Rudolph and Isadora, Part 98

The day of the wedding dawned, gray and wet, but no longer dripping rain from the heavy clouds that surrounded the castle. Isadora cracked open her eyelids, rose, and stretched. She had not been awoken by her lady-in-waiting pulling the curtains back from the grand windows that looked down upon the courtyard and from the glass door that led to her balcony, but although the room was still dim, she knew she could not fall back asleep. Today was the day. As her thoughts began to race, she felt the now-familiar butterflies that seemed to constantly rest in the pit of her stomach begin to wake. She tugged on the silk rope by her bed to call the ladies-in-waiting to her room. As she waited for them, she ran her finger down the beautiful white dress she was to wear that afternoon. It was lovelier than anything she had ever worn before, yet she hesitated to put it on. At the last moment, she pushed the dress away and took out a plain dress the color of a summer sky. The ladies-in-waiting entered and began to arrange her hair and set out the wedding dress, but she refused to let them prepare her for the afternoon. As she slipped into the blue dress instead, she looked out the window, determined to have one last morning to herself.