Dear diary
Today is my wedding day.
I've been awake since early morning getting ready for this day that’s supposed to be special for me, however I feel no joy or happiness only fear and dread. I met my fiancé the Crown Prince just two days ago, and it was a most horrible experience: he’s fat, oafish, and dirty, he smells, picks his fingernails, and worst of all he’s not very nice. And to think I imagined him to the most handsome man on earth or a God from Mt. Olympus, oh I feel like such a fool!
My maids have just come into my private suite with my wedding dress, and it’s so beautiful: its white brocade satin, with lace, pearls, and thousands of diamonds covering the entire dress. With the sunlight shining through the windows we were caught in a brilliant firestorm of glittering light. My ruby red hair is loose, and curly hanging down my shoulders, then my matching lace veil is very long, and attached with a shimmering tiara which was a gift from the king. As my ladies dress me I feel most afraid about the journey I’m about to take for life, can we survive as a couple?
As I walked towards the palace chapel carrying my bouquet of red roses, and my ladies carried my veil, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, my mistress of the household assured me that it was only pre wedding jitters, but I feel lots of fear that our marriage won’t be happy, that we won’t have children, and that we won’t be good rulers of Holland.
The doors to the chapel opened and the jewels worn by the court nobles were caught in the sunlight with intense brilliance, and as I walked down the aisle indeed no one glittered more than I did. When I reached the altar I gave my flowers to one of my ladies, I took Charles’ hand, and we knelt before the Archbishop. Then I felt him squeeze my hand, and as I looked into his eyes I realized that he’s as scared as I am. I made a promise right there that through patience and slowly unlocking his heart I’ll make Charles not just my friend but my husband.
As we took our vows I watched as Charles placed the golden ring on my finger in front of my diamond engagement ring, which belonged to his mother. I in turn place a gold ring on his finger, we were pronounced husband and wife, and Charles kissed me.
While the guests assembled in the immense ballroom for the reception, I retreated to my chambers long enough to change my gown to one that the royal seamstresses made just for me and it’s most beautiful: layered soft pinks, floral greens, ivory, and covered in diamonds and pearls. I also wore a splendid diamond necklace with matching earrings that belonged to the king’s mother and my tiara from my veil.
After Charles and I enjoyed our first dance together with the guests looking on, he went to mingle while I slipped away to the balcony where I saw the loveliest view of the city beyond The Hague, and the fireworks display set off to celebrate our wedding. As I stood out there I had many thoughts running through my mind: would we have a good marriage? Would we have healthy children? And when our time came would we be good rulers? As these thoughts went around my mind, I sighed looked at the rings on my finger, and I began to weep softly as reality set in: I’m married, a new crown princess, and I’m going to be Queen of Holland! My life has changed forever and hopefully for the better.
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