Beginnings, part II
posted January 26, 2008
As it turned out, it was Celena and not Hariotte that ended up being completely sick the next morning. I felt badly for my younger friend as she moaned and clutched her head beneath the covers. Unfortunately, she had no time to be ill as she was one of my bridal attendants. It was a queasy Celena that staggered to the dressing room to don her wedding outfit and get her hair and makeup done. Fortunately, Hariotte, who was also attending me for the wedding ceremony, was there to help Celena with her preparations and make sure that her unsteady friend showed up at the right place at the right time.
Allen would be appalled if he ever found out that his sister had drunk herself to such a condition before an event of this magnitude. However, it was not without its benefits. With her head pounding and her stomach churning, it was an uncharacteristically quiet, meek, docile Celena that simply did as she was told accompanying me to the wedding.
Aside from one hung over bridesmaid and a half hour delay to allow Chid to rush from his leviship to the cathedral for the ceremony, everything went as smoothly as silk. The weather was perfect, the people turned out in ecstatic droves, and no attacks were launched by hostile nations.
And best of all, the bride and groom were delighted with each other and more than eager to take their vows.
Having been pronounced husband and wife, Dryden and I board a gondola for a celebratory circuit around the city before returning to the palace for the wedding banquet. We smile and wave to the cheering crowds. The palace distributed flowers to the people prior to the ceremony, and spectators fling their blooms over the canal to cover us in a congratulatory shower of petals. My entire being is overflowing with joy and to have the entire city celebrating with us is taking me to new heights of giddiness.
"Happy?" Dryden asks as he snakes an arm around my waist. From the way he looks at me, I must be grinning like an idiot, but I don't care in the least.
"Quite," I reply. "Though I'll probably be combing flower petals out of my hair for the next few days." I flick a few of the aforementioned petals out of my veil.
Unlike my sisters, I chose not to wear the traditional Aston bridal headdress. In fact, I am not wearing any of the traditional royal wedding garb. It would have simplified the arrangements if I had, but given the circumstances of my union with Dryden, I anticipated enough comparisons being made between myself and Millerna without stepping out in the exact same attire she did. Not to mention, Marlene once compared the golden headpiece and heavy veil to wearing a large sackcloth on her head, and I knew that putting on the thing was just asking for a brutal headache on my wedding night.
So instead of the cumbersome antique piece, perched on my head is a delicately wrought golden tiara, studded with sapphires arranged in the shape of flowers. Attached to it is a short sheer piece of white tulle that flutters behind me in the blossom laden breeze. Hariotte had it made for me, and I'm grateful for her attention to both the style demanded by my station and my comfort.
Actually, my entire wedding ensemble, which amounts to a simplified and much more comfortable take on the traditional costume, was put together by Hariotte as a wedding present to me. The heavy shawl of blue and gold thread has been replaced by a stole of the same colors. While the cut of my dress is in the traditional pattern, it's made from a lighter fabric in a warmer hue (which Hariotte claims goes better with my complexion), and my skirts aren't nearly as bulky.
Dryden lifts a lock of my hair to his lips. "That's quite all right. I find you charming with flowers in your hair."
In response, I lean against him and savor his warmth and the cheers of the well-wishers. The throng's enthusiasm is almost overwhelming. "They're so happy for us," I marvel.
"Why shouldn't they be?"
"I just never expected such a positive response given... well... you know..."
While the arrangement caused some grumblings amongst the upper echelons and the Council, the common citizenry didn't have a bad thing to say about the royal family regarding the switch in princesses. Given its inauspicious beginning, it was a widely held belief that Dryden's marriage to Millerna was tainted with misfortune. The obvious strain between the royal couple only reinforced that view, and the prevailing sentiment was that their marriage was doomed to fail no matter what.
As for Millerna's retirement to convent life, it was deemed a fitting fate for the third Princess of Asturia. While everyone was charmed by Millerna's beauty, she had never quite captured popular opinion, especially given her reckless behavior before the war and recent long absence in Chezario, and she had long since alienated herself from the bluebloods of Asturia. So while some were sympathetic towards her, there was no outcry for the return of the Crown Princess. Dryden, on the other hand, had endeared himself to the people during his quest to make himself worthy of Millerna, and they were more than happy to have him maintain his status as heir apparent through me.
