Agatha had been first made aware of her betrothal when she was seven.
Vanessa had mentioned it to the visiting Queen Jacinda of Jaunt Jolie, a very satisfied smile on her face, whilst Agatha had been in earshot. Though she'd not been asked her thoughts on the matter, she'd heard her name, and later, she'd asked Callis about it.
"Who's Tedros?" she'd asked as Callis walked her back to her rooms that night. Her nursemaid had looked down at her, eyebrows raised.
"He's the Prince of Camelot, sweetheart." she'd stopped in front of the map on the fourth floor and pointed the huge coastal kingdom out to Agatha.
"How old is he?" asked Agatha, with only the preoccupations of a seven-year-old in mind.
"Six, I believe."
Agatha wrinkled her nose. Younger than her and a boy. Two strikes against him immediately.
"Mother said he was my…" she paused, struggling over the unfamiliar word.
"Betrothed." supplied Callis, opening the door to the sitting room.
"That." nodded Agatha.
"Big word, that one." said Callis. She'd spelled it out for her- Callis never missed the opportunity to teach her something- and Agatha had frowned at it.
"What does it mean?"
"It means you're arranged to marry him." said Callis. Agatha, whose only experience with marriage was attending her mother's courtier's weddings, must have looked confused, because Callis assumed her usual teaching position, in her chair next to the fire. Agatha rushed to sit at her feet, pulling her veil and gloves off so she could stick her hands in the flames.
"Your mother and his father have arranged it so you two will get married when you're all grown up. It helps out both kingdoms, with money, allies, and power. Eventually, you'll be Queen of Camelot, and he'll be Prince of Gavaldon."
Agatha furrowed her brow.
"How can I be Queen of Camelot and Gavaldon?"
"There's a difference between them." Callis had told her. "You'll be Queen Regnant of Gavaldon, because you're the current Queen's daughter, and the crown gets given to people's children. But you'll be Queen Consort of Camelot, because you're married to the King. You'll have more power in Gavaldon, because you're the reigning Queen, but in Camelot your power comes from marrying Tedros."
This was a little too much for Agatha, who struggled with it for a minute. Callis seemed to notice.
"You'll understand it better when you're a little older." she said. "All you need to know for now is that when you're eighteen, you'll go to Camelot to marry Tedros."
Agatha thought about this for a minute-
"Can I come home after?"
"Yes, sweetheart. You might have to go there quite a lot, but you can definitely come home. You'll just have to be there a little while, whilst you actually have the wedding."
Agatha looked up at her. Eighteen seemed a very long time away- hardly worth thinking about. She only really had two concerns.
"You'll come with me, right?"
Callis looked at her for a second-
Then she leaned down to pick her up, and put her in her lap. Agatha wriggled for a moment, but relented quickly, settling in the crook of Callis's arm.
"Yes, I'll come with you." she'd said.
Now, Agatha knew she'd lied to reassure her; she'd had no idea if she'd be able to come, and Agatha's bargaining with Vanessa had been to ensure she would. Then, though, she'd really only had one thought-
"Do I have to kiss him?" asked Agatha suddenly, apprehensive. Callis smiled, pulled out of her thoughts.
"Yes, sadly, you have to kiss him. It's part of being married."
"Oh, no, I don't want to kiss him! Ew-"
Callis had just laughed, even as Agatha complained.
She'd forgotten about it, mostly, as children tended to. But as she'd gotten older, Agatha had begun to deliberately resolve not to think about it. If she was honest, she'd purposefully avoided learning about Tedros as much as possible, because learning about Tedros meant that the wedding was suddenly a reality. But she'd kept it at arms length for as long as she could, until she was about sixteen and people had started mentioning relentlessly. Then she'd resorted to fatalistic jokes, and it hadn't been hard to pretend it was further away than it was, because Vanessa had kept her out of all the arrangements.
But now, she was staring it in the face.
It was to be a glorious day. Cold enough to mean the members of the public packing the streets weren't going to pass out in the heat, but bright and crisp enough to make it seem pleasant, even if it was still February.
