[ twenty-three ]

As guests arrived at the palace, the orchestra struck up the music and large carts of presents began to pile up at the Mordiya Gate. The Jegenway, dressed in their best suits tailored by Felicia LeMier, led both couples and the unaccompanied around the palace to the back courtyard, where between the chapel and the palace those who had already arrived congregated. Some were meeting and greeting, while others were having quiet conversations over the glasses of champagne and plates of cubed cheese that servants had offered from their trays, all in anticipation of the ceremony that was to begin when the clock in the tower of the Town Square chapel struck one in the afternoon.

Despite the ever-present smog that loomed above, the courtyard was quite pleasant, and even the water flowing from the fountain in the middle of the courtyard was pristine and sparkled. The fountain itself was made of lapis lazuli, and shone in the unusually lovely sunlight. It had been Marina’s idea, transported from the north from a king’s artisan. Most of the wedding decorations, as was the custom, were black and white, and Marina’s dress was the color of her eyes. The fountain had been the best addition to the wedding decor, even Brennan thought—it matched Marina’s blue gown, and made the ambiance more pleasant with its soft gurgle. It also became a great conversation piece to the guests, who were mostly acquainted with each other but did not want to talk politics at a wedding.

&&&

When Queen Hillaire Yecateríne’s coach pulled up to the Mordiya Gate, a trumpeter played a short, obligatory salute. It caused a stir among the other guests, who turned in the direction from which they had come to see her enter the yard. They, although nobles and wealthy persons themselves, stood in awe of Her Majesty wherever they crossed paths. As they were invited to most aristocratic events in most empires and kingdoms, the guests at Marina and Brennan’s wedding all bowed to the Yecateríne Dynasty’s queen as well as to the aging Empress of Zeraphathia.

After a moment of silent homage, the guests stood from their bows and returned to their conversation partners, and Hillaire eased into the crowd with two of her servants at her heels. The Queen was in her prime; nearing her mid-thirties, she was elegant and graceful. She wore her long, beautiful blond hair up in a complicated style, with only a small ponytail to run down to the small of her back. Her dress was cranberry with long, tight sleeves and a high collar; its train was short and did not need to be held off the ground, and the skirt gave her only the slightest of a bell shape. Hillaire’s only flaw that the public could see was that she was still unwed and had no desire for a suitor. She filled her time with humanitarian work and representing her clan at social events; her twin brother Rorian had proven himself when they were children to be the better political head, and so he filled that role as well as being the dynasty’s hope for an heir to the throne. As such, Rorian and his family were rarely seen outside of the palace in which Rorian and his sister had been raised. For the twins’ partnership, Hillaire was the better known of them.

She greeted every man and woman her skirt brushed past as she and her servants made their way into the chapel, where the pews had been lined with satin cushions. There were some others in the chapel as well, some fanning themselves and some simply looking in awe at the elaborate altar with which the Zeraphaths’ shaman worshiped. Hillaire gratefully accepted a glass of champagne from one of the servants and sipped it lightly as she waited.

&&&

“It is now ten minutes to one o’clock,” two Jegenway standing guard at the back door into the palace announced, in unison. “Please enter the chapel and take your seats; the ceremony will begin shortly.”

Those guests who were not already inside crowded to get through the double doors and in to the cushioned pews. The chatter continued, but the voices lowered to cathedral whispers. Behind the guests Jegenway closed the doors, so that the grand entrance of the bride would be just that: grand, and maybe even a tad theatrical. The groomsmen came in through the side doors, half led by Brennan from the left and half by Barlow Straim, his best man, on the right. The shaman entered from the front doors, garbed in his white tuxedo, black shirt, and red bow tie that had become a part of the wedding tradition. The lines of men made their ways to the front of the chapel, and when they took their places the first processional poured from the pipe organ. Marina’s bridesmaids, led by Kikiyona, the maid of honor, followed the shaman’s path, tailed by Mica, who was dressed similar to the shaman as the ring bearer, and Theresa’s niece who was nearest his age. The flower girl dropped blue rose petals from her hand basket as she walked alongside the servant boy.

