Darlene Knight

March 22, 2020, 5:51 p.m.

Jealous, envious, and... a third synonym.

Alena was officially engaged. Darlene was very happy for her - they ran in similar circles both here and abroad, and Darlene had always rather liked the older girl, who had been kind to her since her first year at RMI - but she was also quite jealous of the circumstance. The fifth year knew she had set herself up for these feelings, since she was dating out of their social level and she knew that non-Purebloods didn’t arrange their marriages so far in advance, but darn it, she was jealous anyway.

She’d been doodling Mrs. Darlene Tennant on things for literal years now. At first she had been a little embarrassed by her own girlhood fantasies, but after gaining Kit’s support, she stopped bothering to hide her monogrammed notebooks. Kit was probably the only person who wanted Darlene and Drew to get married even more than she did. Which was nice on one hand, but unfortunate on the other. She needed Drew to want to marry her. That was the most important one.

Still, Darlene managed a smile as Alena flipped her magazine around to display a possible theme. “It’s nice,” the Lyra answered after giving it a glance. “I would see you in a bit more lace, though. But I do like the train.”

Darlene was a fan of the ornate and elaborate: her dress would be flowing with lace, with the most glittery veil she could find tucked into a tiara and set in a mountain of brown curls. The ceremony would be formidable but comfortable, with no more than ten bridesmaids and groomsmen and no less than four, preferably in an even number. More than ten was showy, but less than four was pathetic. The Knight patriarch, Uncle Charles, would have to walk her down the aisle, unfortunately, but her real father, Connor Thomas, would be in attendance, brimming with unspoken pride and seated, she hoped, beside her mother. It would be nice to see them together, just once. Darlene would walk the longest aisle, soaking in the admiring gazes of hundreds of people. And at the end would be her new life, and she would be Mrs. Andrew Tennant.

But that was neither here nor there. It was about Alena right now. Maybe Darlene could be next to plan. “That bodice isn’t right for you,” she added upon further inspection of the dress presented. “What about a sweetheart neckline?”

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