Elena looked out the window, the crowd of noblemen and dignitaries below growing minute by minute. She saw flashes of light as the dying sun reflected off the jewelry worn by the women and from the elaborately decorated sword sheaths fastened to the men's sides. She sighed and turned away from the window, catching sight of herself in the large mirror, her elaborately painted face staring back at her amid a sea of white satin and lace. Elena looked down at her wedding dress, fighting back tears as she remembered how she once imagined her wedding day, the glaring differences like knives, cutting her everytime she breathed. For one thing, she thought to herself, the marriage she imagined was not one of convenience and secondly, her parents would be there.
The thought of her parents caused her brave faΓ§ade to crumble. Tears leaked from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, as the reality sunk in, that she was going to walk down the aisle alone.
"Princess, oh don't! Please don't cry!" Catherine called from across the bedroom. Elena turned to look at the young girl, who walked quickly towards her and began dabbing her face and eyes with a handkerchief. At first Elena was somewhat touched at Catherine's attempt to sooth her, until she realised that Catherine was more worried that Elena would ruin the soft tones and colours she had spent hours applying to Elena's face.
"Thank you Catherine, but I can do that myself," Elena said somberly, taking the handkerchief from her. "You are excused now, I'm ready," she said, dabbing her eyes.
"I'm sorry Princess, but King Henry ordered me to stay by your side until the ceremony starts."
Elena turned away from the mirror and faced Catherine. "There is no need for that, I hereby relieve you of your duties for the rest of the evening."
Catherine bit her lip, clearly undecided. "I'm sorry Princess, but I don't think I can do that, King Henry - " she started to say before Elena cut her off.
"FINE," Elena said, exasperated. "But I need a few minutes alone, please. If you wish, you may stand outside the door until I call you in or the ceremony is about to commence."
Catherine, hesitated for a few moments, but she curtsied and walked quickly from the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Elena walked back to the window, noting that the crowd was now streaming into the castle gardens, where a great number of chairs had been placed on the grass, with a long white gap separating the seats into two clusters. Looking closer, Elena saw that the whiteness was in fact a long stretch of silk that started from within the castle and ended on a raised dais. She shivered suddenly, the reality of her situation thrown into sharp relief before her very eyes. Elena's heart started to pound as she knew that soon enough there would be a sharp knock on the door, starting the chain of events that caused her throat to run dry and her heart to race.
Turning back to the mirror, Elena dug her nails into her palms, willing herself to calm down. "You lived in the forest on your own for years, you can surely survive a wedding," she said to her own reflection.
A soft knock on the door, which opened, without waiting for an invitation. "Princess," Catherine said, her face alight with excitement, "the ceremony is starting."
Elena sighed and reached out a trembling hand for the bouquet of purple flowers that lay on her bed. In her opinion, they were quite ugly, but the flower is somehow significant to the Kravaolian nation and the man assigned to the running of the whole affair said that it would offend too many guests for it to be overlooked. In the grand scheme of things, Elena thought it insignificant and backed down from her request to change the floral bouquet.
Catherine opened the door wide, stepping back as Elena passed through it. She scurried around behind her, fixing Elena's veil and fluffing out the skirts of her dress unnecessarily. As Elena walked through the hallways and down the grand staircase, she barely noticed the flowers that covered every surface or the red and golden hangings draped over many pieces of furniture. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other - nothing more and nothing less.
At the doorway leading to the gardens, she was stopped by Catherine, who quickly pulled her veil over her head, adjusting it so that is sat just right. Elena was grateful for the veil, as the fabric was rather thick - preventing her from having to look to closely at her guests and vice-versa. Elena took a deep shuddering breath as another Lorrean custom came to her, the father's blessing. It was customary for the father to bless the bride and then lower the veil himself. She shook her head and clenched her jaw, which helped her get her emotions under control.
"Princess Elena?" asked an unfamiliar voice to her left.
"Yes?" Elena croaked, her throat suddenly as dry as sand.
"Good," said the voice. He cleared his throat and announced loudly to the courtyard at large, "Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses, distinguished guests. I present to you, Elena, the former princess of Lorrea."
Somewhere to Elena's right, someone blew a short blast of trumpet, causing her to jump slightly.
"Go," whispered Catherine from behind her, prodding her back.
Elena's feet felt encased in lead, rather than the woven material that they were actually wrapped in.
"Just get it over with," she mumbled to herself.
Elena stumbled forwards, her pace picking up as she swept up the aisle, looking nowhere but at her feet. In a few short seconds, she arrived at the dais, her breath coming in shallow, quick bursts. Elena covered the trembling of her hands by gripping the stems of the flowers more tightly.
Suddenly, a large strong hand cupped her elbow, essentially lifting her up to the dais. She looked up and could vaguely make out the towering shape of King Henry standing beside her.
"The veil, King Henry," said a rasping voice in front of her.
Elena saw Henry's fingers grasp the veil lightly, before he lifted the material swiftly over her head. Elena looked up slowly, to find Henry staring at her with a large smile. Elena couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the look on Henry's face - was it triumph? She couldn't tell. She didn't spend much time thinking about it though, as she was taken aback at how well groomed Henry looked - by far the most handsome she'd seen him. He wore a sharp looking shirt of sky-blue colour, over form fitting white pants which were fastened at the waist by a thick belt which held a large golden, ruby encrusted sword. Atop his dark hair sat a golden crown, sparkling in the dying light of the evening. As much as Elena hated to admit it, he really DID look quite dashing - no doubt her mother would have been thrilled with their pairing. Elena shook her head at the memory of her mother, getting a handle on the emotions that were bubbling beneath the surface - she wasn't going to cry in front of so many people.
"The bouquet," rasped the small, ancient looking man in front of her.
A hand, belonging to someone Elena had never seen before, gently tugged the flowers from her grasp.
"King Henry, take her hand in yours," instructed the frail man.
Henry covered Elena's shaking right hand with his massive left hand. The small man bent forwards and started to wind a long strip of silk around their hands, tying them together.
"King Henry," the man wheezed. "Is this the bride of your choosing?"
"Yes," he said confidently, squeezing Elena's hand in what she could only imagine he thought to be a reassuring gesture.
Elena's jaw clenched. In Lorrean weddings, the bride was asked for her consent too. However, the man whose job it was to oversee the whole wedding day, explained to her that Kravaolian law did not require the consent of the woman in question. Elena had fumed for quite some time when she realised that she would have no say in her own wedding ceremony.
"And what be her name?" asked the man, snapping Elena back to the present.