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MidReal Story
The Windsors
Scenario:A story set in the 1700 in England about a young girl (19 years) forced to marry a 25 year old man and be "the perfect wife". They are both rich and aristrocrets
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Emily Windsor
first_person_protagonist, female. She is a young girl from a wealthy family, forced into an arranged marriage with Henry Windsor due to her father's debts. She is determined, anxious, and reserved. Emily struggles with the news of her engagement and feels overwhelmed by the responsibilities of being a wife. She is hesitant to leave her parents but understands the necessity of the situation. Her wedding looms over her, and she fears the unknowns of marriage to a stranger.
Emily's Father
side_character, male. He is in significant debt to Henry's father and arranges for his daughter to marry Henry to settle the debt. He is desperate, regretful, and hopeful. The father knows that Emily will face hardships but believes that marrying into the Windsors' family will provide her with a better life. He tries to prepare Emily for her new role but ultimately feels guilty about entrusting her to another man for financial salvation.
Henry Windsor
protagonist, male. He is a 25yearold aristocrat who has just married Emily under duress, helping to pay off his father's debts. He is charming, distant, and selfcontrolled. Henry feels trapped by his circumstances and resents Emily for being part of his unwanted marriage. Despite his initial coldness, he begins to show signs of affection and protection toward Emily, especially when she falls ill. He struggles with balancing his duties as a husband with his emotional responses toward Emily.
I am not a cryer, yet the past few days have been emotionally draining for me, and I am struggling to keep my feelings together.
My life has taken a dramatic turn in the past week, and I am finding it difficult to come to terms with my new reality.
I am to be married off to a man I have never met before in my life, all because of my father's carelessness.
He incurred so much debt that my marrying this man is the only way out.
The worst part is that this man is six years older than me.
I am only 19 years old, while he is 25.
I keep wondering what the future holds for me and if I will be able to live with him happily ever after.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to face the door.
It is probably Lucy, my best friend, who has come to help me prepare for my wedding.
"Come in," I call out.
The door opens, and Lucy walks in with her servant, Penny.
"Hello, dear. How are you feeling today?"
Lucy asks as she nears me.
I sigh and shake my head.
"I am okay," I reply as she sits down on the bed beside me.
Penny begins to tidy up my chambers, picking up the clothes that are scattered all over the room and putting them away in the closet.
She then moves to the vanity and begins to straighten it up.
As she is about to put my hairbrush away, she notices a piece of paper tucked under it.
She picks it up and examines it.
"Miss, what is this?"
Penny asks as she turns to face me.
I look at her and notice that she is holding a sealed letter.
"It is a letter," I reply as I take it from her.
"Who is it from?"
Lucy asks as she looks at me with curiosity in her eyes.
I turn the letter over and examine it.
The seal is pressed with the Windsor family crest, which means that it is from Henry Windsor, my soon-to-be husband. "It's from Henry," I reply as I look at Lucy.
"Oh, open it," Lucy says excitedly as she moves closer to me.
I hold the letter in my hands, but I am too afraid to open it.
My hands are shaking, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
"Come on, open it," Lucy urges me again.
I take a deep breath and slowly break the seal on the letter.
As I do, Penny and Lucy watch me with anticipation in their eyes.
The letter falls open, revealing a thick parchment with elegant handwriting on it.
I unfold the letter carefully, smoothing the thick parchment across my lap.
Lucy leans closer to me so that she can read the letter as well.
The handwriting is precise and formal, and I can tell that it is from Henry.
The letter begins with formal pleasantries about our impending union and how he is looking forward to meeting me in person.
He writes about his family's expectations for our marriage and how he intends to be a proper husband to me.
He also writes about his plans for our future together and how he will provide for me and our children.
As I continue reading the letter, my fingers tighten on the edges of the paper.
His words are cold and methodical, like a business transaction rather than a declaration of love.
He writes about how he expects me to manage the household and take care of his children.
He also mentions that he expects me to fulfill my "wifely obligations" to him.
