Doña Guadalupe had commissioned the most expensive dress money could buy, made of royal blue silk with gold thread embroidery, hoping the opulence of the outfit might distract attention from her daughter’s corpulent figure.
But as Jimena descended the marble staircase into the main hall, the murmurs and pitying glances were like daggers piercing her soul.
“Who would want to dance with such a whale?” the young Count of Salvatierra had murmured, not bothering to lower his voice.
His words were greeted with nervous snickers by other young men of high society, who saw Jimena’s humiliation as a cruel form of entertainment.
The young woman felt as if the marble floor had opened beneath her feet, but she maintained the composure that years of aristocratic education had taught her.
