My Sister's Prince

Chapter Six:

     "To the Queen!" Someone at the feast shouted out, prompting the partygoers to raise their glasses and "huzzah." 

     With a shaky hand, Eulalie lifted her glass of champagne and smiled meekly to the crowd. Her cheeks felt sore from all the forceful smiling she'd equipped them for that day. Beside her, Alaric, now the King of Absalon, held her other hand in his own, running a reassuring thumb over the pulsating skin. She couldn't believe that this man was her husband, and even more, he was also the King! She hadn't quite processed that she was his Queen yet, she would tackle that bit of information in the morning. 

     She gulped as she remembered that her duties as a bride were far from over. After they had finished eating, she and Alaric were to go upstairs to his quarters and consummate their marriage. Now was one of the few but increasingly frequent times in which she envied her sister's years of preparation and training. She looked to the crowds, hoping to see her sister's face, but remembered that her she wasn't there.

     Her mother had refused to attend the wedding, additionally forbidding the rest of the Fennelwick clan to attend as well. Eulalie was all alone, at the mercy of these strange people in this strange place. Her mind dashed to the past couple of weeks.

     

     Refusing to speak to her, the Duchess of Fennelwick scooped up her belongings, her eldest daughter, and her entourage, and made for the south, back to their estate. With a sorry goodbye, Eulalie said a tearful farewell to her sister as she stayed behind to venture into the unknown. 

     The next few weeks felt a lot like a crash course in Queen 101. Desperate to make up for lost time, the Queen Mother administered Eulalie's royal lessons herself. From dusk to dawn, Eulalie's days were filled with wedding planning, lessons, dress fittings, room decorating, any and every insufferable, stuffy indoor task imaginable.

     Getting to know her future mother-in-law, Eulalie finally understood why she'd heard so many jokes and complaints about in-laws over the years. Queen Violet had immediately made it known to Eulalie that she was displeased with her son's choice of bride. She held back no punches as she made it clear she longed for her son to return to his senses and honor the original engagement to the other Fennelwick sister. 

     Queen Violet was the one who woke Eulalie up in the mornings, abruptly tearing open her curtains to allow the light to come in with full force. She picked out Eulalie's outfits, assuring her that she'd never understand the etiquette at court fast enough to be able to dress herself before the wedding. It was often that Eulalie found herself inappropriately dressed in attire that the Queen herself had selected. 

     During their lessons, the Queen droned on and on, not allowing Eulalie to ask questions, and chastising her at every practice assignment that she failed. "Honestly, Lady Eulalie, how do you expect to marry a man such as my son with such poor manners? Again!" She insisted, pushing Eulalie's energy and patience to the very limit. Eulalie's daily lessons consisted of manners, geography, history, political science, and needlepoint (because of course). 

     To Eulalie's credit, she excelled at her studies of the kingdom, it's politics and history. What drove her throughout her lessons, as well as her arduous days with her future mother-in-law, was the idea of Alaric at the end of it all. Every time she was scolded by Queen Violet or reprimanded for putting her elbows on the table at tea, she reminded herself of her soon-to-be husband, of the coronation that would hopefully silence her mother-in-law, and the future that she and Alaric would share. 

     Thankfully, her mother had enough kindness in her to think to leave her beloved Albertine behind, though she never really liked Eulalie's mischievous horse anyways. Never the less,  it was a rare day that Eulalie had enough free time or irresponsible chaperones for her to sneak off to the stables. 

     At the start and end of these grueling days, Eulalie dined with Alaric and the rest of the royal household in the dining hall. It was these moments, sitting across from her future husband at the table, that Eulalie was reminded what it was all for. When she saw Alaric's smile, heard his stories, or felt his hand hold hers, she remembered that soon, when she and Alaric were married, this would all be over and worth it. 

     In a gown that reminded Eulalie of a gargantuan layer cake, one that Eulalie hadn't had a say in selecting, Eulalie finally walked down the aisle towards her betrothed. Her eyes scanned the crowd from under her veil for any familiar faces, but came up short. The only sight for her sore eyes rested at the end of the aisle, and he was wearing an impeccable white suit with golden epaulettes lining his broad shoulders. His hair was curled and neat, and the sunlight streaming through the cathedral's stained glass windows painted his face a variety of colors. 

     To Eulalie, none of this wedding-her wedding-looked familiar. While she had been dragged along by the Queen to fittings, tastings, florist's, and meetings with designers, it was the Queen who had the final say before the items made it to the cathedral. Even her gorgeous brown locks, which Eulalie had favored having them flow down her back, were pulled and primped into some ridiculous updo that stretched the skin above her brows. 

     She noticed as she walked down the aisle that none of the design suggestions she had made were followed through. She begged the Queen for a bouquet of peonies, as they were her favorite and reminded ger of home, but when she looked down, she saw a dark, dramatic posy of red roses. 

     She had written home, begging her father to walk her down the aisle, but too afraid of incurring the wrath of Eulalie's mother, the Duke of Fennelwick ignored all of his favorite daughter's correspondence. She wanted to cry as she thought about her father and his refusal to come, but the King was walking her down to the front of the church, and she didn't want him to think she had cold feet about marrying his son. 

      Finally, the two arrived at the apse of the cathedral, and the King removed Eulalie's veil as she was offered to Alaric. Alaric had tears in his eyes, and he mouthed "beautiful," to her as the veil was removed. Eulalie blushed, the attendees of the ceremony were seated, and the vicar began to speak. 

     "We are gathered here today..." He droned as he read from a large, leather-bound book. Eulalie's heart was fluttering with nerves so loudly, however, that she couldnt' hear him. All she could think about was remembering to say and do the right things, so as to not anger the Queen. She was so caught up in remembering the traditions of the wedding that Alaric had to give her hand a squeeze to snap her back into the present. 

     "Repeat after me," the vicar said, and Eulalie noticed the man's unruly unibrow and yellowing teeth. He looked like a gerbil, she thought, and her nerves seemed to subside slightly. "I, Lady Eulalie of Fennelwick, take thee, Prince Alaric...." 

     Eulalie followed the vicar's directions, repeating her vows and placing the solid gold ring on her husband's long fingers. When the time came for the vicar to announce "you may now kiss the bride," the couple was overcome with joy. Alaric practically jumped out of his skin to grip his blushing bride, pressing his lips to hers with so much force and happiness that Eulalie felt nearly intoxicated. 

     There were a couple of "whoo's" and giggles from the audience, but Eulalie didn't care. This was the part that she had been waiting for. She kissed her husband back without hesitation, snaking her unsure tongue around his warm mouth as he did the same. Still hungry for more, the two begrudgingly pulled away when they heard an "ahem" from beside them.

     The King and Queen had removed their crowns, wearing much more understated bands around the tops of their heads signifying their connection to royalty. They were holding their heavy crowns in their hands, expectantly waiting for the couple to resume the next part of the ceremony.

     Eulalie was so caught up in the kiss that she had nearly forgotten about the second part of the day's events, her coronation. She bowed to the Queen as she felt the heavy gold crown press against her hair. With the updo the Queen had insisted she wear, the crown's placement felt awkward and unsteady. When Eulalie righted herself and rose from her bow, the crown wobbled and nearly fell off her head.

     "Careful, your Majesty," the Queen hissed in a low breath, "wouldn't want to lose that, now would we?" She asked before replacing the crown atop Eulalie's head.