Agatha has been sitting here, in the corner of her balcony, since 2am. She'd gone to bed knowing full well she wasn't going to sleep, and had given up on trying an hour in. She'd sat up in bed, staring at the wall and wringing her nightdress in her hands until she'd burnt a hole in it. She'd gone to lie in front of her fire, sat in the sitting room, gone to get a snack, gone to the bathroom three times and read the opening page of the same book multiple times, before eventually giving up on distractions and going outside. It's six, now, and more carriages are arriving. They've been appearing consistently for the last week, and still more are parading down the drive- the palace has suddenly become abuzz with various dignitaries and royal families visiting for the wedding. The arrivals now are probably people who need to be reported to stewards, to get permission to be at the front of the crowds. Reporters and sketch artists, and such…
Agatha grimaces and looks away. Perhaps it will do to get a few more hours of sleep, after all.
But it barely feels like she's closed her eyes for ten seconds before she's being shaken awake by someone unfamiliar.
"Ow!" the unknown maid blurts, yanking her hands away. "She burned me!"
"Don't grab her then, clod." snaps Callis's voice from somewhere nearby. "Rule number one, Lucinda. Agatha, your mother has sent her personal maids to help you get ready."
Agatha sits up, eyeing the two prim, snooty maids stood in a pastel huddle next to her bed. Beatrix and Dot are lurking nearby with Callis, glaring at them.
"Extra manpower needed today." says Lucinda stiffly, staring at Agatha. Agatha, who knows her mother's maids have never seen her without her veil, glares back.
"Get on with it, then." says Agatha grimly.
Get on with it they do.
They strip her of her nightgown, and she's flung into a shallow, scorchingly hot, heavily scented bath. Agatha sneezes, cringing at the heavy, flowery perfume, as someone lathers her hair in a similar shampoo and her body in a matching oil, scratching her with long nails. Agatha, generally shaken from her abrupt awakening, isn't paying much attention-
So is slow to notice when they throw a whole pitcher of water over her to rinse her.
Agatha shouts and ducks away, swearing furiously and swiping at her body.
"Did Vanessa tell you anything?" barks Callis, at her side in an instant.
"Of course she didn't." snarls Agatha, hunched forward, trying to catch her breath. The maids exchange glances, but don't offer any kind of apology.
Beatrix is silently offering her a towel, which she takes, scrambling out of the bath before they can stop her. Why aren't her usual maids and Callis enough to prepare her? Why does she need her mother's maids?
Well, she knows, really. Vanessa is fully aware this is the first time Agatha will be unveiled, and she wants to try and make her look… well, not her best, but better than usual. There's no covering up the big scars, not the ones on her nose and mouth and cheek- the ones that ruin her whole face- but the little ones can be concealed, and if she looks acceptable in every other way... It seems Vanessa has realised that trying to humiliate Agatha will only make her look bad by extension, so she's trying to compensate. Hmph. Well, Agatha's sure she'll do something to displease her today. Maybe several things. It wouldn't be the first time.
She grumbles about this to herself as she's re-subjected to the same extreme prep she'd had when she first arrived- only her mother's maids are much less careful, and much less friendly than Beatrix and Dot had been. For the next hour, Agatha has her whole body waxed, shaved and plucked, the scars on her neck, chest and arms expertly covered with makeup, and is doused in more of that too-strong rose oil. By the end of it, Agatha's skin feels tender and raw, and she's beginning to understand why Vanessa employs these two women- they're just as unsentimental and ruthless as her. Stuck-up, too- they'd laughed when Agatha had demanded to know what they were doing to her, as if she should have known. Yes, it made perfect sense why these were her mother's choices.
But just as one of them opens her mouth to say something, the two of them are bodily shunted aside by Beatrix.
"Our turn, ladies." she says cheerfully. Vanessa's two maids look her up and down doubtfully.
