by Amelia Brown
Luveday stood looking at the faux gems as they caught the light. The memory of her family was bittersweet but still made her smile. She knew that Abigail would not mind that she was giving the pins away, in fact, the little girl would have been excited to give something to a bride on her wedding day.
Elysant cried when Emmalyn presented her with a woven hair covering as was a tradition for a bride. The golden mesh-like fabric would be passed down from mother to daughter for generations. Henna gave the bride an embroidered handkerchief, the pattern around the edges matched the flowers they had made for the ceremony. Agnes had snuck away from the kitchens long enough to present a small bride cake, another wedding tradition that Luveday was coming to know. Elysant ate it with tears in her eyes. The women had gone out to pick what flowers were brave enough to grow in early spring, and they mixed the real flora with the sturdy bunch that they had made. Luveday had learned that floral bouquets were not one of their traditions, but once the women had learned of the idea they had insisted upon it.
When it was finally Luveday’s turn, she felt her gift might be too grand, but she wanted Elli to have it. “Dearest Elli,” the tears were already flowing, and Luveday hadn’t even gotten to the gift yet. Laughing to herself and trying to hold back her own happy tears she continued, “we are friends, you and I.” The girl nodded enthusiastically. “I hope you will accept these gifts and wear them today.” Whatever profound and pretty words she had planned to say were lost as Luveday handed over the bag and placed a dozen or so hairpins in her friend’s hand.
Emmalyn came and took the pins, “How lovely, Elli.” She said. Luveday took one after another and used them to pin the veil in place.
With shaky hands and a quivering chin, Elysant opened the velvet bag. Its contents tumbled into her open palm, and the whole room gasped. The green of her wedding gown, the same gown that had been altered for Iain’s wedding, would show the stones off to perfection. Luveday received a hug that felt strong enough to crush her bones, while Emmalyn wiped tears from her cheeks. Elli insisted that Luveday put the necklace on her, and as the train of women flowed down the stairs, out the door, and to the chapel, Luveday was heartened to see her friend stroke the necklace and hoped it gave her some courage.
Before the doors of the chapel stood Father Quinn, dressed in burgundy attire wearing a priest’s lapel as a symbol of his office. To the right was Sir Gregori in hunter green that matched his bride. Iain stood by his side wearing a blue that was similar to Luveday’s own gown. Luveday watched Gregori’s expression as he first caught sight of his bride and had never seen such a loving look on the man’s face. She could not help glancing beside the groom and nearly stumbled when a similar expression shined down on her from Iain’s bright eyes. He smiled, and she hoped that none but her had seen the look in his eyes.
Facing the people amassed there, Iain gained the attention of the crowd. “Welcome friends. We gather here to hear the vows between these two, but before we begin,” Iain pulled from his over tunic a piece of paper, those standing closest to the steps could make out the red of a royal seal. “Here I hold a missive from the King. Mistress Elysant of Lander’s Keep,” the crowd gasped at the title, “Had been entered into the royal registry as an acknowledged and blooded member of the line of the house of De Lane, recognized these three years as a ward of my house.” Luveday only vaguely understood the enormity of what Iain had just said. Emmalyn swayed on her feet, her tears coming in earnest. Elli looked shell-shocked and ascended the last steps to her place beside Father Quinn in a daze; it was only Luveday’s steadying hand that got her there without incident.
Upon a slight nod from Iain, Father Quinn began vows that were eerily similar to those of her own world. “We are gathered here today in the sight of the Great Creator and the presence of friends and loved ones, to add our best wishes and blessings to the words which shall unite Sir Gregori of Brooke Abbey and Young Mistress Elysant of Lander’s Keep in holy matrimony.” The priests’ voice flowed over the crowd in rich tones. “Marriage is a most honorable estate, created and instituted by our Creator in his love for us, so too may this marriage be adorned by true and abiding love.” Silence settled over the area, as the priest’s gaze fell on the men and women before him. “Should there be anyone here who has cause why these two should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever more hold their peace.” It was as if the crowd held its breath. After an appropriate pause, he continued. “Who is it that brings this woman to this man?”
Elysant had asked her friend days ago to be her maid of honor and stand with her, Luveday had been honored to accept. “I do,” Luveday guided Elli forward and placed the bride’s hand within the groom’s and stepped back.
Father Quinn gave her a reassuring smile as Luveday resumed her spot in front of the crowd before he continued on. “Sir Gregori and Young Elysant, life is given to each of us as individuals, and yet we must learn to live together. Love is given to us by our family and friends. We learn to love by being loved. Learning to love and living together is one of life’s greatest challenges and is the shared goal of married life.” Luveday’s eyes met Iain’s behind the couple, and she alone caught the flash of pain there.