But the reception we receive as we cruise through Palas is so much more enthusiastic than anything I anticipated.
Dryden chuckles and tightens his grip on my hip. I can feel the heat from his hand practically burning through the fabric of my skirt and petticoat. "This may be simple of me, but happiness is contagious. No matter what the official word might be, I'm the happiest man on Gaea right now, and I think everyone knows it."
I don't know if Dryden is just saying that to butter up his newlywed bride, but amid the congratulatory shouts and applause, I eat up his words, every single one.
There is, however, one thought that prevents me from fully relishing the moment.
Dryden senses this and pulls a slip of paper from his vest to hand to me. "By the way, here are personal congratulations someone managed to sneak into my paperwork last night at the Chatal Mountains."
Unfolding the plain white stationery, I read:
"Eries and Dryden:
Jichia's favor be upon you on the day of your wedding. I wish the two of you every happiness in your marriage. Although I can't celebrate with you, know that I am rejoicing with all of my heart.
Love, Millerna
PS make sure those books get here soon. Alpon's convalescent home is about to undergo some major upgrades. Just you wait, the regimen here will be fit for a king by the time I'm through with it."
My heart aches the moment I recognize my sister's handwriting, but as I finish reading the message, that ache is gone, replaced by a fullness. I smile, tucking the note back into Dryden's pocket.
"Better?" He rubs the small of my back comfortingly with one hand even as he continues blowing kisses to the masses with the other.
"Yes."
"Good." As he replies, his hand on my back moves downward.
"Dryden..." I eye him suspiciously as his fingers fumble with the laces of my dress. "What exactly are you doing back there?"
He looks at me archly. "Just trying to figure out the fastest way to get this thing off of you."
"Getting ahead of yourself, aren't you? We're still in the middle of a parade."
"Doesn't hurt to scope things out early."
1010101
Dryden continues groping at my clothes even as we step out for our first dance. I protest that all eyes are on us, and that we shouldn't run the risk of my dress suddenly falling off my person in mid dance. Dryden, however, contends that his right hand is supposed to be back there anyway so why shouldn't he take advantage of the position. I huff that perhaps he should pay more attention to keeping in time with the orchestra as he is woefully off beat. He laughs, saying that moving in accordance with one's emotions is much more important than keeping in rhythm with the music, and dips me then and there.
Dryden... somehow he manages to turn a stately, traditional waltz into an exhilarating whirl. By the time we're done, I'm breathless from laughing and scolding at him, and it is apparent to everyone in the ballroom that the Prince Regent's relationship with his new bride will be markedly different than that with his previous wife.
Our guests applaud as he leads me towards the head table to meet our next dance partners. Father nods in acknowledgment to Dryden's bow, and with a kiss on my hand, Dryden goes to escort his mother down for their mother-son dance.
With a grunt, Father pushes himself out of his seat to standing position and takes my arm. As we shuffle slowly together, I whisper, "Are you ready for this, Father?"
With more sentiment than I thought possible, he replies, "I've been getting ready for this since the day you were born, Eries."
Prior to the wedding, Father's physical therapists and I instructed the orchestra director in no uncertain terms that it was imperative for the parents dance to be slow and short. Slow to allow Father at least the chance to keep up with the music, and short so as not to cause him the embarrassment of having to retire mid-dance.
However, Father has been working with his caretakers for weeks to prepare for this moment. From the determined fire in his eyes, I know that there is nothing that could compel Father to end this dance prematurely, even if it lasted ten minutes instead of two.
Still, I dance carefully. It's not so much me following Father's lead as it is a concerted effort to make sure he remains upright. I can honestly say that this is not how I imagined my father-daughter wedding dance to be like. Growing up, my father had always seemed somewhat larger than life - so confident, vigorous, powerful. How could he not? My father is a king after all. I never imagined him to be the weaker one. But he is, as I look down on him gripping tightly to my arms for balance. And I am literally looking down on him, as Father's body has shrunk, hunched, and shriveled since his stroke.
