Time passed, day after day of instruction went by in that buried cloister beneath the palace, far from the Creator's beneficent light.
The date of the royal wedding came due so rapidly. I'll admit that it took me by surprise, so lost was I in the excitement of being teacher to one so brilliant.
The Chancellor had arranged for a small army of attendants to accompany me down to the Duke's cell for the occasion. Among them was a tailor was brought into his cell, and the Duke could leave the smock and trousers behind for a waistcoat, tie and shoes with silver buckles. That waistcoat was made of a cream-colored brocade, and his breeches matched his coat. It was a far cry from the royal vestments that I thought was his due, but they were an improvement nonetheless from the filthy rags.
With the tailor came also a barber who cleaned and trimmed the Duke's unruly hair and unkempt beard. For untold years, he had let it grow into a tangled mess. When he was through, the Duke looked in the mirror as though for the first time. I suggested that that he retain a mustache rather then go to the wedding entirely clean-shaven.
"Who will my brother be marrying?" the Duke asked me as he stared at himself in a mirror. "Who is the woman that will to be his queen?"
I paused then, thinking to myself that I myself did not know. Why had that one important fact escaped me? I only could attribute the exhilaration of having taught so bright a pupil as the cause for the omission. Today, she was to be my matriarch after all, to the Duke she would be both sister-in-law and superior. With embrassed haste, I checked the copy of the engraved wedding invitation and read off the name that was written there.
"The Lady Janina." The name sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps I had heard it during my formative years at the Academy. She wasn't from any of the major noble families, at least none of those that I had any prior knowledge of.
He paused, eyes opening in slight disbelief. "She will be there?"
"Yes," I replied. "She is known to you?"
"I think that I met her once," the Duke paused, and then he gave a whisper. "And I think that she was... she was frightened of me."
"She reacted poorly to something that you did?" I asked.
He nodded, swallowing, his eyes staring off in memory.
"And you felt regret?"
"If I hadn't already regretted it," the Duke answer. "It was my brother who certainly made me regret."
He said no more of this. Together we left that dreary old cell after the Chancellor set the key in the lock.
Upstairs, the Duke saw the hallways of the palace for the first time in countless years, and the two of us stood in silence at the light illuminating those vast echoing halls for long minutes before he spoke. He reached out and ran his fingers along a white, fluted support column, as though savoring the tiny imperfection in its surface.
"I remember this place…I used to…" He paused as though struggling to find the words. "The light is so bright here, it almost pains my eyes. But that's caused by the colors: silver and white reflect the light rays. Darker surface absorb them."
"It must be so long since you've been outside." I said. "I imagine that it will take some getting used to."
"Yes," he told me. "Even the air feels strange. Less still. More alive."
Before he had time to savor his new freedom, the two of us were ushered from the cavernous entry hall to the waiting carriage. Together, we rode down the downward sloping path into the Capital, and the central cathedral where the wedding was held.
During the entire journey he stared out the window, those eyes seemingly recording everything that he saw. He often extended his hand to the warm sunlight. He smiled whenever he heard the sound of the morning birds, and when the carriage struck a bump in the road, he laughed.
Yes, he laughed. It was the first time I heard that sound from him. So like a child he seemed, possessed of a boyish wonder at the fantastic mundane things in life, an attribute which most lose early and few manage to regain. He laughed in delight every time the carriage struck a bump in the road. He chuckled at the passing of white smog that brushed over pass the window as we descended from the heights.
Looking outside, it seemed that everyone in Capital, perhaps even the entire kingdom had turned out in their finest clothing. They strewed petals over the road as we passed.
When we exited, we found ourselves staring up at the immense edifice of the cathedral towering against the overcast sky. The cathedral and its associated buildings occupied an entire block in the center of the Capital. Milky-white steps lead up to its three entrances, each with two gleaming doors under a chrome arch. Its central tower soared so high into the sky that at moments it disappeared into the kaleidoscopic swirl of yellowish smog and pollutants. Huge lancet windows, crafted of a red stained glass that glowed as if ablaze, rose hundreds of spans high.
