A Royal Reception

“Anya?”

Anya had drifted off shortly after she sat down at the reception. She didn’t realize when the best man had sat down in front of her. “My apologies, Solomon,” she said, “I must have drifted away whilst in thought.”

“I see that…, are you doing fine?” Solomon asked.

“I’m doing well. It is not every day you see your l-,” She hesitated, “your best friend married off. Emotions are simply high today, that's all.”

Solomon nodded and gave her a kind smile with gentle eyes, “Well if that's the case, I am here if you would like to talk or anything of that nature.”

“Thank you, that is very kind of you,” Anya said before taking a glance at the bride. Locked in her trance the table fell silent for a moment, both members gazing at one another, but not each other.

Solomon seemed to fiddle with his watch. “Did you not come accompanied by another? Surely a noblewoman such as yourself can find a gentleman to bring? Can she not?”

Snapping out of her trance, “No…I’m afraid the only person I wanted to bring here was already in attendance.” Anya did not realize that a gentle blush fell upon her cheeks.

“Your plus one was already in attendance?” Solomon seemed to perk up at the comment.

Anya brought her attention back to the table where she saw Solomon smiling. He seems to have fixed his collar since she last looked at him. Why would he do that?

“May I ask who that plus one was?” he smiled.

“I don’t believe it matters now,” she said, averting her eyes to the side. When she looked back she saw the groom whispering something in Solomon’s ear. Her eyes pierced the groom like daggers.

“Will you excuse me briefly?” Solomon said before standing up from the table and walking off with the groom.

Anya had no clue what they were talking about, nor did she really care. She decided to take this time to think. To reflect. She thought back to the events that had just transpired before the reception. How she walked down the aisle. How she held a smile out on display for all the people she passed to view. How all the eyes poked and prodded at her skin. How despite the grace she displayed for the voyeurs in the audience, her thoughts were racing. It's over. I’ve missed my chances. This is how it’ll remain. She’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about it. Her mind lingered on how she stood there. How she stood to the side of her love. How she was not the one in front of her love. How she was the bridesmaid. How she was not the one betrothed to the bride. How she watched her love be married to another. How she smiled at the ignorant bride. The one who stabbed her in the back.

“Come on already, ask her to dance or something!” She overheard a whisper-like shout with no context.

“Hey Anya,” Solomon returned to the table with two drinks in hand. “Would you like a drink?” He holds one out with a shy smile.

“Oh, thank you, Solomon.” She took the drink in an attempt to be kind. She even pretended to take a sip, but shortly afterward she set the drink down. “I think I need to take a step outside.” She stood up, thanked Solomon for the drink, then excused herself. Walking towards the door she was met with a voice that was dear to her heart.

“Anya? Where are you going? The party has just begun, entrees haven’t even been served yet.” A soft and kind voice. A caring one that would never intentionally hurt another. The voice of the bride.

“I’m just going outside to get a quick breather. I will return soon, you need not worry. I could never miss your special day.” Heart in throat, Anya smiled. The kind eyes of the bride burned Anya’s skin. “I’ll be back before you know it.” The sharp smile the bride flashed Anya slit Anya’s throat. Holding back her emotions she turns and heads outside.