"Beatrix, Queen Vanessa said we were to-"
"That's Countess to you now, sweetie." says Beatrix smoothly. "We got a little promotion last night, me and Dot. In honour of the wedding, the King convinced his court it would be nice if we were officially made members of it, so we could serve his new Queen as members of her household, rather than maids. Ladies in waiting. That kind of thing. Know what that means?"
The two maids look at one another-
"You don't get to order me around anymore, right! Now get out, I've got to make her hair presentable."
Agatha watches, stunned, as the two maids shuffle out, muttering something about fetching her dress. The both of them have been flitting around Vanessa for years, and Agatha has never seen them even entertain a suggestion from anyone who wasn't Vanessa, let alone take orders…
She registers what Beatrix had said.
"You two are Countesses, now?"
"Yep!" says Dot, slamming a box full of makeup down on the counter. "There was muttering of bringing in some other noblewomen to be in your household, so we-"
"-so Dot went to Teddy and threw a tantrum," interrupted Beatrix. "So he went and pitched a hissy fit of equal size to the court until they agreed to promote us. I think he also- Callis, didn't he try and promote you, somehow?"
"I was already a member of Agatha's household." says Callis, chucking Agatha's robe onto her head from where she was sitting on the side of the tub. "He just secured it."
Agatha hesitates halfway through putting it on, feeling rather touched-
"It was also because he was horrified at the idea of having to deal with anyone new, don't think it was just for you." says Callis, clearly guessing her feelings. "I confess myself a little disappointed that I haven't scared him off."
Agatha laughs.
"Noted."
It doesn't take Beatrix long to fix her hair- all she needs to do is make it look neat. She's to be crowned at the wedding, so they couldn't do anything fancy even if they wanted to, and it's only grown back into a very short bob, anyway. Minimal makeup from Dot, apart from some darker lipstick that Agatha rather likes and other basic stuff she doesn't really bother to question. She supposes there's not much point in trying to cover anything up, and she suspects Dot had seen the apprehension in her expression at the mention of the extravagant makeup fashions here.
Then, the dress.
Agatha pulls nervously on the ties of her robe as Vanessa's two maids totter in with the garment bag. Whatever it is, it's clearly heavy, and she prays that Anemone has managed to save the disaster of the dress originally designed for her.
But first, she's given some new linens, ornate embroidery on the ends of the sleeves, new stockings, and a brand new kirtle- much stiffer and more structured than her usual ones, and laced so tightly by Vanessa's maids that Agatha starts coughing and Callis subtly loosens it. They're not supposed to actually hinder breathing, though she's sure Vanessa inclines to light-headedness sometimes to keep herself looking trim. The apron of fabric that will be visible through the split in the gown, is a deep, rich black. Unusual. Agatha rubs it carefully between her fingers as they put her gown over the top, hoping it's a good sign…
"I'll take it from here, ladies." says Callis suddenly. "You two need to go and help the Queen get ready."
Vanessa's maids glance at one another, but they don't argue, probably desperate to be free of their Queen's surly daughter and her disrespectful maids. They turn and leave without another word, leaving Callis with Agatha. Beatrix and Dot are clattering around in the bathroom, not paying attention.
Busily, Callis starts to lace up the sides of Agatha's gown, but there's a look on her face that Agatha doesn't see often- pinched and tense, as if she's holding back from saying something. Usually, Callis speaks her mind, so this is unprecedented.
Nervous, Agatha goes back to staring at her stockinged feet, not wanting to look anywhere, but least of all the mirror, but all she can see is the white and black fabric, her ungloved hands, and-
It hits her, suddenly, a stinging reality, like a slap.
She's about to be married.
To Tedros.
In front of hundreds of people.
Unveiled.
She turns abruptly to Callis, who looks up at her, surprised.
"I can't do this." she croaks, suddenly wretched. "I can't. there's going to be all these people, all these Kings and Empresses, I can't, Callis-"
Callis finishes securing her jewellery and squeezes her hands tightly, almost painfully, trying to ground her. She's sure they're unbearably hot, but Callis doesn't let go. Agatha gets like this sometimes, bowled over by an almost painful self-doubt, but this is exacerbated, a million times worse, made overwhelming by the circumstances.
