Warnings: Don't get into cars with scary men. Or carriages, as the case may be.
Chapter Four: And So It Goes
The week flew by in a whirl of colors, fabrics, decorations and dresses. Ulga and I were barely civil to each other, which made the long hours even more unbearable. I had no one but Nero to confide in, and he couldn't talk back.
The days were silent, except for the bland, unemotional directions that the seamstresses would give me as they fitted me for my dresses. The costume for Phaedrus was elaborate, and I hated it. My only consolation was to know that somewhere, Ser Gerand al Monteville was going through a similar process.
I was not the only one suffering.
Finally, the great day arrived; the engagement party was that night, and I was more terrified than I had ever been in my entire life. Not only was it my engagement banquet, but it was also my public debut. My mind brimmed with all the possibilities of things going wrong. I could fall, trip, spill food on myself or rip my dress. I could forget a line, or dance too long with the wrong man. I might slight Ser Gerand somehow, and he would spurn me then and there. There were thousands of ways that I could ruin the night, and I was infinitely glad that I could only think of several at a time.
'Kelryian, suck it in a little, will you?" Ulga tugged on the strings of the corset, yanking them as tight as possible.
Since I already couldn't breathe, I deliberately pushed out my stomach further. The laces dug into my back and the whalebone into my ribs, but I didn't care overly much; as long as it got no tighter, I would be fine.
"Damned brat," Ulga mumbled.
I rolled my eyes in a silent response. If she wasn't going to be nice to be, I would do the same for her. I wiggled around on the pedestal I was standing on, shaking it slightly and making it exceedingly difficult for Ulga to catch the hooks in the eyes on the back of the bodice.
"Stop moving, you worthless wretch." She spat the words through gritted teeth, angrily shoving them forth with the tip of her tongue.
Indignantly, I spun around. "I am not the worthless one here," I sneered. "At least I am married, instead of remaining a spinster my entire life." I turned again, folding my arms across my chest with a self-righteous sigh. "Some servants just don't know their place." Conveniently, I forgot that Ulga, too, had once been a lady of the court, just as I was.
"At least I," she murmured softly, "Did not marry a man I did not love." Nonchalantly, she returned to dressing me.
I stood still as stone, my entire world frozen around me. I had been so caught up in my superiority that I had somehow managed to forget about Daryan and how much I despised Gerand. By the time the first tear had dropped from my eye, I had flung myself full length on the bed and buried my face in my quilt.
"Oh." Ulga made a surprised little noise, and then she was at my side, rubbing my back and trying to comfort me.
It was as simple as that, and Ulga and I were friends once more. Or perhaps it was more like mother and daughter, but I didn't care enough to make the distinction. I was just happy to have my strongest ally at my back once more.
I stepped into the ballroom on the arm of Ser Gerand al Monteville, trembling despite an impassive face. I was terrified by all the people watching me, all the pale, vapid faces staring up at me,
"Smile, Kelryian." Gerand gave my arm a little lift with his, encouraging me to look cheerful. "You're not being executed, girl, so don't look so much like it."
My gaze flicked over to his face and then back to the sea of guests again. The expression I'd thought so neutral wasn't, apparently.
"Thank you," I murmured to him, trying desperately to bring a smile to my lips. It was hard enough for me to breathe, let alone concentrate on such an inane thing as a smile.
But somehow, it helped.
Together, Gerand and I descended the steps of a platform which would soon be our stage onto the elaborate marble floor where we would soon share our first dance.
Once more, I began to panic.
My first dance in public, which was supposed to be with some distant cousin or someone such as that, would be with my future husband, and I would have to see him every day for the rest of my married life. If I did something wrong, I would be reminded of it every time I looked at him.
My lips began to move in a silent litany of religious quotations, memorized when I was younger, but largely forgotten until now. "Oh God, forgive me, for I know not what I do," I mumbled. "I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…" It went on, verse after verse, chapter after chapter, until Gerand silenced me with another of his subtle arm movements. I glanced at him inquisitively.
"Not so loud," he hissed. "People can hear you."
I frowned slightly in consternation. So what if they heard me? It wasn't a crime to be religious, especially when one was going to be married by the Church.
"And don't frown."
"Picky, picky," I mumbled, too softly for him to hear. With a sudden burst of cynicism, I realized that all of my movements, feelings, and expressions would be dictated by this man. "Excellent."
"Hush your mumblings."
And there he went again. I sighed, and immediately expected a reprimand for that as well. When one did not come, I was almost disappointed.
Almost, but not quite.
"Maestro!" Ser Gerand nodded towards a man in a black and silver spangled suit. The man bowed in return, and then turned to face his orchestra. As the music began to fill the great hall of our manse, the first moments of my new life began.
I found that my fiancé was not a bad dancer for a man of his age; not only was he light on his feet, but he did not push me to where I ought to go, only guided me gently. My grip on his arms relaxed and the trembling of my hands ceased. My breaths still came in short, fast gulps, but that was due more to the tempo of the song than fright. My gaze locked with his and we soared across the floor, graceful and powerful at the same time. Every spin was perfectly executed, every lift secure. In exquisite harmony, we ended the patterned dance with one, short moment of completely motionless silence.
Then, sinking slowly to my knees as protocol demanded of me, I knelt before Gerand al Monteville and bowed my head in submission. "If you will have me," I intoned, my voice breathy at first, "Then I will consent to be first your fiancé, and then, your wife. Please, accept my supplication, and I will be as your beloved from this moment on. Will you lift me up so I may do these things?"
