Imogene had tried to make them understand her situation, yet no one believed her. They even thought she had lost all sanity.
Now she was in the carriage, heading to the great hall to wed Blake Fitzgerald, the monster in human form.
Could her timing get any more worse?
Aside from that, she was utterly uncomfortable because of the tight corset belts. She was afraid they were shifting her organs and might lead to reduced blood flow since she couldn't breathe properly. It seemed as though if she breathed freely, her upper body would explode. She couldn't die this way.
But the wedding dress was still very beautiful to the extent that in spite of Imogene's predicament, she took a few minutes to admire it.
A white fitted bodice, small waist, and full skirt. Even her blonde hair was styled in a voluminous bun with a few curly strands laying outside. Everything was topped with a veil and gloves. She could still remember how stunning she had looked in the mirror. No doubt this Imogene was a beauty of pure and fresh quality, except she was now like a doll with the soul of a Con Artist from the future, operating. Kate Benmurry Butcher.
The carriages stopped in front of a grandiose, awe-inspiring palace that was fairytale-like. Exactly the way it was described in the non-fictional historical book she had read.
The footmen rushed to open the carriage and it was at that moment the French doors burst open, revealing more guards holding a gigantic red rug, which they hurriedly spread from the doors to the carriage.
Imogene smacked the footman's hand away and stepped out of the carriage herself. Something which made her fall, landing face flat on the floor.
Courtlady Alice could be seen clenching her fists at this. It was purely uncultured but there was nothing else she could do since everyone was already waiting for the bride.
When the footmen helped Imogene up, she cackled because what just happened was laughable.
"My lady," Court lady Alice and the maidservants ran to her side to check the wedding dress, to see if it had sustained stains or dirt. Thankfully it had not and they sighed in relief, with their shoulders visibly relaxing. Because having the emperor's bride arrive with a dirt-stained wedding dress would be an insult to him.
"Slow and careful strides, my lady. To have the bride falling is an ill omen," Court lady Alice said quietly.
Imogene rolled her eyes in their sockets as she walked through the red rug. She was yet to secure a second plan of dying since the first failed woefully.
She stepped into the great hall and there, quite a large number of people rose to their feet, as a sign of fidelity.
Instead of taking graceful steps as everyone had expected, Imogene stopped and swung her head around, looking at everyone.
It was truly the 18th century and no joke. Women were dressed in bodices and skirts, men clad in long coats and breeches.
Imogene looked through the crowd, wondering who her parents were. A lot of smiling faces were turning in her direction. Whispers even flew around, talking about how beautiful she looked. And to sum it all up, a classic tone was being played with violins, violas, and cellos.
Not giving any care in the world, she smirked and shook her shoulders to the tone.
It was quite confusing to see the bride do this strange dance when she was supposed to carry on walking. People couldn't hide the perplexed looks on their faces, even had their jaws dropping.
Imogene stopped the act and stared straight ahead for the first time.
There she saw the emperor standing in front.
He was a middle-aged, gray-haired man. Quite handsome if she may add, but he didn't look like someone who was cruel. Even his eyes were contempt free and not the sort of emperor whose icy gaze was hair-raising to people, in the book she had read.
She thought he was too old for Imogene. Still, it was none of her business. She aimed to get on his last nerves until he'd sentence her to death and she'd choose which way to die.
"Heh!" Imogene scoffed, raised her shoulders, and did an awkward walk toward him.
People could barely believe their eyes, because this was unladylike. She carried on walking until someone else showed up and stood next to the old man.
He was younger, in his late twenties or so. With the most beautiful pair of cold blue eyes, Imogene had ever seen. His silver hair was tied in a ponytail so tight that Imogene wondered if his scalp didn't hurt. And his mouth, it was the most hardest and intriguing in the freaking 18th century.
Who is he? She wondered upon sensing how the whole ambiance was tensed at his arrival.
His black jacket was worn open at the front so his embroidered waistcoat could be seen. And his breeches were buttoned just below his knees, displaying his silk-knitted stockings.
His stare, however, made her stomach churn.
Imogene took a rough gulp when the older man neared her side and hooked his arm around hers.
"Don't ruin this for us. That dance was uncalled for," he leaned his head to her ear to whisper this, "We didn't train you to be this disgraceful."
