village main street marguerite with @noteliamartineÂ
growth after adulthood, it would seem, was less like stretching taller and a great deal more like little fists pushing at the inside of ones ribcage: at times painful, at others merely an annoyance. the resistance of old vices and patterns since arriving at genovia hadn’t been entirely seamless, but for all the things she’d resisted, she allowed herself indulgence in the boutiques. shopping, surely, no political advisor or peer could fault her for. returning to the nondescript black town car parked on the side of the street, marguerite instructs the shop attendants to place the bags in the trunk before removing her phone from her pocket. the screen prevents her from early recognition -- it isn’t until she’s slid inside and had the door closed after her that the princess realizes she’s joined a man rather than solitude. “oh --”
