Author's Note: The Emperor has to be fabulous too. He needs his costume porn! Also, this is a long chapter. Sorry about that.
***
Pale orange, pink, red and white roses were hung from the ceiling or kept in vases. They weren't the only types of flowers. There were also yellow and light purple crocuses, copper and coral peonies, allium blooms in every known color, and lilies of the valley. All these flowers put little hints of sweetness in the air, which mixed in with the light smoke from the candles.
Sitting in an arrangement not unlike the expectation for an Imperial Court meeting, honored guests in their splendid attire waited. Some of them looked slightly different, since they were from different parts of the Empire or even the world. One of the men had a turban with many jewels and cloud-like white feathers, plus a lovely golden robe with a purple sash. The boy attendants near him were in similar garb. They all had somewhat darker complexions than most of the men there, not that such a thing was a problem.
The only true problem was the height and width of some women's headdresses. Some people had to move their chairs just to get a proper view, which meant that other people had to move too because their space had been taken. Similar things had happened at court meetings, but it was more obvious here.
Important servants, musicians, and all other kinds of employees were in the throne room, each one either standing by or moving to keep things running well.
Princess Tuya and company, and the Empress Dowager and company, all stood near the throne, waiting. They were all in some of the best clothes and accessories they had. Even the little maids-in-waiting had broad headdresses. Their girlish braids even had a few bejeweled pins.
Their young little faces were haughty. They were still too young to know how to hide their egos in such a situation. It was as if they'd forgotten that they weren't the only ones looking important. For example, their mistresses each had little crowns on their heads, tucked into their own headdresses.
The little girls would remember their places soon.
Horns, drums, and bagpipes were suddenly played in a short, announcing tune. In the center, from the main doors, the Emperor arrived. A few steps behind him, each holding a box plated in gold, were his squires. To his right, tiny Rokas Butkus was trying not to cry. Honestly, the poor little child's face was pink. His eyes were wet. And he was sniffing. Borys was to the Emperor's left. He had a tired expression, but otherwise he seemed capable.
The Emperor was wearing a long gown with sleeves that fell a significant length past his hands. There was even a wing-like shape, not unlike the Testoan sleeves Rahela had worn on formal occasions before. The warm weather didn't matter. He was clearly flaunting his prosperity and power.
The gown was in a base of black, the deepest black. There was lush embroidery, which would've taken a very long time to complete. Costly indigo threads, outlined by gold, formed flowers and fruits. Silver wolves were chasing silver rabbits. Little red rubies, white pearls, and various spangles were sewn in as little bursts of extra color. The animals' eyes, a flower's stamen, a geometric border, those sorts of things.
A heavy belt of golden squares and large jewels was around his waist. Attached to that belt, there was a sword with a bejeweled handle and similarly encrusted sheath. His fingers, even a thumb, had what were likely the largest and most boastful rings in the whole room.
There were three necklaces. The first one was made of large, golden ovals and rectangles, each one with a few tiny and glittery stones in a seemingly random arrangement. Between each shape, there were larger stones. It might've had eighteen inches. The second necklace could've have around twenty-four inches. It was a complex chain of silver and gold links with many different angles. Some would've called it a birdcage chain. The third necklace might've had thirty inches, and it was a combination of things. Sections of birdcage chains like the previous necklace, sections of large stones set in precious metals, and sections of simple but costly and large beads. There were even three pendants of pearl clusters and dangling spangle chains.
Over his shoulders, held up behind him by a handful of servants, there was the famous indigo cape with the ermine lining and Yahsin Imperial Family's crest. His hair was smoothly braided with little gems pinned in, similar to those little maids-in-waiting. On the top of his head, there was a large crown. Hefty gold, massive stones that sparkled, points that ended with pearls, it looked as if one needed excellent strength in the neck to bear the weight of that crown. It also looked fairly old, but well cared for and still beautiful.
One of his hands held his golden scepter close to his body. He didn't wave it about. The musician's drums seemed to match his feet as he slowly marched down the rug. His shoes were gold with black velvet bows and round pearls.
The procession halted some distance from the platform bearing the throne. Then, carefully, they all had to turn around and move ahead a bit. The servants had to keep the cloak from twisting.
The music stopped.
From a door on one side of the room, a new man entered.
The music started again, but this time it was a little tune with flutes.
He was a priest from the largest river god temple in Yahsin. Two of his apprentices kept near him. The priest had a tall hat with fine silk patches in vertical rows. His gown had a pattern of silver and white that resembled flowing water. He quietly walked over to the throne and stood in a spot behind the Emperor's cloak.
Again, the music stopped.
The Emperor's arm outstretched, palm up. It was the arm holding the scepter. He pointed the orb at the tall doors in the back. Then he let the long handle slide down his grasp as he changed his arm's angle, putting the scepter in a vertical position. He tapped the rug with the scepter's end. It wasn't a very loud noise.
Those doors were opened again.
Horns, flutes, drums, lyres, tambourines. Slow but triumphant music.
The bride.
She was even slower than the Emperor had been, a cautious march, a prudent march.
Carrying a wooden box, Yana was on her right. Oksana was on her left. A little bit behind, there was Princess and Maid-in-Waiting Gabriella. That little girl was the only one wearing Testoan clothing. She looked so fragile and adorable with her long ribbon plaits and almost frightened expression. She likely thought she was in a fairy tale.
And the bride was like a fairy.
She moved with elegant purpose, likely with no vulgar thoughts, but her body was so delightfully womanly. She'd gained enough weight. She was back to her normal, pleasant figure. Her smaller waist enhanced the wider curves of her hips. Her bosom's shape, while adequately covered, was still eye-catching. She was holding a tiny bouquet of white roses at her belly. Her pale hands were clean and well groomed, the rings making them seem even smaller. Her arms were only just slender enough.
Her face was sad.
Her plump and pink lips were almost frowning. Her colorful eyes were downcast. There were a few faint lines in her brow and her nostrils were quivered every few seconds or so. It was as if the bride wanted to fall to the floor and weep.
She was the brightest star. The elegant little canvas that had been turned into a piece of art. The beautiful maiden dressed in the most honorable and ostentatious clothing and jewels. The bride that would soon have each piece of finery plucked and shucked away, bit by bit.
Perhaps one would think she was purposely trying to be solemn, or maybe one would think she was emotionally overwhelmed and wanted to cry from pure joy.
However, there was the idea that Princess Rahela was terribly uncomfortable in many ways, and she might even hate all the physical and metaphorical weight placed on her body.
Whatever the reason, by the time Rahela was halfway down the throne room's wide aisle, she'd seemed to calm her nerves enough to merely pout like an upset child.
At first, as the Emperor watched his bride march down the aisle, his eyes were ignited with lust. But then, as the little woman moved forward, something else mixed in with his feelings.
She was just ...
She was so cute! She was like a sad little baby puppy! She was a soft, whimpering little puppy with pale blonde fur and big, pretty eyes! She was the most darling little thing on this planet and the Emperor knew he had to appreciate that!
He almost grinned.
But something hid away any desire to grin.
It had the musicians stopping.