"They'll hate me." she whispers, doubled over.
"Tedros won't." says Callis fiercely. Agatha looks away wildly, not wanting to voice her doubts-
"No, listen." says Callis, pulling her sleeve so Agatha will look back at her. "Tedros won't, and that's all that matters. You think anyone's going to risk saying anything, if they think it's going to get back to him? You've seen how easily he gets annoyed. I know you think he's just some stupid kid, and he is, but he's also a world power and everyone else knows it."
Agatha looks helplessly at her. She's struggling to believe her, clawing to avoid the glaring problem they're both ignoring- the potential that Callis is wrong, and he will-
"Want to look at your dress?" says Callis calmly, as if they've just been discussing the weather. Even though the answer is no, never, Agatha shakily turns back around-
I can work wonders.
Anemone has been as good as her word, because the gown is completely transformed.
It's still the white silk she'd originally seen, but the tight, unflattering silhouette has been reconfigured- neckline raised a little, bodice made slightly longer, the skirt a tad narrower. It makes Agatha's height look stately and impressive, rather than ungainly. The original sleeves have been sliced off and replaced with wide, loose black fabric, laced with white. Matching black embroidery tracks the bodice and down the skirt, and pearls are strung across the bodice and down the split in the skirt where the black underskirt is visible- not enough to look garish, but just enough to make it look very fine indeed.
Agatha stares at it, stunned. It really is a gown fit for a queen. It's a fond homage to her usual dark colour palette, but there's nothing depressing about it- the black is intended as a compliment to her dark hair and eyes, and it's still clearly a dress made for a celebration.
In it, she even thinks her face might look a little less prominent.
Then Callis prods her in the side, and Agatha looks down- to encounter Anemone's sneaky flame motifs, just stitched above the waistline.
Overwhelmed, Agatha starts to laugh. It's slightly hysterical, but it's preferable to the terrible panic she'd been consumed with only a few minutes ago.
"I told her you'd like it." sighs Callis, yanking her off the stool she'd been standing on so she can secure the veil into Agatha's hair- white silk, with more of that black embroidery. No headpiece this time, since she's to be crowned at the ceremony.
Trying not to think about the veil too hard, Agatha fidgets with the pearls on her bodice, hyper-aware that it's not long until they have to leave.
She finds herself looking at Callis in the mirror instead, watching her nursemaid as she fusses with the veil- there's nothing wrong with it, as far as Agatha can tell.
Sighing, she reaches up to pull the front over her face-
Callis catches her wrist.
"You're going to burn yourself if you keep grabbing my arms." says Agatha, unsure what she's doing. Callis is looking back at her in the mirror, wearing that hesitant expression again. Agatha turns around to look at her, confused-
"The other week…" says Callis slowly, fiddling with her necklace, the one Agatha had bought her for her birthday. "When you came back from that appointment with Anemone…"
Agatha blinks, confused. There was nothing special about that day, so far as she can see. They'd just been messing around.
"You said-" Callis pauses, clearly teetering on the edge of telling her whatever it is. Agatha looks blankly at her, going back over that conversation. Now she thinks about it, Callis had looked at her oddly, after she'd said… she'd said…
Callis seems to steel herself, but Agatha gets there first.
"I called you Mom." She realises. "Didn't I?"
Slowly, Callis nods. Agatha stares at her, surprised at herself. Not surprised that she thought of Callis as her mother- of course she did, she'd raised her- but surprised she'd said it out loud. She'd always avoided calling her it, in case it made her uncomfortable- she wasn't even 40, yet, and Agatha was nearly in her 20s, so Agatha had never been sure how she'd felt about it. There had also been the thought that it would just cause more conflict with Vanessa. So she was just Callis. Agatha hadn't been under the impression she'd cared either way, but…
"Did you mind?" she asks.
Callis blinks at her. Then she seems to come to life, and goes marching off to snatch up a few last trinkets from the side table.