At this, Imogene discerned this man was her father and the younger one in front was the Emperor.
No wonder everything in the atmosphere changed. Even the instrumentalists were putting effort into the music, with trembling hands. Trying to perfect everything.
Imogene stared at people at the high table. Kings and Queens and several other prominent people could be seen. This was a grand wedding, too bad it'd end up in total disaster.
Then she was handed over to the Emperor so the wedding could begin.
The first vows and rings were quietly exchanged under the watchful gaze of everyone. Imogene wondered why everyone was so afraid of this man when she wasn't, even though she had read about how malicious he could be.
"I am hers and she is mine,"
"I am his and he is mine," they chorused toward the ending. Imogene didn't have a problem with this because Court Lady Alice made her memorize these words.
Blake's voice was deep, distinct, and authoritative. He wasn't a man of many words but when he opened his mouth to speak, people obeyed him. Including Kings, Dukes, Earls, Marquises, Viscounts, and Barons.
But there was something Imogene noticed from the way he looked at her, like she was a delicate doll he could make or break. It was clear he didn't like her, which would make it easier for him to kill her off so fast. Perfect!
Imogene was made to sit so the crown could be worn over her head. And she was declared the Empress.
When it was time to show respect to her husband, she started the madness.
By seating on the floor, peeking at her nostrils, and searching for boogers.
She did find some and rubbed them over her wedding dress.
People were bemused by this unhygienic behavior.
"Is that the empress or an impostor?"
"She's gone mad, probably,"
Whispers were flowing at this and Imogene wore a sickly smirk on her face, totally enjoying everything. She avoided everyone's gaze and fixed hers on the Emperor, who was surprisingly calm. But his eyes were stormy with rage and disgust.
"Everyone, this is just the beginning!" Imogene yelled with her hands at the corners of her mouth. And then she tumbled, making the crown slip off her head and ended at the Emperor's feet.
Then, she did several backflips until she was far away from him.
This was injurious to his reputation, people had even forgotten about the wedding and were talking about the unusual Empress.
Imogene did a little dance even though the music had been stopped earlier and the whole place was filled with murmurings and gaspings. She raised her skirt, showing everyone her corset and bits of her flesh. All her hairpins had magically disappeared and her hair was falling over her shoulders and back.
Worse, she blew kisses at all the kings, including the ones with their wives.
"Even whores do not behave like this!" Blake was repulsed, "This behavior is intolerant and you have to stop this instance!" He commanded, but Imogene paid him deaf ears.
Her family was so frightened to the extent they were electrified as if they just saw Medusa and stilled like stones. Even her mother, who couldn't hold it any longer, fainted.
Courtlady Alice wanted the ground to open up and consume her because she was the first person the Emperor would hold responsible.
"Stop this madness, child. You're putting our lives at stake!" Her father shouted, withholding his fear and embarrassment at the same time.
Imogene barked like a dog, meowed like a cat, burped like an Ogre, bleated like a sheep, neighed like a horse, screamed like a banshee, and did the backflips again. Swinging her legs until one of her foot smacked the emperor in his face this time.
And that was it. She had crossed a line.
"Take her away!" The Emperor thundered, with his finger jerked in her face.
"If you're going to kill me, it has to be today," Imogene jutted her chin outward as she stared at him down her nose as if he was a pathetic excuse of a commoner.
"Are you by any chance speaking to me?" He was perplexed for a second.
"Who else would it be if not you, Mr. Emperor?" She sneered at him and then raised the hem of her skirt due to the heat she felt. But it left everyone horrified because it was abominable.
"Now hurry up with the killing. I'd prefer to be shot with a gun."
Collective gasps resounded from the entourage.
And the Emperor blinked unsteadily because he hadn't seen anyone who craved death more than this girl in front of him.
He could tell she did those things to deliberately piss him off. How was it even possible that someone who could barely hold his gaze had changed overnight?
"Don't let me repeat myself," he directed this to the guards.
And they obliged.
Imogene was held like a thief but she had a smug smirk on her face. People thought she wasn't in the right state of mind.
Whilst she on the other hand believed she would be killed that day, so she could return to her body and take revenge on her boss.
And as she was led out of the great hall, she held her head back, cast the emperor a glance, let out a harsh bark of laughter and danced some more.
The Wedding and the coronation of the empress ended up in a disaster.