Once everyone was in place, the organist changed his tune again, and Theresa in her own wedding gown took Marina by the arm and led her through the double doors of the chapel and down the aisle. The guests stood reverently and watched this unusual practice. It had been Theresa’s suggestion, that although Marina’s father was not alive, she should still be ceremonially given away. Marina looked straight ahead through her light veil, her eyes on Brennan’s so that her nerves would not get the best of her. The music, the chapel, and the sight of her mother brought Marina to tears. Wow, she thought. This is real. I can’t believe this is really happening. For a fleeting moment the dizzying sensation of unreality washed over her, and she thought she might collapse from it until it was past. Her heart beat rapidly and to her horror she could feel her throat drying up. She cleared her throat as Theresa extracted her arm from Marina’s and left the fifteen year old there at the altar, facing her fiancé.

“We gather here today to join Brennan Zeraphath and Marina Calder in holy matrimony. This marks a new era not only for them, but for Zeraphathia as a new emperor and empress rise to power. May they be as good to this empire as Prince Brennan’s mother Theresa and father Tamesis, may he rest in peace, were for nearly half a century.”

The shaman’s speech continued, but the couple before him were deaf to it.Brennan lifted the veil from Marina’s face and placed it gently over her hair, which had been pulled back in a complex style, all except a few strands in the front that had been curled into ringlets. Marina’s blue eyes met Brennan’s violet ones, and they held each other there. The guests sat back in their pews and watched silently, as if any bit of noise could ruin the magic of this moment. “You may say your vows,” the shaman instructed, breaking the trance that had held the bride and groom. “Master Brennan, if you will.”

The thirty year old took her hand in his and breathed deeply before he spoke. “Dear Marina, I, Brennan Ashley Zeraphath, hereby pledge myself to be faithful. I give myself wholly to you this hour and I promise to guard, cherish and protect you all the days of my life, whether the gods smile upon us or bring fire and brimstone up to punish us. I’m yours as long as you’d have me; and may that be forever.”

Marina’s eyes once more welled with tears. She was so flustered she almost forgot what her own vows had been. It took her a bit to compose herself, and a little longer to get the words to come: “I, Marina Renee Calder, offer you myself in marriage, to be the mother of your children and the Empress your family needs me to be. I pledge, in honesty and with sincerity, to be for you an obedient and faithful wife, and to come to love you the way that my mother loved my father. I promise never to hurt you as long as I may call myself your wife.”

&&&

The shaman brought forth from the altar a wooden pipe and a long match. He struck the match against the underside of the pipe, which had been carved adequately for that purpose, and lit the dried leaves in the hole in the middle of the pipe. Smoke billowed up from the hole as the shaman put the match out and put it back down on the altar. He held the pipe out between Brennan and Marina, and as they had been previously instructed, the two took it up between them and held it with the tips of their fingers. At the same time, they both took a drag on the pipe and then withdrew from it. They blew the smoke to either side—Marina to Brennan’s right, and Brennan to hers—until there was no more in their mouths. The shaman took the pipe from them and put it down on the altar. Marina’s head began to swim a bit from the opiate in the pipe, and she maintained control of herself with great effort. She felt wobbly, but from the lack of change in Brennan’s expression she was not reacting visibly, although he, too, was feeling a bit dizzy himself.

“Mica, the rings, will you?” the shaman beckoned to the boy.

Obediently Mickey took the ring cases from his pockets and opened each to whom they were to go. When they took the rings he smiled at Marina as he stepped away, closing the cases and bowing as he took a few steps backwards.

Marina put Brennan’s ring on him first. It was a rather large, elaborate ring, made of gold-plated rhodium, and laden with a large diamond surrounded by tiny onyxes. The heft of the thing caught Marina slightly off guard, and she felt as if she was fumbling with it when she went to slip it around Brennan’s thick finger.

Brennan, however, had no such insecurities. He took first the heirloom ring, a thin gold band ringed with diamonds, and slid it down Marina’s long and slender ring finger. The second ring was uniquely Marina’s, a slightly thicker platinum band with three inset star sapphires and one set opal; this he slipped onto her finger above the family ring. Marina wiggled her finger slightly so that the stones glittered in the light that was shining through the ceiling window.

The shaman announced, “Now you may kiss the bride.”

