Cask of Amontillado Prequel

The cathedral was full of life. Its golden interiors, blasted with surreal Roman artwork and exquisite Bible mosaics, were filled with people as they sat in silence, watching the content couple say their vows. The only persons in this place that seized my interests were the bride and groom. Villeta and Fortunato.
Villeta was a young woman at the age of 23, with silky mid-length, curly, brown hair that was pulled into a braided bun and covered by a thin veil. Her figure was like that of a goddess, curvy with creamy skin as soft as the finest velvet. Her azure eyes were as deep as the sea and her eyelashes were as long as fringed curtains. Villeta Prideaux was of very high class, and was known and sought out by several people of her social standing. She was dressed in a royal blue dress that cut off to a stop above her bosom, with a simple, but intricate pattern of lace. Pure crystals adorned the bottom of the gown and an elaborate design was displayed on the side. She wore wrist length white gloves and flaunted a diamond studded necklace with a chaste aquamarine stone in the middle. Her garb fit her to perfection, and she could not look any better than she did now.
As I sat, I was enveloped in so many emotions, I almost felt sickened at the thought of them. I have had no such feelings as these all at once in my life before. It was akin to that of a despicable symphony, full of horrid music and a train wreck sound. I should be in high spirits for the bride and groom, but I could not bring myself to do so. Villeta…I’ve loved her for so long, yet she still had chosen Fortunato, and I could not feel myself in a merry mood at this time. My love marrying him, it churned a deep abhorrence in me, but it was anticipated. Although I am much more intelligent, he has always been more handsome, more rich, and much more…fulsome than me. Fit for an affluent, beautiful, and mature woman as her.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest said to the profligate couple. Bitter....