Marianne Vi Britannia Novels & Stories

Oh, the foolish things sentiments made us do. "There's somewhere I have to be, I just uh...came here to be sure of what I saw on the internet," she dabbed the corner of her eyes with the hem of her royal blue, deep V-cut dress. "I'd be back soon to catch up on all the details and I'd most assuredly invite you to dinner sometime soon. It's just so hard to believe Jackson now has someone- " her voice broke as she spoke. Mrs. Jones cleared her throat and gave Maria one last adoring gaze, something about the way she looked made Maria feel warm.

She smiled back at me, though I could tell from her mind that she didn’t exactly want me to call her anything; nor did she wish to be in the same room as me. “Alright.” I whispered, only just managing to hold my smile in place. I glanced over Marianne Scarlette, her silver-coloured hair cascading in waves down the sides of her breasts and her aquamarine eyes unable to stay locked onto me; often darting to the prince and Ezio. She had a slender and yet curved body and stood at about five-foot-two, her sharp pointed nose and high cheek bones perfectly sculpting her features. I found her elegant, and yet rebellious; she didn’t like being told what to do and she certainly didn’t appreciate anyon

She adjusted her chair to be higher so she can see properly the grandfather that she hasn’t seen before, but the image of the man had shocked her. “I never would have expected this. How uncanny the resemblance is. I could say that this is my portrait. Oh! of Kenny Jones’ portrait,” mused Marianne. She looks at the next portrait and it’s her grandfather and a woman. “This must be my grandmother. Hmm… my grandmother has similarities to my mother’s features. I suppose we really are a family.” Marianne read the label and it says ‘Arnold Williams and his wife Marie Antoinette Adams’.

I knew how much he wanted me to be with Ariel, and the last thing I ever wanted was to disappoint him. Manny's father always knew how to put me at ease, he had the personality that could make anyone warm up to him instantly. I looked around the room and locked eyes with Ariel, Her eyes were on fire with anger, I'm sure if looks could kill I could be under the ground by now. "Excuse me everyone, this lovely lady is Marianna, she works at our firm" Mr. Jennings introduced me "What is she doing her?" Ariel hissed

He explained, waiving the empty syringe in front of the woman. Bella hissed once again, as she felt her body slowly become paralyzed. "Ready to talk now?" "To you? No. To your boss? Yes." Bella answers, out of breath. "You know what? You're one to talk." He mocks. "If only you knew what happened to your family after the ambush." The woman's head snapped up, her attention now fully towards Marcus. The man knew of what had happened to her family. The question was how. She didn't even have the same name she had before. Hell, no one knew that Bella Ryan was Isabella Moretti.

Her eyes flick toward me, and for the first time there’s something almost amused in them. “You think I’m joking.” “I hoped you were.” “I’m rarely amusing by accident.” The curtain beside the fitting area opens before the conversation can become anything more. A woman in her late forties emerges carrying several dresses and two tailored suits, followed by an assistant pushing a rail crowded with coats, blouses and skirts. Marianne, presumably. She’s immaculate in black trousers and a cream silk shirt, her blond hair cut into a sleek chin-length bob, her expression warm with the confidence of someone paid to possess excellent taste on behalf of others.

Violet sat down at the dressing table. She hummed a song as she brushed her hair. "Your Majesty?" "Do come in." She said calmly. Violet had her eyes at the mirror and watched as the door creaked open. She saw the maid as she entered the room through the mirror. "Your Majesty, His Majesty has asked him to call you. He is waiting for you at the dining table." The maid said. "Oh, okay. Tell him that I'll be with him shortly." Violet said as she stood up from the chair. She picked up her crown and wore it.

‘Talk to the girl, Maverick, explain everything to her, her destiny is to be your Queen, but she will fight you every step of the way unless you make her understand. He sighed again and ran his fingers through his thick mane of hair, ‘I know Mrs O’Connor, believe me, I know, but she is so young and innocent.’ The elderly woman held up her hand; the skin on it was paper-thin with age, and the blue veins were visible in the sunlight. ‘Stop making excuses, Maverick, you need to claim her before he does.’ She crossed herself superstitiously, not because she was a Catholic; she followed Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, in all things, the woman was her role model, so she was Church of England. Rea

The only good thing left. “Why?” I whispered into the empty room. “Why marry me if you hated me so much?” Because of his grandmother, of course. Catherine Blackwood — the only person who had ever shown me kindness in this house. Her dying wish had been for Adrian to take care of me. He’d agreed out of obligation, not love. I sank onto the edge of the bed, the red dress still clutched in my hands. “I tried so hard,” I said to no one. “I smiled when he ignored me. I stayed silent when people whispered. I let him break me because I thought that was love.”

Anne took a deep breath and said, “Yes, my lady. It’s all everyone is talking about. The kitchen staff are already drafting meals for the royal wedding.” “Royal wedding?!” Lily was utterly shocked. Mirabel looked calm but in reality, her ears were ringing and her blood seemed to have run cold. “Who is this bride?” She managed to ask Anne. “Megan Brighton! Former queen of the Eastern Kingdom. Her marriage to Richardson Jared was dissolved yesterday.” Anne answered. “What a wench! She lost her throne and now she is here for Lady Mirabel’s crown!” Mary yelled. “We do not insult women we do not know, Mary.” Mirabel cautioned her lady.