But he still is the father that I love and respect. He may not be as hale as he once was, but he has astounded me with the way he has fought his infirmity. My heart swells with pride as he makes determined step followed by determined step in keeping with the tempo, and I'm infinitely grateful that we can share this dance together.
On impulse, I drop a kiss onto his bald pate, which elicits a collective sigh from our audience. Startled, Father blinks at me. Father has never been one for public displays of affection, but he is visibly misty eyed as he says gruffly, "Now what did you go and do that for, Eries? You made me lose count of the music."
"My apologies, Father. That was brash of me," I say impishly. "But surely you could allow the bride a few liberties on her wedding day."
He stops completely, then and there on the ballroom floor. Music forgotten, he murmurs, "You know, it truly is a miracle that I can be with you today. I - I'd hoped that I'd be able to have this dance with each of you girls. But Marlene - I'm not even sure she would have danced with me even if she had had a proper wedding. And after my stroke, I didn't think I'd last long enough to see you or Millerna married." He glances at Dryden as he strides past with Lady Fassa. "Things didn't exactly turn out the way that I had hoped. But it's obvious that the two of you are taken with each other. I know that you're in good hands with him, and that Asturia is in good hands with the two of you at the helm."
"Thank you, Father." I am fortunate indeed to have this moment, something that neither of my sisters was able to experience. We draw closer, and our dance turns into more of a gently swaying embrace.
At the music's conclusion, it's a significantly more maudlin king that I help back to his seat. Embarrassed as he is by his own show of emotion, he shoos me away as soon as we reach his attendants and tells me to go to my next dance partner. I oblige immediately, not wanting to make things more awkward for my teary eyed father than they already are.
Dryden has already taken the oldest of his sisters onto the dance floor for a spin. And spin she does, turning and turning until she shouts at her older brother in protest. From the carefree way Dryden romps them across the ballroom, it's obvious to all that the Fassa siblings enjoy a warm, easy-going relationship. Watching them almost makes me wish I had an older brother to whirl me about so playfully.
But I don't have a brother. I do, however, have a nephew.
I glance meaningfully at Chid, sitting a few seats away from me, and he rises readily for his turn to dance with the bride. There's a mix of reactions as he takes my arm. Some find the sight of us adorable, especially since he is small for his age and looks younger than his nine years. However, others gape and murmur behind their hands at his foreignness.
On another occasion, he might wear Asturian clothes, but as the occasion is a state as well as a family affair, he wears Freidan royal raiment as befitting the head of his nation. But in addition to his non-Asturian garb, there's not a wisp of hair on his head.
Chid began training at the monasteries two years earlier and participates in all of their regimens, including shaving his head. A completely bald child in exotic clothes is not a sight you see every day in Asturia.
However, he ignores the chatter and is all poise as we take the dance floor.
"Do you know the minuet, Chid?" I whisper, as it suddenly occurs to me that his schedule at the monastery might not allow for training of this nature.
"A little. Kaja taught me what he knew on the flight here."
His movements are less than polished, but as he has the excuse of being a child, it only makes him more endearing to our audience. As he leads me through the basic steps, I muse that perhaps it is fortuitous is that his appearance is so foreign to those watching us. For, if he looked more Asturian, their attention might be more strongly drawn to his uncanny resemblance to a certain Knight Caeli.
"Is there something wrong, Auntie?" Chid inquires, and I realize that I've been staring intently at him.
I flash a reassuring smile. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking... when I used to look at you, I couldn't help but always see your parents in you. Now when I look at you, I see you."
Though Chid will never fully understand the meaning behind my statement, my words are completely truthful. The very first time I laid eyes on him, all I could think of was the secret sin that Allen and Marlene shared. His very existence is a testament to the temptation my sister gave in to.
But over the years, in the few letters that we have exchanged and the reports I've received from Freid, Chid has grown in my eyes to become so much more than just Marlene's love child and Allen's regret. He has had to forsake childhood for the needs of his country, but he has done so with unswerving dedication to his people and the land that is his inheritance. If I needed further reminders of the person he has become, I needn't look further than the flowing robes, the shorn head, the skin tanned by the southern sun, the accented speech that obscure his Asturian origins. He is not just my nephew, but sovereign of another land and one that I am proud to claim ties to.
