The music within the chapel began and the voices of the people within quietened.
Rialle's breathing was getting bad, and she gasped for air with no success.
Her head was pulsing with agitation, but at least now, her father was along with her to share the burden.
He paced behind her, his eyes wide in shock and anger, his hands joined behind his back.
Every now and then he would mumble to himself before shaking his head violently.
Rialle looked back at the massive doors to the chapel that remained closed.
They would be ceremoniously opened right before the bride's grand entrance on the arm of the bride's proud and tearful father.
Just thinking about the moment and how soon it would approach, Rialle's panicking got worse.
She simply could not do it. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air.
Rialle Winterbell had gone all her life not taking things seriously. She did what she loved and roamed the manor as best as she could avoiding the attention of her stepmother, stepsister, and the servants.
As long as they forgot she existed, she could be free and happy.
She was the illegitimate daughter of the wealthiest count in the land. He had taken her in when she was quite young to no one's happiness.
Her hardest moments were after dinner since that was when she dined with the entire family, and they were all made very much aware that she was birthed and now walked the halls of the large manor.
Rialle was used to keeping her head low and fleeing at even the slightest hint of hostility. When she was caught and could not escape, she took the punishments and humiliation meted out to her and went back into hiding. Although not ideal, for years Rialle had accepted her fate. One day, she would marry a tutor she had thought to herself. Or any man rather and would leave the manor for a life of her own. It seemed quite unlikely that that would occur since the suitors who came to her doorstep were chased away by her stepmother or seduced away by her older step-sister Stella Winterbell.
Rialle had borne it all quite well.
But now, it was difficult for her to stand straight. It was difficult for her to breathe properly and think clearly of what her next move would be.
What would she do if her stepmother did not return in time?
She could not walk into the chapel pretending to be her sister and marry the duke.
She simply could not do it.
It would be humiliating for her to be unmasked as someone who had walked in and usurped something that was not hers.
All her life, Rialle Winterbell had felt like she was stealing the affection that rightfully belonged to her stepmother and stepsister simply by existing. Her existence showed that her father had been unfaithful to his wife and embarrassed his daughter and Rialle had always felt like she could not even fight back against her stepfamily as a result.
She had hidden away from the responsibilities and rewards of being the Count's daughter.
She had never taken the privileges of her wealthy life other than the safety of the vast library in their manor and the food she was served at the table each day.
Rialle Winterbell took a deep calming breath.
She did not want to ever seem like the girl who stole what did not rightfully belong to her.
Rialle hated it.
But now, in the situation she was in, it seemed like she would be humiliated before everyone in the city as the girl who had stooped so low as to steal her sister's fiancé.
Rialle Winterbell could not bear it.
--
A few months earlier, Rialle Winterbell had awoken from her bedside.
The sunlight was just entering into her bedroom, and she blinked a few times.
She was well and truly awake as she stepped down from her bed into the beautiful room, she had been given for her to use.
No servants or maids came to wait on Rialle so she went into the washing room to get ready for the day.
A few minutes later, Rialle stood in front of her cupboard, opening its doors to see what she could wear.
Three expensive dresses and five dresses for daily wear hung in her cupboard.
Rialle was grateful for them. She was aware that as the daughter of the wealthiest Count in the land, she was blessed with a better room and dresses than most other young ladies despite being handed the worst to pick from in the large manor.
Rialle could still outdress a good portion of the young ladies in the city with the worst in her father's mansion.
She sighed as she looked through her clothes.
The young beauty was thankful they were all washed and placed in her cupboard for her to wear.
It seemed her stepmother had once again forgotten about her.
That was the most joyous moment for Rialle.
Although the necessities were provided for Rialle, sometimes, her stepmother gave orders to the servants to not provide Rialle with washed clothes.
And on days when her cupboard was bare and empty with no return of her clothes, Rialle stayed in her room, unable to go outside.
She sighed.
That was not the worst she had to deal with, since it was not physically violent and Rialle was grateful for it.
Her hand slipped in, and she picked out a long, dark green dress that she loved.
Rialle smiled as she looked at it.
This was what she would wear today.