"No. No, it was fine, I was just surprised because you've never done it before, and I wasn't sure-"
Agatha grabs her around the waist and plants a kiss on her cheek.
"I've been wanting to do it for years." she says. "But I thought it would make you feel old."
Callis looks at her, incredulous-
Then she laughs.
"Who am I, Vanessa? I am old, Agatha."
"You're not old."
"I'm older than you, missy. Don't pick the embroidery on your gown."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"Am I your mother or not?"
"Oh, you're such an opportunist-"
Callis shuts her up by clasping her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Suddenly sobered, Agatha clutches Callis's forearms, very aware that they're both afraid of what's coming.
"I'm glad it's him." says Callis quietly.
"Me, too." whispers Agatha.
It's the first time she's admitted it- to herself, or anyone else. They make fun of Tedros for his earnestness, but it's the exact thing that both of them are now desperately clinging to. His decency is the necessary piece. If he has a bad-natured or mean reaction of any kind…
Almost on instinct, Agatha lets go of Callis and pulls her veil down over her face. Callis looks displeased as the fabric falls in-between them, as she usually does when Agatha veils herself.
It's the last time it will have the same meaning, though.
After today, it won't be a secret anymore.
"I wish it wasn't her walking me down the aisle." mutters Agatha, shoving her feet into her heels. "I'd much rather it was you."
"As much as I would love to, you know who your mother is in the eyes of the court." sighs Callis, arranging her veil neatly for her. "So I'm afraid-"
She looks over Agatha's shoulder and her face closes off so fast it's almost scary.
"Queen Vanessa." she says.
Agatha whirls to the door.
Vanessa is standing there, watching them with an unreadable expression. Her hands are clasped in front of her, and her back is straight, but she's strangely devoid of her usual disdain. She's wearing blue, like the rest of Agatha's wedding party, and her Queen's crown. She's never looked more extravagant- or more serious. It's impossible to know how long she's been standing there for. Perhaps the whole time.
I hope she heard all of it. Agatha thinks savagely. Everything. It's about time she knew.
"Ready to go?" Vanessa asks blankly.
Agatha nods slowly.
It couldn't be further from the truth.
The wedding is being held at Caliburn Cathedral in the centre of the city, which means they need to take a carriage there.
"This is stupid." mutters Agatha as they're crammed in together- Agatha, Vanessa as the mother of the bride, and Sophie, Anadil and Callis as her attendants. She keeps her hands in her lap to avoid accidentally touching someone whilst ungloved. "There's a chapel in the palace, why don't we just hold it there?"
"It's tradition." says Vanessa sniffily. She's clearly not happy to be sat with Callis- she had tried to omit Callis from the wedding party a few weeks ago, until Agatha had started loudly asking after the effectiveness of appearance magic, so she'd relented, albeit in bad grace. "Besides, the palace chapel isn't nearly large enough for a wedding of this scale."
Agatha knows that, as a royal wedding, it's naturally going to be well-attended, but the knowledge that they needed a cathedral to fit everyone is highly daunting.
That doesn't prepare her for the immense crowds lining every street, though.
Huge swathes of people are crammed into every nook and cranny of the streets they ride through, cheering and waving banners emblazoned with the Camelot dragon, throwing flowers into the wake of the carriage. Agatha blinks, bewildered.
"Um… they're not all going to the wedding, right?"
"No," Callis reassures her quickly. "But you'll ride in an open-top carriage back to the palace for the reception and dinner, and people will want to see you and Tedros together."
"Oh." mutters Agatha, less bewildered now, and more apprehensive. Vanessa frowns.
"I would have thought that was obvious. You won't remember my wedding, but almost the entire population of the kingdom came to watch me and Stefan ride by."
Agatha rolls her eyes and settles back to observe the crowds, wanting to find a genuine interest in the crowds of faces that will soon be her subjects.
But it's hard, since she doesn't know if they'll treat her with the same enthusiasm on the way back.
