knew she had too. Besides, since she told Gertrude at the wedding about the oath, it wouldn’t be long before her parents found out. As good of a friend as she was, Gertrude was not the most trustworthy of people, and Mist hated to admit it.
“…I’m joining the PMA,” she said confidently. Chris gasped in horror.
“Oh no you’re not! Who knows what trouble lies in the Free World? Humans and pixies don’t mix.”
“That’s too bad, because I made an oath! And there’s nothing you can do about it!” Mist said triumphantly. Chris’s eyes widened and her lips became pursed in horror.
"Well there must be something we can do to change it! We are royalty, so we must have some power!"
"No, mum, I'm joining PMA! I couldn't possibly stand having another failed marriage. You don't know how hard it is for me!"
"And you don't know how dangerous it is down there! Please, sweetheart, for your mother. I've been nothing but supportive of you through this whole situation. Surely I deserve..."
"You don't deserve anything! You haven't supported me, you've laughed at me. I'd rather face what's down there than face the Underworld. Please mum, you must understand." By this stage Mist had softened her voice and tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. Her mother rose from the bed and brushed the creases out of her pink skirt.
“Very well. That’s your decision, and I hope you do well in the PMA,” Chris said with a change of tone, taking Mist by surprise. Darri congratulated his daughter before leaving with Chris.
Mist smiled and wiped tears from her eyes. She was finally going to live a life without her parents trying to direct her. There was just one more stop before she could start living it.
