Chapter 7 You Are Mine, Adelaide

"It's time, miss," says one of the maids, entering Adelaide's room. The young girl nods with a heavy knot in her stomach. She is still in disbelief. The woman in the mirror seems like someone else, certainly not herself. She looks beautiful and radiant this morning. Mercedes opens the drawer and takes out a perfume bottle to apply to her neck and wrist. The fragrance was her late mother Amaranta's, and no one has a perfume with the same scent because it was custom-made by a native from their village just for her. Mercedes cherished the perfume bottles like treasure after her mother passed away and gave them to Adelaide when she turned fifteen. The young girl closes her eyes and inhales that scent that reminds her so much of her mother, whom she never knew because she died the day she was born. It's as if her mother is with her now, and that gives her the courage for what lies ahead. She looks at herself one last time in the mirror while turning around to admire her dress. It's so exquisite, fluffy, and shiny, as if it had been taken from a fairy tale. She wears a delicate silver crown with gemstones and a long veil on her head, and around her neck, her greatest treasure, the locket with her mother's portrait. "We must go," Mercedes indicates. Adelaide nods, and both of them leave for the corridors to head to the chapel where the ceremony will take place. Egil waits patiently at the entrance of the small chapel on the hacienda grounds. The few attendees are businessmen and some of his company's partners. He never intended to have a grand celebration, but now that Nadia has run off with a nobody, he realizes it was the best decision he could have made, or he'd end up the laughingstock of everyone he knows. Thinking of Nadia once again stirs up anger within his chest, especially when he sees Adelaide slowly walking to her position. He wants to grab her by the neck and shatter her in front of everyone, just like his brother, who accompanies her today. The rage he feels is so immense that his only desire is to ruin the Valencias and anyone associated with that family. His heart starts racing, and his hands sweat with contained anger, but he must remain composed. He can't lose his temper now; he must be strong and show confidence. The time to settle scores will come, and his victory is already guaranteed in his own eyes. Adelaide reaches her position with a delicate veil covering her face, but that doesn't hide her beauty, as confirmed by the profound silence among the attendees as they see her. Both of them lock eyes for a few seconds and shiver with an odd sensation when they hold hands, but, of course, neither dares to admit such a thing to the other. To Egil, Adelaide is nothing more than the primary target of his revenge, and to her, Egil is her executioner. They take a few steps until they reach the altar, where the priest begins the ceremony, which lasts only a few minutes, and they are finally declared husband and wife. "You are mine, Adelaide," Egil whispers in her ear as he approaches to give her a brief kiss on her pink lips to seal their union. A phrase that sends shivers down her spine because she knows the implied meaning of his words. However, Adelaide tries to remain composed in front of all the guests who come to greet the great Egil Arrabal. Even with their hands intertwined, Adelaide lets herself be led by him into the main hall, where a beautiful and elegant reception awaits them. Adelaide's eyes start to well up at the sight. She never attended any event of this kind, and every little detail leaves her excited and amazed. In the middle of the room, beneath an enormous crystal chandelier, there's a large dance floor decorated with beautiful flowers. On the sides, there are tables adorned with more flowers, cheese, fresh fruits, and drinks. To the left, there's a gigantic rectangular table with a white tablecloth embroidered with golden threads, twenty-four chairs surrounding it, and at the head, the seat of the family's patriarch. Egil glances at her askance and isn't surprised by her reaction to what she sees. Everyone knows she lived in exile in her own home, so nobody, except her family, knew her until now. Egil releases her hand and calls Vitor, an older gentleman, elegantly dressed. He is in a group of men his age, chatting. "Sir," the elderly man nods to him but looks at Adelaide indifferently. "Make sure Adelaide gets to her room and doesn't leave until I order otherwise. She's forbidden to have anyone, apart from her nanny, approach her in the meantime." Adelaide stares at him in astonishment. How can he send her to her room? Isn't she going to stay by his side at her own wedding celebration? Everyone turns to look at her when he speaks those words, and some even let out small mocking laughs. Before she can express her disagreement with her husband's decision, the arrival of a woman catches her attention, and everyone else's. Petra, dressed in a beautiful and elegant red dress with heavy makeup, approaches them and takes Egil's arm as if she were his new wife now, the lady of Arrabal. Who is she? Why is she behaving that way in front of everyone, and why does Egil allow it? Adelaide's eyes sting at such a sight. She wants to cry so badly but forces herself not to do so to avoid appearing ridiculous. Petra looks her up and down with pure arrogance, dripping with venom, boasting her superiority and subtly declaring war on her. "Did I make you feel embarrassed?" Adelaide looked at Egil with red eyes, as if tears were about to fall." At no point does Egil give her the reason for that order; he simply walks away with that woman clinging to his arm, speaking conspiratorially with her, leaving Adelaide alone in the middle of the hall in the presence of that man. She has never felt so humiliated. She's being kicked out of her own wedding, and her now-husband prefers the company of another woman at the celebration.