They're at the cathedral all too soon, and Agatha barely has time to look up at the intricate spires before the door is opened smartly for them. Vanessa and Callis get out first, glaring at one another when they both extend a hand to help Agatha down. Agatha chooses Callis, naturally, and steps down to an immense increase in cheering. People are craning over the barriers to get a good look at her dress, and she can see a group of somewhat hassled artists furiously sketching at the front. Agatha tries her best to wave enthusiastically, but the booming of the cathedral bells, the shouts of the crowd, and the bustle of people surrounding her- attendants, bishops, flower girls- are all utterly overwhelming.
Sophie busily arranges her skirts for her whilst Vanessa proudly takes her place next to Agatha, waving to the crowd. Callis and Anadil seem to be preoccupied with keeping the flower girls- who Agatha thinks are toddler cousins of Tedros's- from wandering off.
Then Vanessa gestures for her to start walking. Agatha shakily lifts her skirts and starts up the steps, Vanessa keeping easy pace with her, a gentle smile carefully pasted onto her face. Agatha doesn't have the capacity to sneer about it like she usually would, trying to avoid falling over in the heels or stepping on her skirt. The steps are carpeted in white for the occasion, which seems awfully impractical, but it stops too soon- suddenly, she's standing before the interior doors of the cathedral, and Vanessa is beside her, clasping her arm tightly. This time, she's wearing gloves, no doubt to avoid being burned by Agatha.
How ironic.
Agatha jumps as a fanfare suddenly blares out from somewhere- she hears Callis snort from behind her- and the doors start to open.
Vanessa straightens her back, widening her smile, and Agatha turns to look at her. Vanessa glances over at her, and for a second, they just look at one another.
Are you happy for me? Agatha wonders. Can you be?
But then the doors are open, Vanessa is leading her slowly down the aisle, and Agatha's thoughts are knocked out of her head by the realisation of how many people are in this room.
Packed shoulder-to-shoulder, the crowd makes a sea of gorgeous gowns, doublets, hats, fans and coats- for a minute, Agatha can appreciate how beautiful it looks, a huge gathering of finely dressed people amongst stained glass and stone pillars.
Then she notices how they're all craning to get a good look at her.
You're still veiled, you're still veiled, you're still veiled…
Agatha bites her cheek and stares at specific faces, hoping to distract herself. She can see the people Beatrix coached her about- the Sultan of Shazabah and his beautiful daughter in matching scarlet, the Empress of Putsi swathed in feathers, the King of Foxwood, the Emperor of Avalon Towers and his tall, handsome niece… anyone with even a smidgen of influence has come to see the union of Camelot and Gavaldon.
The aisle feels about a thousand miles long, and they're progressing so slowly, with so many people's eyes on her…
Agatha starts to sweat. She's not unused to being stared at, but the extra circumstances, the knowledge of what's to come, the sheer amount of powerful people in this room...
Heart pounding, Agatha casts around for anything that might make her feel better, anyone, but she can't find any of her friends. Sophie, Callis and Anadil are behind her. All of the guards are helmeted, so no chance of finding Chaddick or Hester, and Beatrix and Dot are nowhere to be seen. Neither is Anemone.
Truly starting to panic, now, Agatha swallows hard, gazing at one of the stained glass windows-
Her hand is put into a much more solid one.
A much colder one.
Agatha doesn't need to look to know that Tedros has come to meet her.
He takes her hand and leads her carefully up the steps to the altar, Vanessa and the others backing off to sit in the front row of pews. The altar is raised, so they're visible to everyone in the chapel- Agatha is so busy worrying about that, she barely listens to the opening statements, only jerking back to the present when they're bidden to kneel by the archbishop.
They do, Tedros still gripping her hand. The bishop begins to reel off some blessing that Agatha doesn't really comprehend, heart still pounding-
She risks a glance at Tedros, and finds that he's looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
He winks.
