Till Death Do Us Part

The day of the wedding arrives quickly, and it begins with a flurry of motion. Lenore is given a minimal breakfast to eat, but she's too nervous to have an appetite. No, she's more likely to throw up anything she tries to eat, so she settles for some juice that her maids thoughtfully brought her instead.

Mary brushes her hair until it's smooth as silk, and then brushes it some more. Her skilled hands braid and twist her hair into an elegant design pinned atop her head and held together with pearl netting. As she works, younger maids are assigned to simpler tasks, like cleaning and cutting Lenore's nails, rubbing fragrant oils into her skin so the scent lingers, and making sure every part of her exudes the kind of perfection expected from a duchess.

Eva has the job of organizing Lenore's clothes and accessories, laying everything out so that she can be dressed without a single thread out of place.

They all work so well together that Lenore doesn't need to do anything other than be pliable to their ministrations, yet she already feels the exhaustion of the day wearing on her before it truly starts. Is getting ready for an event always this tiring? She doesn't remember Alina looking tired when she was preparing to attend balls, banquets, and other formal events in high society. No, she always looked excited, like she was vibrating with energy at the idea of going to an event.

Perhaps weddings are an exception. Or Lenore is simply not cut out for social life the way Alina is.

She watches her transformation in the mirrors around the room. Her hair and makeup add color and elegance to her face, but maintain a welcoming softness. Yet the adornments in her hair and her earrings alone must cost more than every piece of jewelry she's worn to this point. She can only hope that the duke hasn't spent money on her and simply gave her items from a former wife, as she has no idea how she'd be able to make up for that level of expenses.

Moving from her top down, the maids help her into a gown made of layered silk and lace. It's heavier than she's used to, but she feels like a winter spirit when she looks in the mirror and sees how the lace patterns decorate her arms and neck, then how the skirt is perfectly balanced between being wide and sleek. There's enough space to walk comfortably, but not enough that the size of the skirt becomes an issue, forcing her to be mindful of her motions.

The final touches are a silver necklace inlaid with sapphires that bring out the steel blue of her eyes, shoes with heels low enough that she's not afraid she'll trip, and a veil is pinned to her hair and draped over her face to hide her features behind layer upon layer of thin white cloth. It becomes difficult to see with the veil on, so Eva and Mary each take one of her hands and start leading her to the grand hall.

Another maid she doesn't remember the name of from the flurry of morning introductions has her bouquet, and the other junior maids flutter around her, excited on her behalf, as they walk and gushing over what a beautiful bride she's turned into over the course of a single morning.

Too soon, Lenore stands in front of the imposing double doors to the grand hall, their dark wood worn with age, but well-kept. Even if she wanted to, she has no choice but to walk down the aisle when those doors open and finish the ceremony she was sent here to perform.

With a deep breath, Lenore watches the doors open and hears music from within. The bouquet is placed in her hands, Eva signals that it's time, and Lenore starts her solitary walk down an aisle that feels impossibly long.

She takes one step after another, slow and calculated. The music is drowned out by the sound of her own heartbeat filling her ears. Both sides of the aisle are filled with wooden benches, but the number of attendees—from what she can tell with her limited vision—is rather small. Well, Alaric did warn her that there would be vassal families and not many others here. She doesn't know why he wants to keep the guest list small and the wedding simple, but she's grateful for it.

At the altar, Alaric offers his hand and helps her up the steps. It's a small gesture—likely done for show so the vassals see that she's not being completely ignored by their lord—but it's more kindness than she's used to receiving from nobles.

The officiant doesn't waste time. He dives straight into the purpose of the wedding, then to the vows and exchanging rings. They're simple, nothing more than a promise to fulfill their duties as a husband and wife for the sake of unity in the empire. But when Alaric is told to lift Lenore's veil to seal their vows with a kiss, she notices something strange.

Her vision clears—Alaric freezes for a moment, his hands holding her veil, but not moving it back to completely free her face. She sees a spark of life in his dark eyes. A touch of surprise. Then, shadows take over and he's back in motion. Her veil is removed, and Alaric pulls her in for a quick kiss, his lips meeting hers only long enough to seal their vow before he pulls away.

There's no reaction from the attendees, but the officiant declares the wedding complete, so Alaric and Lenore walk down the aisle with their arms intertwined. At the doors of the grand hall, they part ways. Weddings in the capitol often include banquets and social gatherings to celebrate the couples, but Lenore already knew that there'd be nothing of the sort today. Not for an unwanted wedding in a cursed land. The vassals will return to the safety of their own estates, far enough away where their land isn't as affected by the blight of Barrowmere. Meanwhile, the Imperial representative will make his way to the emperor, confirming that his order for marriage has been completed.

As for Lenore, she's helped out of her wedding gown and treated to a warm meal that she can eat in peace without as much anxiety looming over her. But as she twists her simple wedding ring around her fingers, she can't shake off the memory of Alaric's face when he lifted her veil.

He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

But surely, he expected to see Lenore at the altar. No one else.

The day passes into evening, then night. Lenore finds herself kept awake by the questions of what she does now that her role is complete and why Alaric looked haunted during their wedding.

But the thought that they won't have many reasons to interact with each other from this point leaves a small pain in her chest. It's a contract marriage, but she doesn't want to be alone in a massive manor again. She doesn't want Barrowmere to become a new version of Rowanhart.

Then, a new wish forms in the depths of her heart.

She wants to feel the electrifying tingles on her lips from kissing Alaric again.