Chid turns introspective at my reply. At first his contemplative response puzzles me, until I remember that much of Chid's short life has wrapped around my brother-in-law's expectations and legacy. I imagine that most of his efforts are fueled by a desire to become every bit the Duke that Mahad was. Anything less might be construed as a shortcoming.
My hunch is confirmed when Chid asks with a slight quaver in his voice, "Does that bother you?"
"Not in the least. It means you're growing into your own unique person. As you should." I smile at him. "It's good to be inspired by your parents and the others that have come before you, but it is an even better thing to achieve the things that only you can, things that your predecessors never thought possible."
He brightens at that, and his smile warms my heart.
Our minuet concludes, and Chid escorts me back. We haven't even reached the head table when Dryden charges past for the next number with his second oldest sister in tow. He'll be preoccupied for some time as he still has two sisters and an assortment of female cousins and aunts clamoring for a dance. Meanwhile, I've already exhausted all of my male relatives. I'm about to turn to ask Chid if he might be game for a second dance when Meiden appears at my elbow.
"May I have the pleasure of this dance?"
I blink in surprise before taking his proffered hand. "Why, of course."
In all the years that I have known Meiden, I have seen him making his rounds at many a festival and ball, but I have never actually seen the man dance. So it's a bit of a surprise to me when the old merchant leads me through the steps of a passepied with the confidence and precision of a seasoned dancer.
"Do you find something surprising?" Meiden asks, with a smug look on his face.
"Well, considering this is the first time I've actually seen you deign to step upon a dance floor, I'm impressed by your skill," I reply honestly.
"Well, if one's goal is to attain certain standing in the world, there are certain niceties one is required to learn and execute, even if one doesn't particularly relish them. That is a view we both hold in common. From what I've seen, dancing isn't a particularly favorite activity of yours, but when the occasion demands it, you can perform admirably. Which is more than I can say for my son," he says, eyeing Dryden and his sister galumphing about without any attention to the proper movements at the other end of the dance floor.
"I think that his exuberance makes an admirable impression in a different sort of way, Meiden. Or rather I should say Father." The word "Father" comes off my tongue awkwardly, given that the man I am addressing has been a thorn in my political side over the past several years.
It is equally awkward for Meiden on the receiving end. "I guess you could call me that now, considering you've married my son," he says slowly. "However, although I'm sure my wife will be thrilled for you to call her "Mother," I think I'd prefer you continue to call me Meiden. Besides, it'll make things that much less confusing at the Council when both your father and I are present at the same time, Eries."
"As you wish, Meiden." It's a little strange hearing him say my name sans title, but it's much better than if he had insisted upon calling me "Daughter" and being called "Father."
Having determined how to address one another, I honestly expect for us to lapse into silence. After all, it's not as if Meiden and I seek one another's company socially. The vast majority of our interactions take place because of the Council or Council related business, and our topics of conversation generally follow along those lines. I'm at a loss as to what to say to the man in this kind of setting.
However, Meiden is not quite as tongue-tied as he begins without hesitation, "Eries, I know that we haven't always gotten along, but I hope that you will take me seriously when I tell you that I look forward to becoming a grandfather and expect for you and Dryden to make this happen sooner than later."
"I beg your pardon?" I stammer, flabbergasted to hear such words coming out of Meiden's mouth.
"I know it might seem a bit rude and intrusive of me, but succession of the kingdom aside, I want to experience the joy of being a grandparent while I still have the physical and mental capabilities to fully -"
"Meiden, you're in fine shape. I would hardly say you're ready to fall into your deathbed."
"For now. But we've got to face facts. I'm not getting any younger. Neither is Grava. I mean, just think of your poor father, my girl. I know that modern couples these days delay starting their families so that they can extend the honeymoon, as it were. But I'm certain your father and I are of one mind when I say that it is of the greatest importance to us that you and Dryden work on giving us that grandchild soon."