Half of the tension sloughs out of Agatha at once. At least someone's having fun, she thinks, exasperated, but she can't stop herself pressing his hand slightly in acknowledgement. He's resplendent in a matching white and black doublet, tight around his throat and chest, and his crown brushes his curls low across his brow. He has pearl earrings in. Of course he does…
Then Tedros is standing, and Agatha is standing with him, turning to face him as he takes both of her hands. More blessings, but it's abundantly clear he's not paying attention either, looking carefully at her. Agatha nervously glances over his shoulder and finds Chaddick stood to attention behind him, grinning at her.
Agatha sighs softly. He's enjoying himself, too. The two of them are the worst, truly.
Dimly, it occurs to her that they're blowing their cover, standing with clasped hands without the least appearance of discomfort. If Weatherford and Vanessa didn't know their magic cancelled the other's out before, they'll have realised today.
She can't bring herself to care.
Not now.
Then one of Tedros's tiny cousins is tottering forwards, bearing two rings in a wooden box. Tedros lets go of Agatha's hands and takes her ring from the box- the delicate silver band with a small ruby and tiny diamonds she'd chosen weeks ago. Tedros had suggested the ruby as an inside joke, but in the end it had looked good, so she'd agreed to it.
He takes her left hand and lifts it, sliding the ring onto her finger.
"With this ring I thee wed." he tells her, squeezing her hand slightly as he secures it on her finger. Tense, Agatha copies him, taking his ring- almost identical to hers, but only bearing diamonds- and putting it onto his hand, relieved she doesn't drop it. She's starting to tremble, she realises, as she watches her own hands on Tedros's. She knows what's coming. There's nothing between it and her, not now they've done the rings, because after the rings-
"With this ring I thee wed." she repeats, willing her voice not to betray her terror, relieved when it only shakes the tiniest bit.
Tedros bows his head to her. The priest is talking again-
"Thus, by the grace of this union, I declare you, King Tedros of Camelot, to be Prince Consort of Gavaldon. And I declare you, Princess Agatha of Gavaldon, to be the reigning Queen Consort of Camelot."
And now-
The horror that Agatha is feeling has reached dizzying, sickening heights, her heart pounding so hard that it's almost painful.
Tedros reaches for her veil, and Agatha stands, numb, desperately wanting to stop him but knowing she can't.
In the roar of her thoughts, a notion surfaces- she should have shown him before the wedding. That way, she wouldn't have to watch the reaction with her face inches from his, seeing every emotion in his gaze no matter how hard he tries to hide it, because Tedros can't lie, and-
Gently, Tedros lifts her veil. Agatha bites back a sob.
The thing is, despite her best efforts, she's imagined this moment a million times. In some, he does his best to be kind- he looks startled, horrified, but he covers it quickly and snatches a wobbly smile back onto his face, even if it lacks the usual enthusiasm, and will probably never regain it. In others, he looks painfully sympathetic, pitying, enough that Agatha wants to hit him. In her worst, darkest thoughts, he rips himself away from her, blatantly horrified, and breaks it off right there, just like Sophie had said.
More recently, she'd anticipated the look he's got right now- the hopeful, almost excitable anticipation. He finally gets to know, she won't stop him, he can see...
She can hear the creak of the wooden pews as everyone leans forwards, just as anticipatory as the groom, even Chaddick is craning his neck-
But Tedros doesn't look startled, and he doesn't look sympathetic, and he doesn't look horrified.
Tedros carefully pushes her veil back, smooths it down… and he smiles at her.
Adoring, delighted.
Real.
Like someone who's genuinely happy. Like a friend, or a lover, like… like...
Like a husband smiles at his wife.
Tedros smiles at her as he takes her by the waist and kisses her.
For a split second, Agatha doesn't know what to do, head absolutely empty with shock. This wasn't what she'd anticipated at all, and she- she doesn't know what she-
Then she kisses him back, clutching his doublet, grounded by the press of his cold lips against hers and the gentle weight of his hand on her waist. She grips his hand tightly, and he does it back, kissing her harder in a clear reassurance- I don't care, I don't, I don't, I never did…
They break apart, Agatha still holding him desperately-
Then she hears the muttering.