“But a husband and wife should not confuse love of worldly measures for even if worldly success is found, only love will maintain a marriage. Mankind did not create love; love is the work of our Creator. The measure of true love is a love both freely given and freely accepted, just as His love of us is unconditional and free.” Something inside Luveday clicked into place, and she had the feeling that Father Quinn was speaking to Iain and herself. A few moments later she was sure of it. “Today truly is a glorious day the Lord hath made – as today both of you are blessed with the greatest of all gifts – the gift of abiding love and devotion between a man and a woman. All present here today – and those here in heart – wish both of you all the joy, happiness and success the world has to offer. As you travel through life together, I caution you to remember that the true measure of success, the true avenue to joy and peace, is to be found within the love you hold in your hearts. I would ask that you hold the key to your heart very tightly.” At that moment the doors to the chapel opened from the inside, and Father Quinn turned to lead the procession in for the mass and final vows.
Gregori and Elli followed behind the priest, Iain and Luveday were next; Lord Stern escorted Lady Emmalyn, while Agnes begrudgingly took Sir Fullers arm. Others followed behind, but the crowd was too dense for her to see.
Luveday knew the exact moment each person finally noticed the decorations. Candles burned in clusters to light the dark corners as sunshine streamed in high windows and the one stained-glass rose window behind the altar. The knights had helped to finish the decorations and came up with ways to hang the decor as Luveday had imagined, but no one other Father Quinn had been allowed in the chapel after that. Luveday has spent two days, working from evening and late into the night to finesse the flowers and fabrics.
Elli had confided that she had always wished to be wed during the spring at High Castle, the home of Lady Emmalyn. The walk to the church was down a lane flanked by blossoming trees that had perfectly melded the white of winter and the greens of spring. Luveday had done her best to recreate that here. Men had cut branches the size of young trees and whitewashed the leafless bowers. Luveday had worked to make extra garlands of fabric flowers from natural linen and used a technique much like paper-mache to harden the blossoms and attach them to the branches. The flowers that the women had made were arranged artfully around the large room, the blooms held only a hint of color, while dried leaves had been cut down, whitewashed and tinted to resemble their former selves. The abundance of whitewashed plants should have given the room a haunted, frozen look, but instead, the chapel looked enchanted and elegant.
It was only a glance over the bride’s shoulder, but Luveday caught the look of wonder and gratitude that the girl flashed at her. The guests settled into their seats, awed into sil
ence as they observed the decorations. Father Quinn took his place before the altar, with the bride and groom before him, and Iain and Luveday taking their place to the left and right to stand as the witnesses before the Creator and the congregation. Gregori and Elli knelt before the altar, ready to receive the prayer and blessings.
After a long and heartfelt prayer in Latin, the last vows were exchanged. Father Quinn motioned for the couple to rise. “Would you please face each other and join hands.” Turning to the knight, he began. “Sir Gregori of Brooke Abbey, do you take young Elysant to be your wife? Do you swear before the Creator to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only to her forevermore?”
The large knight had to clear his throat before he could voice the traditional, “I do so swear.”
Then it was the bride’s turn. “Elysant De Lane of Lander’s Keep, do you take Sir Gregori to be your husband? Do you swear before the Creator to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only to him always?”
Elli’s voice was strong and clear as she echoed, “I do so swear.”
Father Quinn smiled at the resolve in her words. “Sir Gregori and Mistress Elysant, as the two of you, come into this marriage uniting you as husband and wife, and as you this day, affirm your faith and love for one another, I would ask that you always remember to cherish each other as irreplaceable and unique individuals, that you respect the thoughts, ideas, and suggestions of one another. Be able to forgive one another, do not hold grudges, and live each day that you may share it together – as from this day forward you shall be each other’s home, comfort, and refuge, your marriage strengthened by your love and respect.”
Luveday had always gotten the feeling that there was something different about Father Quinn, that his views were not quite popular with the church. In her mind she termed it being too “modern,” and she had never been so aware of the fact as when she looked to the back of the chapel and saw many of the men and women frown at his phrasing. Talk of equality, of love and respect between man and wife, was not the norm and probably wouldn’t be for a few hundred years.
Uncaring about the few looks of censure he received, the priest concluded the ceremony, “May the Creature forever bless this union of two souls so well matched. It is my honor to pronounce you husband and wife. Go in peace.”
The chapel was surprisingly full of friend’s and a few noblemen, though most had stayed within the keep, unconcerned about the marriage of some lowly Knight. The dinner that followed was not the grand affair that would accompany the Lord’s wedding, but everyone had made an effort to make the occasion special for the bride and groom.
When it had grown late, and the time had come for the couple to retire, Luveday had a moment of concern for Elli but had to remind herself that this was the way of things. Luveday felt out of place as she was pushed along with the crowd toward the room where the two would be spending the night. The knights and woman of the castle hassled and teased the bride and groom until both were laughing and red with embarrassment, but still too happy to care. Hanging back, Luveday merely wished to see that everything in the room had been taken care of before leaving the rowdy crowd and turning to find her own room.
The day could not have gone smoother, and Luveday sighed as she walked down the quiet hall, her thoughts in opposition. Once again, Iain snuck up on her, turning her into his embrace for a fiery kiss. She pulled away as laughter echoed down the corridor.