This is getting embarrassing. "Meiden, I -"
"You probably have concerns of losing time in the Council once you become a mother. But producing an heir is as much a duty as your Council responsibilities. And even should motherhood prevent you from participating as actively, you would still retain an influence on matters through Dryden. And perhaps you think that having children would cause you to lose standing among those of the Council, but I would argue that it should do the opposite -"
So it is that I am held captive for Meiden's exhortative speech for the speedy production of children as Dryden completes his dances with his sisters. As we dance past one another, he casts me sympathetic glances in response to my "help me" looks. Fortunately, the torment is limited to three dances. Dryden finishes dancing with his youngest sister, and the obligatory family dances conclude. The floor then opens for anyone who wants to dance, and rescue comes in the form of Lady Fassa and Alucier.
"Princess, would you allow an old guardian the pleasure of a dance with you?"
"Meiden, will you stop hogging our new daughter all to yourself and dance with your own wife for once?"
I'm more than happy to let them cut in, and Alucier quickly whisks me far and away from my new father-in-law. "Thank you, Alucier," I say gratefully.
"What's a princess' personal guard for if not keeping nuisances away?" He glances around to make sure that Meiden is well out of earshot and adds a low tone, "Even if it is her own father-in-law."
As flippantly as he says it, his job description is not too far off the mark. The original reason he was assigned to me years ago was to keep me as far and away from Allen Schezar as possible. However, he approached his assignment with more the attitude of a concerned older brother than an indifferent chaperone. He had the experience of six sisters after all. So while he did well to keep a careful eye on my movements with the object of my infatuation, he wasn't so strict as to cut off our interactions entirely. Absolute freedom was never a possibility under his watch, but he allowed me enough leeway to make my own decisions and my own mistakes. And for that, he earned my respect, trust, and friendship.
"What was he haranguing you about anyway?" he mutters. "It was pretty obvious to me and Sita that the conversation you were having was borderline painful."
I tell him. He laughs. "Well, that's what you get for marrying into that family. Get used to it."
"I see I'll get no sympathy from you on that matter."
"Did I not just come and rescue you from the dance of excruciation?"
"My apologies. I am so indebted to your service that we will name our firstborn after you. Even if it's a girl."
"Ha, the thing that you don't realize is that your new husband is sufficiently weird enough to think that Alucier would be a good name for a girl."
"Are you calling my husband and your one day to be king weird?"
"I call them as I see them, Eries. But he does also, so we're even there."
"So you approve of my new mate?"
"That's not my place as a lowly knight to say, Princess. Besides, you're already married so the point is moot."
Although the rush of wedding preparations prevented me from broaching this sooner, I've suspected that Alucier was somewhat hurt by the fact that he didn't find out about my involvement with Dryden until the two of us were announcing our engagement. From the tone he uses to respond, my suspicions are pretty much confirmed.
I suppose that I could blame it on the fact that Alucier was away in another country the entire time everything unfolded. However, that excuse seems somewhat hollow. Odd as it may be for a teenage girl to have a much older man as a confidant, Alucier played that role in my life for years. He knew every single detail of my wretched love life, was my sounding board when things got particularly messy, and never betrayed a single secret. Much as he complained about having to deal with the angst, I knew that he was honored that I entrusted him with so much.
And then, while he was away, I fell in love and pledged my love to someone without his even knowing.
I stare down at our feet. "Alucier... I want you to know, I didn't want you to find out about me and Dryden the way you did. It's not like I wanted to keep you in the dark. I wanted to tell you when I told Allen and Celena. But..."
"I know, Eries. I know." He sighs. "You don't have to explain. That was just me being irritated knowing that Celena knew everything before I knew anything. But it's not like you're beholden to getting my approval before you pick someone to spend the rest of your life with. Even if I think of you as a little sister and part of me feels entitled to having some say in the matter, I'm not.
"Alucier, you're more than just my guard -"
"- and you're more than just my charge, yes, I know that. But I also know that you're a princess, and your life is a lot more complicated than a Dunhaven farm girl's. Don't beat yourself up over it. I'll get over it. Trust me. I've had enough of secret agendas and guilty looking princesses to last me for the rest of my life.
