The Ivory Knight

Chapter 16

PART II

Adeleina coughed pointedly in an attempt to remind the seamstress that the corset was much too tight. Really, what was with newfangled attempt to slims women's waists with a whale bone? Adeleina wheezed loudly. 

"My apologies, my lady," the dumpy old lady behind her said, loosening the strings marginally. Adeleina cast a pleading look at Darcy, who laughed at her expense.

"This is why I'm never getting married," she said, wagging a chiding finger at Adeleina. "I'll be perfectly happy staying an old maid forever." She ignored the scandalized look a passing maid shot her. Adeleina laughed, despite the crushing embrace of the sharp bones in her corset.

"I didn't ask for this!" Adeleina yelped as one of the frantic maids very nearly stabbed her with a needle. 

"Oh-hoh!" Darcy exclaimed.

"What?"

"Nothing, I only felt like saying oh-hoh. Oh-hoh!" Darcy said giddily, prancing around the room. Adeleina didn't know if she wanted to cry in exasperation or laugh with amusement.

"I don't know why you're so excited. It's my wedding," she groused. She stopped trying to cry and laugh at the same time and settled for a scowl.

"Wait 'til you see the decorations-- and food!" Darcy clapped gleefully.

Several hours (though to Adeleina, they certainly felt like centuries) later, Adeleina was finally as dressed up and as powdered as a porcelein doll. She peeked through her veil at Darcy.

"Well?" she asked, picking impatiently at her waist. By the gods, this corset was unbearable! Outside, she could hear the voices of hundreds of nobles chirping as the great hall flooded with guests. Where her father had found so many lords, ladies, dukes, duchesses, knights and merchants to invite to a wedding on such short notice, Adeleina did not know.

"Hmm," Darcy said, eyeing Adeleina's garb. "You'll do, I suppose."

"Thank you," Adeleina snorted. "Your support is truly--"

She was cut off by the sound of music. It floated through the sealed doors before her and reverberated through the room, like an ever-penetrating cloud. Adeleina thought she was going to faint.

"Oh my gods." Her voice came out as a hoarse rasp. She clutched at Darcy's arm. "How angry do you think my father would be if I ran out of here right now?"

"Very angry. Get off my arm and stop sweating like a whore in church." Adeleina couldn't find it in herself to reprimand Darcy for her coarse language. She was too busy trying to avoid a heart attack.

Against her fervent wishes, the overly-ornate door leading to her doom flung open. A fat old man without a single hair on his head stood before her, his smile wider than his waist. 

"Announcing Princess Adeleina of Corandell, Daughter of Aiden of Corandell, Bride of Damien of Dale, Young Sovereign of The Kingdom of the Dove!" he cried in one breath. 

"Go!" Darcy hissed when Adeleina found herself frozen to the spot. Her feet had somehow gained several hundred pounds-- not that the rest of her body minded. Darcy gave her the smallest of shoves, and, in a state of absolute terror and surrealism, Adeleina entered the hall. She was as white as marble, surely, for why else would all of these people be watching her so peculiarly? Or perhaps they weren't watching her at all! Adeleina couldn't tell. 

It must have taken her thousands of years to reach the steps, but at the same time, it seemed to have taken no time at all. A whispy old priest, tufts of white hair lining his temple, stood there. Damien was there, too. Adeleina found a little bit of solace in that he seemed to be as terrified as she was; his face was drained of color, and his hand seemed to be unconsciously scrubbing the back of his neck. His eyes made contact with hers for a fraction of a second; then, they darted away.

"We are here today, in the presence of four-hundred and fifty-three persons, in the year fourteen thirty-three, under the house of the dove of Corandell to celebrate the joyous union of the house of the dove and the house of the boar," the priest began, droning the words as if he'd said them a thousand times before. He probably had. Joyous indeed! "May the gods grant us happiness," He tossed a handful of small white things at Damien and Adeleina, who took a while to realize that they were flower petals. "May they grant us enduring loyalty, honor, empathy, patience..." With every word, the priest threw a different handful of petals at Adeleina and Damien. Soon, they were covered in head to toe with the heavily-fragranted stuff, and Adeleina was forced to hold in a sneeze several times. Really, was this neccessary? Adeleina vowed to have an angry word with her father about this. Surely he could change the law or something.

"May Princess Adeleina of Corandell and the First Prince Damien of Dale join in this union of sovereigns, for the good and the better of their houses, for the approvement of the gods, for the..." At this point, Adeleina stopped listening. Instead, she began wishing the old man would speak faster. Then, she wished wedding vows didn't take ages and ages to recite. They were empty words, really, meant to please no one but the gods. What was the point? Adeleina caught several of the guests drooping in their seats, evidently only at the wedding out of courtesy. Adeleina wouldn't have blamed them if they'd nodded off.

"Does Damien of Dale agree to uphold and defend his honor, to never stray from this bond to his wife--" Adeleina choked slightly here-- "To forgive her sins should she commit, to cherish this union with his heart, sould and mind, until death?"

"I, Damien of Dale, agree to do all that you state." Damien's voice did not match the rest of his composition. It was calm, solid, and utterly without trace of doubt. 

"Does Adeleina of Corandell agree to devote herself to this man, to protect and defend his honor, to never stray from this bond to her husband, to forgive his sins should he commit, to cherish this union with her heart, soul, and mind, until death?" Adeleina seethed at the different choicing of words. Why didn't he ask Damien to not devote himself to her? 

"I, Adeleina of Corandell, agree to do all that you state," she managed to wheeze. Thank goodness her tutor had drilled the line into her head so often that she could have said it asleep. Otherwise, her nerves might have won over, and she'd be left standing on the steps like a mute fool.

"Has any person in the witnesses an objection to these agreements?" the priest asked in that horribly dull, monotonous buzz of his. No one spoke up, and the chilly silence was like that of a tomb. Adeleina shuddered-- with what, she did not know.

"May Adeleina of Corandell and Damien of Dale now be presented as--"

"Oh, hold on," someone broke in. Adeleina grew cold with panic, hot with excitement. She knew that voice. She knew that voice well.

Heads turned to the back of the great hall. The priest stopped muttering, and he scratched at his open jaw. Obviously, he was not used to being interrupted.

"I have an objection to the agreements," the interrupter said. Adeleina didn't dare turn to see. Why was he here? What was he doing? 

But she couldn't help herself. Perhaps it wasn't truly him, just some drunk baron. Perhaps he was still at the Winging Dove's Inn. There was simply no way. It was impossible.

Wrong.

There Alecsander stood, his hunter's tunic and riding breeches so out of place amongst the fine cloth of the nobility. 

Her mouth fell open. This was her worst nightmare, her wildest dream. She wanted to tell him to stop, to ask him what he was doing, but the words could not come. Nothing could come. The hall was deathly silent, and Adeleina suddenly knew what she she'd been shuddering from. It didn't feel like a wedding in here, despite the festive banners and the brightly clad nobles. It felt like a funeral before the death happened. There was something wrong with Alecsander; his smile was too wide, his pose was too relaxed. When he spoke, the air itself seemed to go cold as winter.

"I don't think they should get married," he said, his eyes burning holes through Adeleina. "They're a piss-poor couple, wouldn't you say?"

That was when the knife went through King Corandell's neck.