The night before the wedding ceremony seemed to be anything but peaceful as Zehra watched a flustered Ayse. Her Madam wandered around in her room. She clutched at her forehead as she then strode to her dresser. Gazing at her reflection, she gives the contents on the table a swipe as they all then tumbled to the floor.
Madam... Zehra strode to her. Ayse's hands shot up as if telling her to stop as she then turned to her. Her lips quivered, her brows held a deep frown, "
You hear me Zehra... I'm getting married to the devil himself"... Zehra's eyes fell as Ayse lets out soft sobs.
Oh madam... she murmurs, flopping to the ground with her, don't cry...
The night fell as Zehra took a hold of a miserable Ayse. Tied by her father's commands, lost by her brother's departing, she now lay on the cold floor of her own estate, weeping alike a prisoner.
Perhaps, that's what she was...
a mere prisoner...
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The city of Istanbul moved with a steady pace as far away from the main Taksim square, near Bosphorus was the beginning of a wedding convention. Approximately. 2500 guests attended as the venue filled.
Most were business partners, employees and "families" being the least. The grand hall was suitable to its name. With its marvelous red carpeted floors and its gigantic interior walls and elaborate paintings. The place shone--as people conversed under the chandelier above.
Further from the crowd stood by, Burak Doğan Yildiz. Sharp as a hawk, as he adjusted the crisp white cuffs of his jet-black attire. He conversed among others. Words short--just enough to keep no enmity. He turned his head; there he saw Ali walking up to him.
The men greeted one another. Ali had a small smile on his lip, "Well... it's been good so far, what do you think?" Burak nodded, "It is"...
"I hope everything goes well, insallah" Burak lets out a sigh as he gazed up, "It will go as you want" Ali shots him a questioning look, -Because I made no mistakes...
Ali then smiles* "I have to say... I'm glad that a girl as beautiful as Meryem is marrying our Nur. The elderly man murmurs--to that, Burak's lip formed a soft smile, his daughter's pleading face flashed through him, -And she got that temper right from her too...
Their conversation fades as we then cut back to the bride's area. There inside the room were her bridesmaid and her maid of honor--Zehra. The women wore less eye catchy attire, just a simple white robe as they swiftly moved around.
There Infront of the mirror sat Ayse. Her eyes wandered off as Zehra strode to her. She fixed her delicate locks, braiding it neatly as she then put in in a bun. She gazed at her madam, waiting, sensing a response.
"Don't you like it, my lady?" Ayse's warm brown orbs flickered at her reflection, eyes falling to her crimson veil. She looked stunning, absolutely stunning. Her rosy lips quivered as Nur's face flashed through her.
How he had a stared at her as if this was just another meeting. How his icy blues made her shiver--this was no warmth that she once thought she will find.
This was her wedding, the very day she was aching for. Yet he destroyed even this.
Ayse rose to her feet making Zehra step back. "Madam"... a single whisper. Then--"Get out"... her voice came out beyond done. As she gave the women a glare. They lowered their heads and walked off.
Madam stay calm... Zehra's hands hovered over her own mouth as she watched in utter horror to how Ayse strode to the mirror. Her eyes then fell to a box of Kleenex. Ayse tore one from it, her hands shot up to her face as she wiped away. Even the last bit of residue wasn't missed as she made sure to wipe it clean.
She tossed it to the bin then clutched at the table with trembling hands. Her chest heaved as she stared at herself. "Should she smile...?"
Zehra... please leave me alone... She hesitates yet obeys. "As you wish, I will be coming to get you right before then" The door then clicked shut.
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To be continued>>>>>>>>>>>>