section7mfu | Bridal Escort - A Little Drabble Do Ya!

When Napoleon entered the room he was struck by the beautiful dress, which had a sumptuous and long train that she was wearing. Red was an unusual colour for any bride, but he it had not been chosen by her. She was looking out over the small kingdom which was owned by her husband to be. Napoleon gave a polite cough.

“Is it time already?” she asked, without looking around.

“Only if you want it to be,” Napoleon replied.

At the sound of the unknown voice, she turned to face him. As she turned, Solo could see that she had been crying; the red of her eyes mirrored that of her gown. Not that he could blame her. Fiorela Dioli was the daughter of an extremely powerful business man and, in exchange for overlooking his less-than-legal practices, she was being married off to Prince Patrizio.

“Who are you?” Fiorela demanded.

Napoleon introduced himself and explained that he was from U.N.C.L.E.

“Your mother is an old friend of my boss, Alexander Waverly, and she begged him for help,” he continued. “Agents have already transported your family out of the county, including your father, and my partner is outside waiting to get us out too. He has a helicopter waiting about a mile away.”

Fiorela dropped to her knees and wept into her hands.

“Thank you!” she gasped after a few moments. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Hurry,” he urged, helping her to her feet. “We have about half an hour before anyone realises that something is amiss.”

……………………………………………………………

They were well out of the country by the time the prince was informed his bride had disappeared, along with her family. Rather than the anger everyone in the court had expected, he merely laughed.

“Oh well,” he said. “There’ll be another.”

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