(A/N Well, I need your advice. It's going to sound silly and girly, but, you know, I have to talk to someone; you see, there is this boy/man/thing (whatever you prefer) and I've known him.. for, you know, a while. The thing is that I've kind of started to, you know, get feelings for him. Got it so far? This guy dated my freakin' best friend, which is a problem. But, on the other hand, I knew him long beofre that, and I sometimes think that he might, you know, feel the same thing. (you know what I'm talking about) So, I've felt like telling him it, but I don't know. That's where you guys some in What am I suppoused to do *cries like a bloody idiot*. Well, this was the silly, girly part. You might also notice that my chapters might turn more romantic. Sorry for that. I just gets like that. However... 'Kay, guys, here you go! The chapter you've all not been waiting for!)

Chapter 20: Married!

It had been a year, four months, two weeks and three days since she had asked Joseph to marry her. She had counted. At the moment, Cashmére was standing in front of a mirror. Or, more precisely, four mirrors. One at her right side, one at her left, one infront of her and on behind her. She could see her full body. Her wedding-gown was beautiful, she thought. It was huge, and red, and it had a high waist. A waist that high that you couldn't see that her stomach had started to grow.

Yes

She was pregnant. And she knew it. Joseph knew it, but- this far- no one else. Both of them wanted to tell Marcia before anyone else. Cashmére spun around in the mirror. The skirt was wide. And she liked it. At her feet, she wore a pair of golden sandals. Everyone in the Eastern Snowplains wore sandals when they were inside, at least it they were wealthy. When they went outside, they wore shoes. Big boots, lined with fur. Much fur, so that they could stand the cold outside. Inside, however, they wore sandals. Cashmére was excited over the wedding- she didn't remember the last time she was this happy- but she was also excited over the child. A child! And this soon! But she was worried about if Marcia would like it or not. And then her father... No. Wether they liked it, or not, she would have this child. She and Joseph was already thinking about the name. If it was a girl, they would name it Lorea Trassima Overstrand Tanner, and if it was a boy, it would be named Marcus Augustus Overstrand Tanner. Cashmére did something she didnt do very often: she squealed. She was so happy. Had she ever been this happy? No. Probably not. Somebody knocked at her door. "Come on in!" Cashmére called, in Joseph's language. She still had an accent, but she felt more and more comfortable with it. The language, then. Not her accent. She hated her accent. Her father entered the room. He was smiling at her. Cashmére smiled back at her, and hugged him.

"Pa!" she said.

"Cashmére." he replied, and stroke her hair. "I got something for you."

"Oh?" Cashmére felt excited, "A wedding-gift? Already?"

"Hm, no." her father admitted, "It's something else." He handed over a little box to her. She took it, and opend it. And she was shocked over the content.

"Is that... mums?" she breathed, and stroke her fingers over the golden, paper-thin, tiny little wedding-crown, delicately decorated with red stones and rubies.

"No." Tantibus said, "It's yours."

"Really?" Cashmére wondered, "Thanks!" She picked it up, and put it on. "So?" she wondered.

"Beautiful." he smiled at her, "Truly... beautiful."

"Thank you dad." Cashmére replied, and kissed his cheek- in a daughterly way, of course.

"See you soon, honey." he said, and went of.

Marcia had gotten three weeks of in order to be able to go to her brother's wedding. She was on the same boat as her mother, Milo and Jim (Milo's crewmember, the only one that had followed). It should be added that Trassimma was not happy. Not at all. Which annoyed Marcia. Why couldn't she be happy for Joseph just once, instead of being a grumpy, old... Marcia didn't want to think the last word. She knew that her father would have been happy. Probably. Maybe a little angry, but not like her mother.

It took a week (five days if you were lucky) to get to the Eastern Snowplains. Now, Marcia, Milo and Trassimma were there. Finally. Marcia had not know whether she would have standed beeing in a crowded area with her mother for any longer. She had seriousley considered jumping of the boat. But Milo was okay. He was Maximilian's old friend, but he knew Joseph well, too. And now, he knew Marcia quite well, as well. And Maximilian... was gone, wasn't he? After all. Somehow, Marcia missed him. A lot. "Hey!" it was Milo. He strode towards Marcia, as though being on a boat was as natural to him as it was being on land. It probably was, but... anyways. He was looking rater handsome. Marcia swore to herself, in her mind. She had just finsihed a brief, yet intense, relationship. And, according to herself, she was not ready for a new one. "Time to get of the boat." Milo said, "Can't miss the wedding, can we?"

"Of course we can't." Marcia replied. Her stomach cringed. Getting of (and on) the boat was the worst part of being at a boat. She went towards her cabin to grab her bag, but Milo stopped her.

"Wait..." Milo hurried after her, "You're... seasick, right?"

"Hm, well, yes." Marcia answered. "But it's not that bad, I-"

"Then let me help you with your bags." Milo said, "Just get of the boat, and wait for me there. Okay."