There's applause, yes, but an undertone of whispers sweep the pews, jumping from person to person as Agatha turns towards them, Tedros presenting his new wife to the world...
It brings Agatha violently back to the present, and she starts desperately trying to find somewhere to look, somewhere where people won't stare back, won't gawk at her-
Tedros's hand gently brushes her chin, and her gaze shoots back up to him despite her best efforts.
"Kneel." he murmurs, as the archbishop approaches, holding a crown- the Queen of Camelot's crown, the intricate silver and diamond piece she'd seen depicted in so many paintings in the castle.
Of course. She needs to be crowned.
Utterly overwhelmed, and slightly worried she's going to faint, Agatha sinks to her knees as Tedros takes the crown from the bishop and holds it up.
"As the reigning King of Camelot, I and I alone have the authority to crown you, Agatha Aldridge, Princess of Gavaldon, as my Queen. I bestow upon you the title Queen Consort of Camelot. Long live the Queen!"
He lowers the crown onto her head, and the crowd take up the cry;
"Long live the Queen!"
Agatha returns to the carriages in a daze- she thinks she's smiling, but honestly, she finds it hard to be sure, since she's truly struggling to focus. Her smiles often look odd anyway, so it honestly might be best if she's not. Either way, gasps, whispers and stares are following her, not at all covered by the polite applause inside the cathedral, or the cheering of the people of Camelot out in the streets. Agatha tries her best to tune it out, but it's hard when she can see the sketch artists gawking at her, leaning over the barrier so far they're risking toppling it over, and no matter where she looks, she can see someone else's shocked face-
Perhaps she needn't have worried about Tedros's reaction. He's just one person. Here are thousands, all horrified, so does it even matter that Tedros doesn't care-?
But then she meets his eyes as he eagerly offers her a hand up into the carriage, and she thinks that yes, it really does matter.
"Are you alright?" he asks anxiously as he follows her, careful not to step on her skirts. Agatha grits her teeth, still feeling shaky.
"Better than I thought." she says, as the door is slammed shut. She shoots another apprehensive glance across the crowd- still cheering dutifully but generally looking rather stunned- pretending to arrange her skirts.
"I'm sorry it's open-top," says Tedros worriedly, catching her veil and pushing it back behind her head as the wind buffets them. "I suggested a closed one might be a better idea, but I couldn't give them a good reason why when they asked, and they didn't want to break with tradition."
"It's fine, it's not your fault." mutters Agatha. Then; "I should have told you before."
"Why?" asks Tedros. "It was your choice. I don't mind."
Agatha bites back a how?, a why? and an are you mad like I speculated on the boat? before settling on a quiet;
"I know."
She looks ahead, to the swathes of people awaiting them- waiting to see them- and swallows.
Tedros catches her hand and rubs his thumb across the back of it- then seems to realise what he's doing and lets go.
"Sorry." he mutters. "I just thought-"
"No, it's fine." Agatha grabs it back. For both appearances and for comfort.
There's a pause. Agatha reluctantly copies Tedros and waves to the crowds of well-wishers, even though she tries her best to look over their heads-
Suddenly, Tedros looks at her, and his face clears of any anxiety it had held.
"What?" demands Agatha, suddenly apprehensive.
"I nearly laughed during the vows."
Agatha looks suspiciously at him.
"... why?"
"No, nothing you did, I just noticed…"
Tedros leans over to whisper to her;
"Your mother's dress is dreadful."
Agatha slowly starts to smile.
"What?"
"It's so… puffy. I couldn't stop looking at it. It doesn't flatter her at all."
Agatha starts to laugh.
"You can be so vicious, sometimes-"
Tedros grins at her, but she doesn't miss how his face darkens when he looks back to Vanessa.
"When it concerns her, I'll be as vicious as I please."
Agatha's smile slowly fades as the realisation hits her.
He knows how her face got the way it is. He's worked it out, from what Callis told him.
And he's not happy at all.
The carriage jerks forwards, bearing them back towards the palace.
Tedros holds her hand tightly the whole way back.