For a moment, Marina and Brennan simply stared at each other. He leaned in to her, and Marina tilted her head up to receive him. Their lips touched, then locked, and Marina allowed his tongue to make its way into her mouth for the first time. But the kiss lasted for a very short time before the shaman reintroduced Mr. and Mrs. Brennan and Marina Zeraphath.

&&&

It was nearing four o’clock when the recessional ended. Most of the guests went on their ways back to their homes, and only a select few were invited to stay for the dinner afterward. The kitchen staff worked all day to prepare a delicious supper for the newlyweds, their attendants, other close family, and Hillaire Yecateríne, who had been a friend of Brennan’s since they were children.

During dessert, Hillaire drummed her fork against her glass lightly to get the table’s attention. “Marina, dear, I’d like you to see the present I got you before I take my leave. Would you?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Brennan ordered one of the Jegenway to bring the Queen’s present to the dining room. After a few minutes, the Jegenway reappeared with what looked like a birdcage covered with a small sheet. He set it before Marina at the table and whatever was beneath the sheet giggled.

Marina was in awe of what she saw when she pulled up the sheet. They were three fairies, who glowed quite distinctly blue, red, and green. “Wow,” Marina breathed. “I’ve never seen fairies before.”

“These fairies work as midwives. Marina, meet Azuralyn, Veridia, and Rosluv.” the Queen replied.

“Hello,” Marina said awkwardly to the three small, winged women.

“Nice to meet you, Marina.” Rosluv replied. She was sitting on the left side of the perch in the little cage, with Veridia between Azuralyn and herself.

Azuralyn waved delightfully. “Hi!”

Marina smiled at both in turn and then looked at Veridia. “She’s very shy,” Hillaire told her. “But she does warm up, don’t you, Veridia?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Do they have to be in this cage always?” Marina asked.

“No, no, I just thought it would be safer for them in the coach if they had their own little seats. You’re welcome, dear. I hope they’ll be as good to you as they were my mother and my sister-in-law. Lord knows I may never need midwives.” The older woman chuckled at herself.

Marina pulled the little latch and let the fairies out of their cage. They each fluttered out and sat on the edge of the table, facing the teenager. She set the cage down on the floor until dessert was over.

&&&

After dessert, Hillaire excused herself to start the journey home, and while the rest of the family chatted in the lounge Marina took the fairies up to her living quarters, where she set up one of the guest rooms specially for them. Azuralyn yawned grandly, throwing her arms up and stretching her legs as she did. “Are you all going to bed?” Marina asked.

Rosluv put a finger to her chin to ponder it for a second. “Yes, probably.”

Marina pulled a corner of the blanket out for the three, and they flitted over and nestled into the pillow. “Good night,” she told them, tucking them in and shutting off the light.

“Congratulations on getting married,” Veridia said, finally.

[ twenty-two ]

Brennan’s extended family came to Mephysta for the rehearsal of the wedding dinner. Around the supper table were gathered what remained of Theresa’s relatives: her brother-in-law, Duke Archibald of Gelaur, who was only a few years younger than his now-deceased brother; Theresa’s own sister Varlina, who never married, and their brother Charles, whose wife gave him fourteen children before the consumption took her; and two of her nieces and Charles’s oldest son, Carlene, Lydia, and young Charles. The rest of Charles’s children had left Bitamia, the large province that became part of the Zeraphaths’ empire as a condition of Theresa’s marriage to Tamesis. Theresa’s father had been a savvy businessman, apart from how he governed his province; he bought his family into even greater prominence by marrying his daughter to the emperor’s son, and from that alliance his family and their progeny prospered.

Scullery servants brought out each course of the meal to the family as they conversed. Marina, Sunila, and Kiki mostly sat and listened to the reminiscing of Theresa and her siblings, and Archibald’s stories about Tamesis—and there was a wealth of memories to be recounted, as none of them had seen each other for decades. After the main course, before dessert was served, Brennan stood at the head of the table with Marina at his side. He and Barlow had worked for long hours putting together his speech, and in front of his closest relatives the words fell easily from his lips.

“Hello everyone. Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to be with us tonight. I hope you enjoyed this dinner our kitchen staff prepared for you tonight. The roast was amazing and I’m looking forward to the pineapple dessert they’ll be bringing out soon.