Penny snorts when she reads that part of the letter, but I don't find it funny at all. When I finish reading the letter, I fold it with mechanical precision and place it in my desk drawer.
Lucy looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something about the letter, but I remain silent.
"Well, what did you think of it?" she asks finally.
I shrug my shoulders and look away from her.
"It was fine," I reply flatly.
"Fine?" she repeats incredulously.
"That's all you have to say?"
I sigh and look at her again.
"What do you want me to say? It's just a letter."
"Just a letter?" she exclaims.
"It's your wedding vows! It's your future husband telling you how he feels about you."
"Lucy, it's not about feelings; it's about duty," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"But what about love, Anna? Don't you deserve that?" she presses, her eyes searching mine for some sign of hope.
"Love isn't part of this arrangement," I reply, my voice steady but my heart aching.
I stand before the mirror as Lucy and Penny help me into my wedding gown.
The dress is a masterpiece of ivory silk and French lace, with intricate embroidery that shimmers in the sunlight streaming through the window.
The weight of the fabric feels heavy against my skin, much like the burden of my impending union.
Penny's fingers work deftly to secure each pearl button down the back of the gown, while Lucy gently adjusts the delicate lace veil that frames my face.
My hair is styled in loose curls, adorned with white roses from our garden, their fragrance filling the air.
As I gaze at my reflection, I can hear the distant sound of carriages arriving outside, carrying guests to witness my union with Henry Windsor.
The sound sends a shiver down my spine, a mix of nerves and resignation.
A knock on the door interrupts our preparations, and I turn to see my father standing in the doorway, his face a mixture of guilt and forced cheerfulness.
"Emily, you look beautiful," he says, his voice trembling slightly as he offers me his arm.
I take a deep breath and nod, knowing that this is the moment I have been dreading for weeks.
As I place my hand on his arm, I catch one last glimpse of my childhood bedroom, knowing that I will never return here again as Emily Thompson. With each step toward the door, my slippered feet move against my will, as if drawn by an unseen force.
The weight of my wedding gown feels like a physical manifestation of the burden I am about to bear.
As we make our way down the stairs, I can hear the murmur of voices from the guests gathered below, their faces a blur as we pass by.
My father leads me to the entrance of the church, where Henry awaits me at the altar.
His eyes meet mine briefly, and I feel a jolt of uncertainty as I take in his stern expression.
The ceremony begins, and I repeat my vows mechanically, my voice barely audible above a whisper.
As Henry places the ring on my finger, I feel a sense of finality wash over me.
"Emily," Henry whispers as we turn to face the congregation, "there's something you need to know."
I glance at him, surprised by the urgency in his voice.
"This marriage isn't just about your father's debt; it's about saving my family's legacy too."
I sit alone at my writing desk, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the walls.
The Windsor seal stares back at me from the envelope, its crest a constant reminder of my new reality.
Outside my window, I can hear the distant sounds of servants preparing for the evening meal.
My fingers trace the edge of the envelope, remembering Henry's cold demeanor at our wedding.
With trembling hands, I break the seal and unfold the thick parchment.
The first words catch my breath - "My dearest Emily."
I scan further, my eyes widening as I read his confession about his family's gambling debts and a threatened scandal that could ruin us both.
"Why didn't he tell you this before the wedding?" Penny asks, her voice a mix of anger and disbelief.
"Perhaps he thought I wouldn't go through with it if I knew," I reply, my voice barely steady.
Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with concern. "Emily, you need to confront him about this."
I stand in the grand Windsor chapel, my heart pounding beneath layers of silk and lace.
The morning light filters through stained glass windows, casting colored shadows across Henry's expressionless face at the altar.
Father squeezes my arm as we begin our slow procession down the aisle, past rows of aristocrats I barely know.
Lucy dabs tears from her eyes in the front row while Penny, standing with the servants, gives me a reassuring nod.
When I reach Henry, his cold fingers grasp mine.
The priest's words blur together as I struggle to keep my composure.
