Freda has a brief moment of intense disorientation, and then she straightens, looking across to the elderly man in front of her in puzzlement. "Sir," she says after a moment, "who am I?" "Your name is Annabella," says the man, remarkably calmly, "and mine is Belboz. We are to be married tonight." The woman gazes at him, still rather confused. "Why can I not remember anything? And why does everything seem so completely unfamiliar? Surely I should at least be comfortable in my body, but it feels like it is not my own." "No need to concern yourself with such things, my dear Annabella," Belboz says happily. "Now, run off to get ready! I shall be counting the seconds." And suddenly a horde of people is upon her, and Belboz is ducking out of the room, blowing her a kiss. Annabella—what an incredibly girly name, she keeps thinking, though she can't figure why it bothers her so much—is soon wearing a flowing lacy white wedding dress, with a multitude of pale pink flowers decorating the edges and braided into her hair. She wishes for a mirror, but only because she cannot remember what her face looks like. When she and the old man who claims to be her betrothed are standing at the altar together, Annabella is still reeling. Her memory goes back no more than a few hours, and she is about to marry a man many, many years her senior. Belboz notices her hesitation when it is her turn to say "I do"...
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12/29/2013 3:26:10 PM
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