"But just so you know, if I had thought you were making a mistake with this marriage, I would have told you so before the wedding. In fact, I nearly did."
My head jerks up. "You thought I was making a mistake marrying Dryden?"
He nods. "On the surface, it just seemed as if you were getting the shaft, and your sister was getting off scot free. That might sound kind of weird to say about a convent, but you haven't heard all the harebrained schemes Millerna was plotting when she didn't realize I was listening in Chezario. But..."
"But?"
"But, I know how stubborn you are and how many marriage offers you've dodged. In fact, I remember the first time you deflected Dryden as a potential candidate way back when. It seemed strange for you to crumple so conveniently for your sister. And when you told me how everything was just for show and how you and Dryden really did want to be married, I squelched my initial reaction to question your honesty and, quite frankly, your sanity and just watched."
"And?"
"And to make a long story short, I decided that what you claimed was true. It helped that Celena filled me in on a lot of what I missed, but I could see it for myself as well. That no matter what the arrangement looks like on the surface, the two of you are serious about each other. Judging from some of the glaring contests I've seen between him and Allen, he's very serious about you. He's got baggage. That's for certain. Who wouldn't after the first marriage he had? But he's nowhere as bad as Allen in terms of how he's handling it. And it's not as if you don't have your own issues."
"Thanks a lot, Alucier," I grumble.
"Hey, I'm just being honest here. And I'm being honest also when I say I'm glad things have ended as well as they have, and I think the two of you will have a great life together."
Alucier's right. He's just a guard, and I don't need his approval. But that doesn't mean that I don't desire it. I squeeze his hand. "Thanks, Alucier. That means a lot to me."
"You're welcome. Just promise me one thing, Eries."
"Anything."
"Swear to me that when you have teenage children of your own not to saddle me with babysitting duty. Going through the angst of adolescence gets old after the third time."
I can't resist the urge to tease him. "But you're so good at it."
He responds with an overly aggrieved look. I laugh and say, "I'm just kidding, Alucier. Besides, with any luck, you'll be appointed to Head of the Caeli by then, and you won't have time for those kinds of pursuits."
"Now you're talking."
"Unless you've managed to marry into the Egzardian royal family before that."
"Not that again. How many times do I have to tell you that Sita and I are just friends..."
Our dance concludes just as we come alongside a squabbling pair. Somehow, it doesn't surprise me to see that the duo is Celena and Revius. From the sound of it, Celena has recovered sufficiently from her drinking binge to be vehemently offended by some unfavorable comparison her dance partner is making between her and her new idol Sita. I sigh, tilting my head in their direction. "I think we need to separate those two before they start a ballroom brawl."
Alucier gives me a dour look. "What did I say about babysitting duty?"
"You're not Head of the Order yet, Alucier. Besides, you won't be the only one subjected to attitude in the name of tranquility."
Alucier knows better than to defy a direct order. He deftly cuts in between the quarrelers. With a "You. Me. Dance. Now," I haul Revius in the direction opposite Alucier and his new partner.
"Smooth, real smooth, Princess," remarks Revius as Alucier dances off with Celena, still glaring daggers at Revius.
"Well, someone has to keep the peace around here. Though one would think you'd be capable of more than infantile provocation given your supposed age and rank."
"Humph. And here I was thinking you were pining for a dance with dashing me to reminisce upon your now gone unwed days as a tender, unfettered, unmarried maiden."
"As if."
He affects a long-suffering sigh. "So cruel you are, my Princess. But then again, even when you were available, you weren't."
Revius has never been privy to my thoughts and actions the way Alucier has. However, for all of his careless manner, he is quite perceptive. I can't imagine either Alucier or Allen sharing the sordid details of my family with him, but he seems all too aware of those secrets in the offhand observations he occasionally drops about me, my sisters, and a certain blonde knight.
But while he has used his knowledge as ammunition to irk me, he has never dropped a word maliciously. Not the morning that he walked into my room to find a very embarrassed Allen scandalously present. Not the time I played a role making good Allen's escape from the palace prison.
"Revius, you're a really good guy."
"My statement takes Revius aback, especially because it immediately follows a lewd observation Revius makes about the physical attributes of an especially well endowed noblewoman nearby.