"Emily," Henry whispers urgently, "there's something else I need to tell you."
I glance at him, my heart racing, as he continues, "I've arranged for us to leave for America after the ceremony."
"What?" I gasp, caught off guard by this unexpected revelation.
I sit stiffly in Henry's study, the scent of old books and leather filling the air.
He paces before the fireplace, his voice steady as he outlines his expectations.
"Firstly, you will attend all social functions with me. Secondly, you will oversee the household accounts and ensure they are balanced. Thirdly, you will manage the servants and ensure they perform their duties adequately."
I nod mechanically, my fingers twisting the new gold band on my finger.
"When we have guests, you will be charming but reserved. You will not engage in any conversation that could be deemed inappropriate or embarrassing to the Windsor name."
He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Lastly, you will maintain the standards of a Windsor wife at all times. I expect nothing but perfection from you, Emily."
His voice remains calm but firm, his words sinking in like a weight.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I meet his gaze.
Henry's eyes study me intently, perhaps searching for any sign of defiance or doubt.
I reach for the pen on his desk and begin to note down his instructions, my hand shaking slightly as I write.
After he finishes dictating his rules, I remain seated at his mahogany desk while he paces behind me.
The wooden floor creaks under his footsteps, the sound echoing in the silent room.
The list before me grows longer - specific times for meals, approved topics of conversation, designated areas of the house where I'm permitted to venture.
My corset feels tighter with each passing moment as I struggle to maintain proper posture under his watchful eye.
When he finally stops behind me and places a hand on my shoulder to examine my writing, I flinch involuntarily.
He notices, his fingers tightening ever so slightly before he withdraws his touch.
"Emily," he says softly, "I know this is overwhelming, but it's necessary for our survival."
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words. "And what about love, Henry? Is there room for that in your list of expectations?"
Henry's face darkens, and he slams his palm against the desk, making me jump in my chair.
I instinctively lean away from him, my heart pounding.
He begins to pace again, this time with a faster and more agitated stride.
"Love is a luxury we cannot afford," he says, his voice rising with each word.
"Duty comes first. Family honor is everything."
I shrink further into my seat as he stops in front of me, towering over me.
His eyes burn with intensity as he lists off the obligations I now carry as his wife.
"You will produce heirs, manage the household, and maintain our social standing."
I attempt to speak, but he cuts me off sharply.
"You will do as you're told," he commands, jabbing his finger at the paper where I've written his rules.
"Emily, I need you to understand the gravity of our situation," he continues, his voice softening slightly.
I look up at him, my eyes searching for any hint of the man I once thought I knew.
"And what if I can't live up to these expectations, Henry?" I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
He spins on his heel, leaving the room without a word.
I sit there for a moment, stunned and reeling from the intensity of his outburst.
The room feels suffocating, the walls closing in around me as I contemplate the reality of my new life.
Eventually, I rise from the chair and make my way to my private sitting room.
It's a beautiful space, with large windows that let in plenty of sunlight and offer a stunning view of the garden below.
But now, with Henry's rules weighing heavily on me, it feels more like a prison cell than a sanctuary.
I run my fingers over the intricate embroidery on the cushions, feeling the softness of the fabric against my fingertips.
It's all so beautiful, yet somehow it feels empty and meaningless in the face of the strict expectations placed upon me.
I walk over to the window and look down at the garden below.
Young couples stroll hand in hand along the winding paths, their laughter carrying up to me on the breeze.
They look so carefree and happy, completely oblivious to the suffocating rules that govern my life. As I stand there lost in thought, a knock comes at the door.
It's Lucy, one of our maids.
She enters with a bright smile on her face and carries a bouquet of fresh flowers in her hand.
"Good morning, Mrs. Windsor," she says cheerfully as she places the flowers on my dresser.
"Isn't it a lovely day?"
I force a smile onto my face as I thank her for bringing me some sunshine into my room.
But even her friendly chatter can't lift my spirits today.
As she busies herself dusting and tidying up around the room, I find myself staring blankly at my wedding ring.