Angelica's marriage to her handsome and incredibly wealthy duke went wonderfully. At least as far as the church ceremony was concerned. The ceremony was moving and electrifying. The vows had been written and well thought out by both bride and groom. The kiss didn't seem like the first, nor the last. When asked if there were any opposers to this union, an absolute silence reigned. Edgar would have liked to oppose it, but his mother stopped him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.
"Everything will be fine," she said to him.
The young man nodded, but from that point on, nothing went as it should. During the reception at the duke's house, Edgar had the chance to dance with the bride, and from there, everything spiraled out of control.
The two danced while the world disappeared around them. There was only music. Her hand steady on Edgar's shoulder, their two hands interlaced, and finally, Edgar's hand on Angelica's back.
"How could you do this to me?" Edgar asked her.
"I don't understand what you're talking about," Angelica replied.
"You know I've always loved you, since our first dance in Italy."
"That was years ago. Some loves aren't meant to last, and we were just two kids."
"Two spoiled kids," Edgar corrected. "I would have married you," he added.
"Then why didn't you ever ask for my hand? I would have married you too."
"You know I'm shy and..."
"And what?" Angelica interrupted. "I couldn't wait for you forever. First, we were too young. Then you were too shy. Then there was your university, your beloved Medicine. While you healed other people's hearts, you broke mine. You broke it with your silence and your indifference."
"I was never indifferent to you."
"Yet, it seems the opposite. I was the one who invited you to our first dance. I was the one who studied a foreign language just to write you letters and send them to you in England. I was the one who moved, visited you here."
"Apparently, it wasn't time wasted. You met a beautiful and incredibly rich duke while, as you say, you visited me."
"Don't be sarcastic with me. I don't deserve it."
"You deserve him."
And Edgar looked the duke up and down. He was a tall, slender man. Blond with light eyes, blue or green. Edgar couldn't see him clearly from afar. He smiled, but the duke didn't return the gesture. The duke did nothing but stare at his bride, whose face had turned as white as her dress.
At that point, the groom approached the two and took the bride by the hand.
"Is everything okay, my dear?" he asked.
"Yes, of course. I just feel a little dizzy."
The music stopped, and another began. Cheerful children started dancing in pairs. Edgar's face darkened.
"Don't dance! Don't dance!" he shouted at the children, now trying to separate them. "Don't you know the danger that dances and the feelings can cause? Don't dance!"
"Please, take me away," the bride said to the duke.
"Of course... Someone stop him!"
The music stopped, and with it, both the children and adults ceased dancing.
"You're too young to fall in love. Falling in love isn't nice. Believe me. It really sucks, and it hurts too."
"Who are you?"
"I'm a doctor."
"A future doctor," Mr. Scott said, grabbing his son by the arm and dragging him behind him. "You've already caused enough of a scene. Now you need to go home."
"But the fireworks?"
Young Edgar's heart was racing, and his head started to spin.
"I'll take him home, I don't feel well," Katerina said, approaching the two.
"Do you think you can handle him?"
"He's my son, for heaven's sake!"
"Your drunk son."
"I'm not drunk. I'm just in love with her. With the duchess."
"You promised you'd behave today," Katerina complained, making him enter the carriage first. Then she followed, and the coachman extended his hand to her. She accepted it and smiled.
"Why are you smiling?"
Katerina didn't respond.
"Because every coachman reminds you of him, your coachman, doesn't it?"
The mother remained silent.
"Exactly. But that means that every duchess will remind me of her. Thank God there are few duchesses in the world."
"It hurts me to see you like this," Katerina said. "But I know you'll love again. The world doesn't end today. There will be other women. You're just getting started."
"I'm already twenty. I'm not that young."
"You'll find someone who will love you to despair. Maybe before you love her, you'll hate her. You're such a misogynist!"
"What, mother?"
"You're a misogynist, and strong, independent women don't like that."
"But I never said I wanted a strong, independent woman. A docile woman does more for me."
"I don't think you'll fall in love with a docile woman."
"And why not?"
"Because you wouldn't notice her. And how can you love a woman who doesn't exist for you?"