“Why sneak away? Was the merriment not to your liking, Lady?” Iain’s hands moved from the back of her shoulder blades to play with the wisps of hair at her nap.
The gesture was more comforting than sensual. “The last few days have been very long.”
Iain laughed though there was a hard note under the mirth. “Aye. You’ve done this house proud, Luveday. I could not have imagined what magic you performed today. Elli has never been happier.”
“She deserves the best.” Luveday looked up at him, tired and not wanting to pull away. “’Tis one of the happiest days of her life, I wanted to make it special, and no magic was needed, just a bit of ingenuity and imagination.”
“As you say.” He didn’t look like he believed her.
“Thank you, thank you for recognizing Elli publicly.” Emmalyn had briefly explained Elli’s elevated status that came with being an acknowledged member of the family. It was a precious gift, one not often given. She wondered why Iain had thought of it now, and not sooner, but she supposed such a gift was better late than never.
“You are welcome, though I did not do it for you.” He seemed amused by her gratitude. “Nor for Gregori either, he was happy to take the girl as she was.”
Luveday looked at him, confused. “For Elli then,” though it was more of a question than a statement.
“Aye,” he squeezed her close before turning them to continue down the hall that led back to the one that contained their rooms. “And for myself. I have always wondered about the girl. We could find no record of her parentage, but she is surely my brother’s daughter. She bears the family traits and birthmark, a gift that skipped even me.” Luveday had wondered, she had heard talk of a birthmark, but having seen Iain in all his glory, she had never spotted one. De Lane continued, obviously, the topic was one he had contemplated for a while. “It is not impossible that Willum had married her mother, but with both dead and no proof. Well, it finally occurred to me that I could change that by claiming the girl. It might not make much difference now, but someday they may be thankful for it.”
“I am sure she is thankful now.” Luveday let her hand move to his back, as he walked beside her, his own resting in the curve of her spine. They must have looked intimate, an arm wrapped around each other’s waist. As they turned the corner Christabel’s door came into view, and Luveday’s arm fell away.
He looked down at her puzzled by the sudden loss of intimacy but soon followed where her attention was focused. Placing his body between her and the offending door did not erase it from her mind or reality. She would not let him kiss her, not that she did not want a distraction from her thoughts, but she refused to be kissed outside his fiancé’s door.
Stepping away and around him, she maneuvered out of his grasp. “Goodnight, My Lord,” was said over her shoulder as she closed her own door behind her.
Chapter 14
He said true things, but called them by wrong names.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Spring had somehow blossomed overnight. Men and women crowded every nook and cranny of the keep. Luveday had never imagined such a conglomeration of nobility. Every room was full, the under-gallery was bursting with knights, and even the sewing room housed a dozen women who had come to help with the wedding day celebrations.
Many were up long before dawn, Luveday included. The kitchens had been cooking nearly non-stop since Elli and Gregori’s wedding. Though much of the castle was unhappy about the ceremony that was about to take place, no one stood to contradict the King’s decree, least of all Lord Iain. Through the bustle of preparations, Luveday had somehow decided concerning her life and Iain’s place in it. Though she had spoken to no one but Lord Benedict and Lady Emmalyn, and separately at that, there was a feeling that something monumental had been set upon the young lady’s shoulders. Many friends watched her throughout the preparations, and many nobles watched her out of curiosity or concern, but either way, Luveday felt the eyes of many on her every time she stepped from her room, and today was no exception.
“Watch it, girl!” Lord Sumerland was as mean-tempered as ever, but luckily, he had arrived only the evening before, and so Luveday had little time in his company. She bowed but didn’t apologize as if it wasn’t her fault that she had nearly poured the spiced wine in his lap not that it would make much difference to his attire. He wore deep burgundy velvets, matching leggings and large pieces of chunky gold jewelry. The combination was striking if a little overdone.
Luveday had picked up the pitcher
to pour drinks out of necessity as every other woman in the room seemed to be occupied; that Sumerland treated her no better than he treated any of the other serving women had ceased to surprise her. Even Elysant was still condescended to though De Lane’s acknowledgments of her had caused a storm of gossip and whispers.
Weaving through the crowd, she had little else to do at the moment as the guests waited for the bell to be wrung and to journey the short distance to the chapel tower. Coll appeared, grabbing her attention by snagging the skirt of her blue gown, the same one she had worn a week prior. Leaning in so she could hear the soft-spoken boy over the din of the crowd, she heard his words all too clearly as they sent a shiver of dread through her.
“My Lord wishes to see you.” And a moment later the boy was gone. Luveday had no doubt that Coll had meant right now. Iain’s mood had become increasingly changeable as the days had passed. Was it strange that she could sense his desperation, or was she merely projecting her own emotions onto him?
She handed off the nearly empty pitcher and passed by Lady Emmalyn as she headed for the solar. The women exchanged a look. Underneath the concern, Luveday thought she glimpsed a bit of pride from her mentor, which only solidified her own steely determination.
