He found her sitting in the nave, dressed belled out around her like she'd fallen into a puddle of satin and Chantilly lace. Her eyes were cast towards the dome, flowers resting against her knees.
He took a seat in the pew next to her, crossing his legs and leaning back.
"I figured I'd find you here," he said, without looking at her. She smiled and laughed a little.
"I figured you'd look for me," she replied, turning to look at him. Her makeup was perfect, comforting him that she hadn't been crying. "Is he mad?"
"No, I don't think so," Arthur said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "He's still waiting."
"Still? It's been two hours."
"Did you think he wouldn't?" Arthur asked, cocking his head to the side. Ariadne thought for a minute, before shaking her head no.
"No, I knew he would wait."
"Your guests are starting to leave though. Your mother thinks you're not coming."
"Thanks Mom," she groaned, picking at the ribbon wrapped around her bouquet. "She's right."
Arthur raised his eyebrows and stared out the stained glass window. "Why don't you want to get married?"
"I do," she shrugged. "I just don't want to get married in front of the Crown Princess of Sweden."
"I think it's kind of cool."
"I've never met her."
"I'm sure Robert hasn't either," Arthur smiled, flicking his arm out and checking his watch. "But you're marrying into high society, you shouldn't expect any less."
"What would you do, Arthur? If you were me, I mean."
"I wouldn't sit on the floor in a ten thousand dollar dress, that's for sure," he said, shifting uncomfortably in the pew. Churches made him nervous, always had, especially since the Klaus job when Nash had tripped over the altar table and almost gotten them all killed. Twice.
"Something tells me your Edwardian sensibilities wouldn't have allowed you a ten thousand dollar dress," Ariadne replied dryly. Arthur agreed with a slow nod. "There's five hundred people in there and I know about thirty of them."
"Is this stage fright?" he asked, narrowing his eyebrows. The little time he had spent with her over the last three years led him to believe it was anything but. She could create on a whim and perform with mastery. She confirmed his beliefs, quirking her head to the side.
"Hardly. It just feels impersonal."
Neither one of them said anything for a few minutes, the silence finally punctuated by the crack of the door opening in the back. The click of dress shoes on the tile told Ariadne that it was her fiancé walking towards her.
Arthur squeezed Ariadne's shoulder and shoved out of the pew, pausing to shake Robert's hand before exiting as he'd come.
Robert took a knee next to his bride and smiled softly. Ariadne returned his smile, wrinkling her nose.
"I'm sorry," she said. He shook his head and extended a hand for her. "Where are we going?"
"To get married," he replied, lacing their fingers together.
"Robert, I-"
"I know. We don't have to get married here. Claude will take us to the courthouse if you want."
Ariadne stood, smoothing her dress and sighing. "I messed this up, didn't I?"
"You look beautiful," Robert said, kissing her cheek. "And no, you didn't mess anything up. We can just as easily put this off for a year or two or ten if you want. But whatever you decide to do, we should leave soon, it's starting to snow."
Robert held out his arm, laying his hand over Ariadne's after she looped her arm through his. Smiling, they took their walk down the aisle.