A/N: OK, I think this might actually be the last chapter! Unless, of course, I decide to add more, which is entirely possible.
I was trembling. Mama said that all girls are frightened on their wedding days, but I was terrified. My beautiful, expensive dress (all Naum's doing; perhaps to demonstrate regret for trying to take Papa's place for so long) rustled slightly as I shifted my feet in one of the cathedral's antechambers; Mama had left to join the audience, along with Naum, whose hand she was holding tightly, tighter than I had ever seen her hold anyone's hand, except for Papa's.
I was only ten years old when Papa died; Mama thought I had forgotten him, especially when she married Naum two years later, but I hadn't. Mama never talked about Papa after she got a letter, a few weeks after we said good-bye to him beside the harbor, for the last time. Everyone else thought that she didn't love him, that she'd married for money, not love. Soldiers have good salaries, they said.
But I always knew better. I knew better because I heard her crying sometimes, when she thought that no one could hear her, at night. Clavdiya never noticed, but I did. I had heard Papa tell her, the day he left, to marry someone else. She loved Naum, of course, but she couldn't love him as much as she loved Papa. She never expressed her love, in ways that other people could see, but I could see how she sometimes searched Naum's face, looking in his dark brown eyes for Papa's bright grey ones.
Mayen gave a little yelp beside me, reminding me of what I had to do. My own groom awaited me in the next room; I would, myself, be a wife. Demyan would be a good husband; he was magnificently handsome, and a good, steady man. He smiled gently but seldom laughed. Of course, he was also a soldier, and that would bring us and our future family a good income. I loved him, maybe not as much as Mama and Papa loved each other, but someday I would.
Clavdiya opened the door gently, her eyes dancing in the way Papa's had, a proud grin on her face. She loved jokes and fun, like Papa had. The one thing I had not inherited from Papa. I gave her a hug, tousling her dark hair gently, contemplating the beauty who stared back at me. Everyone said that we were the town beauties; I suppose that was true. She'd be married soon, I was sure of that. Kliment would become a soldier, perhaps, like his father, not like his stepfather, Naum, whose occupation was trading.
But Kliment was only twelve, and he still had much of his childhood ahead of him. His daemon hadn't even settled yet. My Mayen had settled early, into a smaller imitation of Papa's wolf daemon. That had been right after the world had set itself to rights again; after the great upheaval of the Magisterium that touched even tiny Archangel. Only a few months after Papa died.
My thoughts had wandered for long enough. I could hear the organ start up, reminding me of Naum's kind offer to pay in order to hold the wedding here, in the grandest cathedral in Archangel. Clavdiya took up my train, her smaller bridesmaid dress rustling along with mine, as we moved into the sanctuary. I could see Demyan smiling calmly at me from the front. Mama, Naum, and Kliment all grinned at me from the front pew. I kept walking.
As I reached the top step, Demyan clasped my hand in his larger one. It was then that I realized what being a soldier's wife truly meant. And I smiled back.