"Milo, that's very sweet of you, but-" Milo didn't listen to Marcia. He was already of.

"See you down there, Marcia!" he said, and Marcia nodded, reluctantly. Why were boys so... strange? This had happend her a lot recently. Boys wanted to help her, as though she was weak. Was she looking weak? Marcia didn't want anyones help.

Twenty minutes later, they were waiting for Joseph. Jim had stayed at the boat. Joseph had told them to wait there, and so they did. But Trassimma was complaining, though. She was always complaining, now. Marcia had noticed that. Finally, Joseph arrived. "How are ya' doing, Mar?" he asked. That was not- and I repeat not- acceptable in Marcia's eyes. She hadn't seen him for a year, and all he said was 'How are ya' doing?". How are ya doing? But Marcia swallowed her pirde. She threw her arms around his neck. "I've missed you!" she said, "A lot."

"I've missed you, too, Mar." Joseph replied, then let go. He shook hands with Milo, and then turned to his mother. He looked shy.

"Hi, mother." he said, carefully.

"Joseph." she looked at him, as though she was trying to find something to complain at. It was almost impossible. He was dressed in-what looked as- very expensive wedding-robes, all in Cashmére's family-colours. "So," Trassimma said, "Where is your lucky... bride?"

"She's back at Ambrosia- the palace- dealing with the last preparations." Joseph answered. Trassimma pursed her lips.

"Very well." she sighed, "Are we going?"

"Absolutley." Joseph said, trying to sound nice towards his mother. She didn't seem to care.

"Marcia!" Cashmére cried. Through sending eachother letters, both women had became very close. "Oh, I am so glad that you could come! Wonderful!"

"Glad to be here, Cass." Marcia said, smiling at Cashmére.

"But..." Cashmére hestitated, "Your dress... it won't do."

"What?" Marcia wondered, "What's wrong with it? I think it's alright."

"But you wore it at the feast back when you were asked to join the Seven!" Cashmére said, as though Marcia should have understood it already. "You can't wear it now."

"But it's my nicest dress!" Marcia protested. Cashmére shook her head.

"Come here." she said, "Let's find something more fitting..." Cashmére led Marcia of to Cashmére's- and soon, it would also be Joseph's- bedroom. Marcia was almost shocked at the beauty in the room. It was a big room, with simple, white-washed walls. Yet, they were covered with paintings and mirrors, and all kinds of decorations. Cashmére went straight to a huge, beautiful wardrobe.

"Here." she opend it, "Take the one you like the best."

"What?" Marcia wondered, "Why?"

"Because you won't wear that on my wedding." Cashmére replied. Of course she meant Marcia's dress. Marcia sighed, and started looking for a dress in Cashmére's huge wardrobe. At last she found one. It was rather simple, yet pretty. It covered her feet entirely, and the sleeve reached her elbows. The collar was high, which Marcia liked. But, of course, it was red. Red like everything else that Cashmére wore. Marcia almost sighed. She couldn't wear that, could she? But Cashmére nodded approvingly. "Is this one okay?" Marcia asked.

"Oh, yes!" Cashmére said, "Now, put it on!"

Marcia hestiated. "Go on, don't be shy!" Cashmére said, tapping her foot. Quickly, Marcia exchanged her old dress to the new one. Cashmére smiled. "Do you like it?"

"Well, yes." Marcia admitted, "But-"

"But what?"

"Hm, red is... Joseph and your colour." Marcia said, "I don't want to ruin it."

Cashmére laughed. "Oh, c'mon, Mar!" she replied, "You're a wizard, and I'm a witch. Changing the colour of that dress wouldn't be any problem at all, right?"

"Right." Marcia almost blushed. Why hadn't she though of that? Marcia dissapproved using magykjust for her own pleasure, but this was a expetion. Cashmére snapped her fingers, and the dress turned blue.

"See?" she said, "No probs." Somebody knocked at the door.

"Cass?" Joseph wondered, "May I come inside?"

"Sure thing." Cashmére answered, "Come in!"

"You've learned how to knock, now, Jose?" Marcia teased him, as he stepped inside.

"Yeah..." Joseph smiled at her, but he probably hadn't expected her to be there. Marcia saw that on his expression.

"I'll leave." she hurried to say, "So that you can have a moment alone."

"It's not needed, Mar." Joseph replied, "This... we want to tell you this."

"Tell me what?" Marcia asked curiously. Joseph gave Cashmére a questionizing look, and she nodded. He went over to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. "Go on, tell her." he said to her. Cashmére almost blushed.

"What?"

"Well, Marcia..." Cashmére begun, "Ah... ehm, Joseph and I are... Well, we are... hm, expecting... expecting, you know, a... well, a baby."

"What?" Marcia almost gasped. "How? When?"

"Well, "Joseph begun, teasingly, "When a woman and a man-"

Cashmére elbowed him, and he went silent. "So, Marcia," she asked, after almost crushing her fiancées ribs, "You're going to be an aunt."