However, Revius quickly recovers from my non sequitur complement and says, "Oh, so you just realized now what a wonderful person I am? I'm wounded, Princess."
"Well, you have to admit your particular brand of chivalry is rather... unorthodox."
"But it doesn't mean my pursuits aren't any less noble."
"Ri-i-i-ight."
Good old Revius. Rogue and wiseacre. Not exactly what you'd call reliable, but he's discreet. Mostly. And when the chips are down, he'll be there for you.
As soon as I conclude my dance with Revius, Seclas steps forward for a turn, and then he is followed by another one of his brethren in the blue and gold. Apparently, having begun the general dancing with two of the Heavenly Knights has given the rest of them the impression that I desire to dance with all of their number. That suits me just fine, as I am more familiar with them than I am with most of the noblemen here. Besides, Dryden is still dancing through his roster of female relatives. By the time I reach my eighth Caeli, I wonder if I am setting precedent for a new wedding tradition to be borne by the next Crown Princess.
And so I go, from the arms of one Heavenly Knight to the next until my eleventh Caeli, Sir Fortanen, is taking his leave, and the twelfth Caeli steps forward, holding out his hand.
"Congratulations on your wedding, Princess Eries," says Allen. Taking my hand, he bows and presses it to his lips, a gesture that sends more than half the women in the ballroom swooning.
I murmur my appreciation to his sentiments as he straightens, and with that, we begin our dance with a flourish.
Allen and I have danced so many times together, it's almost second nature. My steps match his automatically. I follow his lead without effort or hesitation. Dancing with together, our movements fall into long established, familiar patterns.
But this time, it is different.
We glide across the ballroom floor without exchanging a single word. It's not the first time we've danced without speaking; but it is the first time I've experienced such peace in the silence. When I was much younger, these were the moments where I agonized between revealing my feelings for him and maintaining the comfortable distance of friendship. As we grew older and our histories became more complex, other emotions crept in: jealousy, frustration, bitterness, regret. My heart filled to bursting with words, confessions, admonishments - all at the tip of my tongue, but I could never voice them out loud.
But now everything that could or needed to be said has already been said, and there's nothing left to say.
I gaze into Allen's eyes, pieces of brilliant azure sky that I once lost myself in. However, the resentment and desire they once evoked no longer consumes me. And without the old tumult clawing my soul, I now see Allen, who was once so oblivious to my internal conflict, is struggling with his emotions for me.
He's doing his best to accept what is happening in my life, but a trace of that abandoned look remains. In the days after that conversation at his estate, Allen continued to interact with me as he ever did, but I did notice that he went out of his way to keep a wide berth if Dryden was around. As Alucier alluded earlier, things haven't completely settled between him and Dryden.
I feel for him. I truly do. But I cannot shape my life to cater to his needs. Not anymore. Because Allen is forever looking back, and with a perspective like that, it is impossible for me, or anyone else for that matter, to build a future with him.
The music comes to a close. Allen guides me to the edge of the ballroom where our dance ends. Bowing again, he takes my hand for a final kiss, but as he straightens, he doesn't release his hold. Gazing at me intently, he continues holding my hand as if letting go would cause me to disappear from sight completely.
"May I cut in?" Suddenly, Dryden's hands are my shoulders, and he's drawing me back against him. "I'd like to have a dance with my wife."
If anything was going to break Allen out of his reverie, that did it. Abruptly releasing me, he snaps to attention before Dryden. Congratulations are immediately offered, which Dryden accepts in clipped tones. The conversation is civil enough between the old rivals, but there's a distinct tension in the atmosphere, especially given the territorial way Dryden hovers over me.
At length, Allen breaks off glaring at my new husband to look down at me again. His expression softening, he murmurs, "Make her happy or I won't forgive you."
"I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't make her happy," replies Dryden evenly.
Dryden's response somehow satisfies Allen. Another bow and he takes his leave. As Allen disappears into the crowd, Dryden hugs me to his chest. "I hope you didn't think find that exchange overly barbaric."