“As you all know, this week I will be marrying Miss Marina Calder here at the chapelyard behind Mephysta. A week from today she and I will become the new monarchs of this empire that my father’s family has built. I hope you’ll all be able to attend both ceremonies, but if you can’t I’m sure you’ll hear about it some way or another.”

Brennan flashed a coy smile to his kin. It melted from his face as he locked eyes with his uncle, whose own eyes were aged and humorless. His brother’s death had not been easy on the old duke; his face was gaunter than Brennan remembered it, and though he had not been garrulous before, Archibald had become much more of a brooding figure in the days since Tamesis’s death than he had ever been in all the time Brennan could recall.

“Uncle Archibald has written recently to me, asking that I name a successor to his duchy, as he has no direct heir, and the death of my father has brought this issue to the forefront.

“As it goes in royal families, being the oldest son my father left me with the world at my disposal, and my poor brother with nothing but a few servants and a cottage in the hills. So I submit to both my uncle and my brother that Dmitriy be the inheritor of the duchy of Gelaur.”

The look on Dmitriy’s face was hard for Brennan to read. He couldn’t tell if it was one of shock, excitement, fear—or maybe some combination of the three. It was no small responsibility to rule, and Brennan was well aware that his brother had grown up without the slightest inclination toward responsibility, since it had not been in his future as a child. “I guess I should have told you first, before announcing it like this, Dim. I apologize.”

Dmitriy shook the alien expression from his face and put on the hint of a smile. “Don’t be sorry, Bren. It’s a happy surprise. Now get on with your speech so we can have dessert.”

The others at the table chuckled. Marina’s eyes drifted between the two brothers, her thoughts torn between what they represented to her. In Brennan Marina found her anxiety over the new life she was about to embark upon, and the duties that were to come along with it. She didn’t think she could be the empress that Zeraphathia required, or the wife Brennan needed her to be. And that was where her thoughts found Dmitriy, to the marriage in which Marina was already unfaithful. She could only court with the horrors of how Brennan would react if he found out about their affair. In her heart of hearts Marina wished that he would never come to know of it, and that it might continue—even if she would not admit this to herself. She in fact could not touch this thought; her mind could poke and sniff about it, but if ever she brought the idea to consciousness she quickly banished it back into the blackness of her subconscious. It felt as if everyone near her could read Marina’s thoughts through her eyes, and that dread was even stronger surrounded by her fiancé’s relatives.

Marina came out of her reverie and looked up to Brennan, who had resumed his speech when her mind had wandered. “…now I’m sure you’re all sick of listening to me and are ready for dessert. So, without further adieu, Marlene, please tell the staff to bring out the pineapple sundaes.”

Brennan sat down beside Marina. Marlene knocked with her open palm on the kitchen door, and almost at once a silver cart burst through the doorway, bearing small dessert plates with little dessert utensils and a small pineapple sundae on each plate. These were slices of grilled pineapple, each with one scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, all drizzled with caramel sauce. Once everyone had a dish set before them, they slowly indulged in the sweet treat and the conversations reminiscing about this union of two imperial families in its prime.

&&&

“I loved your speech at dinner,” Marina said, once she and Brennan reached the door to her suite. “You were very witty.” She smiled up at him and wrapped a small, delicate hand around one of his.

For a second it seemed to her that Brennan almost blushed. “Barlow wrote most of it. A master speech writer, that man is—but thanks, I’ll take the compliment.” Brennan let his free hand brush against Marina’s cheek affectionately before he rested it atop the gold door handle to her wing of the palace. He bent down to kiss Marina lightly on the lips, then retreated from her. The early buds of love had taken root in Brennan’s heart for this girl, but even as they were engaged he did not want to create scandal for her with premarital intimacy.

Marina herself felt her heart fluttering in her bosom. She wanted to kiss him again but restrained herself. In some ways she felt guilty to kiss Brennan when she knew that his brother would come to her bedside only a few hours later. “Good night.” Marina’s eyes averted from Brennan’s to the door, and the man, who was eighteen years her senior, threw it wide for her.

“Good night,” Brennan replied, as Marina stepped through the doorway beneath his outspread arm. He shut the door behind her and retired to his own chambers, to remove the stiff collar from his throat and drown a pony of scotch before he crawled into his massive and empty bed.