I detested this ritual, but Gerand, per usual, showed no inclination towards any emotion. "I will have you," he said, and his words crawled across my flesh, raising the hairs along my arms. "I will take you as my fiancé and as my wife, and you will be as my beloved from this moment on." His hands enfolded mine tightly, and I gasped as the bones of my fingers rubbed together. "Rise, now, and fulfill your promises."
Slowly, I rose, watching him warily all the while. In such a short span of time he had gone from a man whom I could almost trust, to one who terrified me more than anyone else I knew.
With the rite done, the silence of the assemblage was broken. Polite applause accompanied the conclusion of the rite, and soon the hall was filled with dancers as the music started up once more. I caught sight of my mother and father sharing the first dance with one another, and I had difficulty telling whether or not they enjoyed it. Before I could spot any of the other guests that I knew personally, Ser Gerand al Monteville pulled me close to him and began to dance.
I followed numbly, repulsed by our proximity, yet also delighting in the ease with which we danced. "Kelryian," he muttered to me, "What did I tell you about smiling?"
"I will try, my lord." I avoided his gaze at all costs this time, fearing that the savagery which had colored his speaking would be there in his eyes as well. I curved my lips upwards in a sad mockery of a grin. It looked more like a grimace, I'm sure, but it seemed to satisfy Ser Gerand, for he said no more.
When that dance was over, and a new one was taking wing, my fiancé left my side with no hesitation. I stood, stupidly, in the middle of the dancers, not knowing what to do.
"Sera Kelryian, if you do not care to dance, will you at least remove yourself from the floor and walk with me awhile?" A man spoke softly into my ear, his voice low and gentle.
"Yes, I suppose so." I smiled vaguely at him, not really taking note of who he was. "Thank you." He took my hand in his and tugged, leading me like a cow away from the others.
"Sera, your debut has been a success thus far, I believe." He had nice gloves, I noticed. They were black, with black embroidery for decoration. I smiled slightly.
"Mhm, I suppose it has gone well." We had reached one of the many porticos that lined the walls.
"Shall we go outside?"
"That would be nice." It was nice to get away from the ball.
He said, "It's a lovely evening, don't you think?"
"Yes, I suppose so," I answered blandly, not truly paying attention to what he was saying. My thoughts had long turned inward, to the bleak possibilities that my life now held.
"Do you like Ser Gerand?" My new friend was a conscientious man, at least.
"I suppose."
He chuckled. "You don't know?"
"No," I answered, distracted once more by my own thoughts.
"Do you like orange mice?" His tone remained ever polite, ever chivalrous.
"Mm, yes, I suppose I do. Do you?"
"Yes, I do, you know. I like to eat them with pickled children. Have you ever tried that dish? I hear it's quite a delicacy in the Sudetenland." So immersed was I in my own morbid, inner musings that I completely missed the delicious irony in his words.
"Yes, I believe I've had that. I suppose it was good." I nodded thoughtfully, as if I was contemplating his every word.
"Do you suppose that you might look at me?" His hand brushed my chin lightly, and it startled me.
"Who are you?" I felt tears prick my eyes. What had I been saying to this man?
"I," he began with a flourishing bow, "Am Ser Thomhas dy Cattalo." He finished with a delicate kiss to the back of my hand. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lovely, distracted, distracting Sera."
I felt the blush suffuse my cheeks, and I was absolutely mortified by knowing that Ser Thomhas could see it as well. "Thank you, good Ser dy Cattalo, for your most enchanting compliments." My lips began to twist upwards of their own volition. "You seemed to have saved me from making a further fool of myself, and for that I thank you."
He grinned unabashedly in response, his dark eyes dancing with delight. "My dear Sera, I would do anything for you. You are the lady of the night."
The mention of the night's celebrations had a sobering effect on me. "I would that you could do anything for me, but I know that you cannot. Besides, it would be inappropriate of me to say."
He was instantly by my side. "Does something not please you? Does my presence offend?"
I smiled again, but it was wan and half-hearted. "No, it isn't you, Ser Thomhas."
"Sweet Sera Kelryian, please, do not be melancholy. I will do everything in my power to bring a smile back to your lips." Thomhas's face was so eagerly earnest that I couldn't help my laugh.
"You have done it, Ser dy Cattalo; see it! I laugh." I was as amused by his expression as I was by the ridiculously high-mannered words we were using. "Congratulations to you. If we had been playing a game of forfeits, you would have won something for that."
Thomhas smiled at that. "If it were, I know exactly what I would take from you. I would take it now, but I'm afraid your fiancé would object," he added brashly.
"Ser Thomhas!" I giggled in half-scandalized delight. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Ah! A challenge from the good Sera!" He laughed lightly. "Shall I answer it?" Caught suddenly in a moment of decision, I hesitated. He must have taken my silence and nonplussed expression for consent, because in that moment, he leaned down and placed a kiss softly on my lips. "I believe I shall answer," he murmured softly, drawing back only slightly from me.
I was stunned, unable to say anything at all. I couldn't move to push him away, as both my responsibility to my fiancé and to Daryan demanded, or draw him near again, as my passionate impulses urged me to do.
In the end, neither of us spoke, but he moved towards me again, cupping my face with hands covered in supple black leather.
Author's Note: Well, that was quite an ending. The vast majority of this was written this afternoon, too. I'm kind of proud of that. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I do! I will try not to take so long with the next chapter…but who knows. Maybe I'll have more time now that AP Testing is out of the way. Hopefully!
Well, please review, I really appreciate it. It was minor this time who reminded me to update, so thank minor for this chapter! I know I certainly do...! Thanks muchly. )
Love to all!
