The fact is, I’m jealous. Actually, envious is probably a more correct word. I am envious. Of Aoibheann and Maric.
How stupid that? How infantile is that? I never, never in my life have wanted to get married. But Maric asked Aoibheann to marry him. And so I am such a creature of my upbringing, such an idiotic, middle-class twat, that I am jealous.
After the conversation the other night, I flew into a rage. I very nearly missed the Mysthaven warding because of it, and that would have been a shame, since they needed me. I’m proud to say I had at least worked through the worst of my rage by then.
I took an artist, realm-hopped to a seaside place with lovely views, and had him sketch me in various styles of wedding dresses.
These have now been turned in to paintings. And even though I know it is silly, and possibly mean, and probably manipulative, I am going to place these paintings in prominent places where Nathaniel will surely see them.
It’s petty. It’s something one of my little brothers would do. It’s something girls I went to school with would do. It’s not like me.
At least, I hope it’s not like me. Sometimes I’m unsure what I’m becoming. There is this godawful picture in my head of the vain, self-centred, mercurial, vengeful Fae Queen, and I don’t want to be her. If there is such a thing as a People’s Queen, that’s what I want to be, and not just because my (fake) parents instilled socialism into me as all responsible parents would do.
They are all lovely dresses, aren’t they? Not that I’d really wear a braid for my wedding, of course, but Kern, the artist, thought it would look nice with this dress. I’ve made little copies of the paintings to put here, so that I’ll remember doing this thoughtless, ritualism-inspired thing.
I wanted the wedding arch, but Kern placed me in front of the lighthouse for most of these: he said Nathaniel would see the lighthouse as symbolic of his place in my life. I suppose as an amateur student of literature, he will of course assume the lighthouse has significance, but who knows what kind of significance he’ll place on it, given his shipping background.
The sketches took ages, so it was well after dark by the time we’d finished; this is the only one he painted as having been sketched at night, though– probably because of the metallic dress and the gold wings. I do love the gold wings. They first appeared when we thought Faery was doomed, back when the sea monster had captured Faermorn. Ever since then, I’ve thought of them as my spirit wings, even though I glamour others for special occasions.
I think I have just enough time to pop these in to frames and place them around the village while Nathaniel’s in his morning meeting: those things always go on for hours, or so he says.
Does it mean I’m losing my humanity if I say there’s a small part of me that gleefully anticipates his reaction? Even if it’s negative? I wonder if we’ll have a fight. That would be a different thing.
The other thing of course is that I’m compelled to do this because I said I was going to do it. I think if I were human, I’d have gone back on this one. I’d have decided it was unwise and then just not done it. But I can’t do that. I said I was going to do it, so here, I’m doing it.
Is this what Fae Queens do? Is this what I do? I can’t even say “I didn’t mean it.” Because, at least for a few hours, I did.
And then what?
Four Hours Later:
I changed my mind on the placement of the seven paintings. I put them all in Nathaniel’s bedroom. At least that way they won’t be out in the village for others to stare upon. Of course, this may have increased the annoyance factor….
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