From outside, we could hear the orchestra tuning up, the creak as the crowd shifted in their seats.
As we followed the other nobles in, we were all led into the large circular inner chamber with its high-vaulted ceiling. Spires of crystal and wood jutted down like stalactites. At the center of the room, atop a high wooden platform stood the massive, white marble basin next to an altar of rough-hewn stone. Upon the altar had been placed the traditional goblet of pure gold.
From overhead, cone-shaped fixtures casts dim, chrome-yellow light on the ranks of pews.
The orchestra, all in white and metallic silver, tuned their instruments.
Once everyone was seated, the high priest in his blue robe walked down the aisle to the applause of all, but the Duke who starred in unconcealed concentration.
"Prosperity, one and all," the priest said in a deep, resonant voice that echoed in the cavernous room. "Today we celebrate the joining of two noble souls, one is our beloved and generous king; may he live a hundred years. The other is his chosen bride and our future queen."
There was a reinvigorated cheer from the crowd.
The white stone basin at the center of the room suddenly roared to life as flames burst from it, climbing high into the air, throwing a dancing golden light upon the attendees.
"Let this flame symbolize the illumination brought to Oriana by our Creator, the lord of the brilliant orb that hangs in our sky. It is His light that keeps the shadows of the old gods at bay. It is by his blessing that we alone are allowed to dwell in his light, and that new lands are created at our borders for our benefit." He reached into his pocket, then threw a palmful of glittery, powder-like substance up into the fire. At once, with a roar, it flared more brightly.
It was then that the king approached from a side door, dressed in his royal mantle. A dozen medals attached to his front as though they were bits of armor. The silver crown of the kingdom and empire was perched on his head.
"Your monarch," the priest intoned, and many of the audience members bowed.
A beautiful woman adorned in white appeared from one of the side chambers. Her cheeks were powdered, her lips painted a deep blood-red. Her hair was the color of tarnished gold, her skin smooth and pink as an infant's. All of the ten thousand pairs of eyes were upon her, waiting for her.
This could only have been the Lady Janina. A new round of applause sounded as she began walking down the aisle toward the center stage. Her slow walk was the traditional ritual. Her flowing blond hair shone in the firelight, and her gauzy white gown fluttered over the tops of her bare feet as she drew near the ritual flames.
"Perhaps I could request that she meet with you," I told him.
"No," the Duke said intently. "Please no." He covered his face and his eyes, his face was overcome with a grief I knew not.
The priest drew his knife and cut both the king's hand and that of his future queen, and drew their blood into the golden goblet.
"Let this blood fill this goblet and let it be cleansed of all the impurities of the sin, of the mutant, and of all contaminants of the earth, air, and water," the priest said. "Now let their hands join."
Janina inclined her head and rose to stand beside the King. He placed his right hand on the steam of the chalice. She did likewise. Their fingers intertwined. The holy man released his grip and stepped back. "Let them drink and be joined in blood."
First the king and then the bride, both to sipped from the mixture.
From the voices of the audience came a collective chant:
"So they will be joined
As their hands to the cup,
As they drink as one
So will they be."
The goblet thus emptied. They lowered it to the altar together.
"It is done!" the priest cried. An explosion of applause filled the chamber. "May the purity of their blood ring true in all their generations!"
The king then placed upon her head a thin gold tiara, rubies and emeralds dotting the front.
The thunder of applause swelled even louder and the Duke appeared to desperately want to leave. "I cannot...I cannot...:" he whispered under his breath. I could barely hear him over the applause and cheers of the crowd. The two of us wove our way through the jubilant throng, along their pew and up the aisle, never looking back.
Just outside, next to the wide, closing door, the Duke fell back against the building as if exhausted. One of the royal guardsmen asked if his highness was alright. I told him that he was. We could still hear the cheers and the wild applause continuing inside, and he shook his head. After a moment, he slammed his fist against the wooden door-frame as though in anger or some intense frustration.
I coaxed him away, saying "Come on," I said. "It will be at least an hour or so before we are discovered missing. Let us see the sights your kingdom has to offer you."