I turn around in his arms to gaze up at him. I'm ready to berate him for acting so childishly when I've assured him over and over that there's nothing left of my old infatuation for Allen. But when I see the uncertainty in his eyes, I am reminded of how Allen has affected both Dryden's relationship with Millerna and with me and realize what seeing us together might do to his confidence. "Well, it wasn't the warmest conversation, but it was an improvement over punching one another in the face. So it's a step in the right direction. Especially since I like your face."
He touches the tip of his nose to mine. "Enough to dance with me?"
"Most definitely." And with that, Dryden gathers me into his arms and sweeps me onto the dance floor.
"So," says Dryden, drawing me closer than our waltz warrants, "have you had a dance with everyone you want or are required to?"
"I suppose, yes. Why?"
"Well, that being the case, I suggest the two of us beat a hasty retreat to indulge in more pleasurable activities." He emphasizes his words by moving his body suggestively against me.
"Dryden!" I scold in a shocked whisper. "Stop that!" My eyes start about frantically, but Dryden's scandalous behavior is apparent to no one but me.
"I'm afraid I can't stop," he whispers, nibbling on an earlobe. "Because you've already got me started."
Doing my best to ignore the shivers of pleasure the sensation sends down my spine, I hiss, "You realize that we'll be walking out in the middle of our own wedding party." Standard departure time for the bride and groom in Asturian high-class wedding banquets is midnight, and it's only ten o'clock.
"And since when has being the party celebrant stopped you from sneaking out?"
He has a point there. As I allow myself to be swayed by his proposition, he adds, "It's not as if we'll be offending hordes of international dignitaries. The only foreigners here are your nephew, who's probably ready for bed himself, and Princess Marquesita who, from what I gather, would probably tell us to hurry up and get on with it already. Everyone else is just the usual riffraff whom we usually try to avoid."
Suddenly, leaving the party seems the most obvious course of action.
When I don't respond right away, he mistakes my musings for indecision and says, "If it would make you feel better about it, we could just run out for a spell and then return to bid farewell to our guests."
"Oh, I don't think that will be possible, Dryden," I purr into his ear. "Once I get alone with you, you're not going to want to come back to this party."
In response, Dryden practically crushes me to his body. "That does it. We're leaving," he growls, his voice husky with impatience and need.
I laugh, giddy by his eagerness. "All right then. But it'll be a lot less conspicuous if we leave separately instead of together. I should be able to slip out of here within 10 minutes. Once you're sure I'm gone, find Hariotte and Celena and have them help you fake a wardrobe malfunction or something."
"Oh my. My poor sister will love that."
"So, I'll see you in our room in about 20 minutes?" I say, my own excitement mounting.
"Actually... could we meet in your old room?"
I blink. "If you like. Why?"
"Celena hinted to me that there was something hidden in your closet that I absolutely could not miss..."
Celena... what was that girl thinking?
When I realized Celena's gift for what it was, my first impulse was to toss it into the fireplace. The only thing that had stilled my hand was that the book, its embarrassing content notwithstanding, was indeed a bookbinding masterpiece. Destroying a tome of that quality bordered on sacrilegious for a bibliophile as myself, and I had decided to relegate it to the depths of my closet until I could think of a way to rid myself of it.
However, now, as heat rises in my body in response to Dryden's smoldering gaze, I think that perhaps maybe it's not such a bad idea to have a reference handy as we embark upon the mysteries of love on our wedding night.
But I won't give my friends the satisfaction of knowing so.
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Thanks to everyone for reading this story! It took me a little bit longer than I anticipated to finish off the story. I didn't plan on it, but almost all the characters ended up having a final appearance in "Beginnings." It ended up feeling very much like the closing credits of the final episode of Escaflowne where everyone watches Hitomi going back home. (Apparently this is a very Japanese sort of thing to do, judging from the few prime time Japanese shows I've managed to see.)
And I know I've said this over and over and over, but I am really grateful to Aerika for the inspiration her works have given me and for this opportunity to do a little something with the amazing characters and Escaverse that she has created. Hope that the father daughter wedding dance and the subsequent dances with the rest of Eries' men that you requested were to your liking.
And special thanks to everyone that left a review - you don't know how much those mean to me!