Swinging the door wide open, Jamas looked out at the colorful assembly for each wore his family's heraldic colors. Every one of them was six foot or more and athletic in appearance. Even Temeron had a martial bearing.
"We'll make a fine show," he said, nodding approval.
"A fine show indeed," Grenejon murmured for the prince's hearing alone and chuckled.
"Easy now, the doing's yet to be done," and with that the Prince of Esphania strode forth to his wedding.
A WEDDING IS A WEDDING, and that of a popular prince is even more an occasion for rejoicing. This wedding also included the prince's official coronation and that of his bride. Fortunately, he could and had chosen the short forms so he could get to the important part of his wedding sooner. Everyone in Esphania was there, except Niffy, who had other plans for this day.
The bride arrived precisely on time, on her uncle's arm, looking so ethereal in her gauzy dress and lacy veil that Jamas thought his heart would burst. He was not ashamed to find tears in his eyes.
It seemed to take forever for the procession to bring her to him, for she had twelve attendants and two flower girls and two lads bearing on one pillow the rings and on the other the coronets. Jamas eyed the two boys most severely. They were the sons of Duchess Fanina, and obnoxious little scuts, or so he had found out when he caught them mercilessly mistreating puppies in his stable. They rolled their eyes when they saw him watching and started taking their duties more seriously.
Then, finally, King Egdril bestowed the Lady Willow's hand in his. Lady Laurel took her place beside her sister and Grenejon, as best man, turned by his prince. What no one else but the participants and the celebrant knew was that this was a double wedding ceremony: Laurel had agreed to Gren's persuasions.
The ceremony, with Willow's slender fingers tightly clasping Jamas', seemed to be over all too soon and he was kissing his bride. Grenejon would have to wait to perform that ritual when the wedding party retired to the chancel to sign the register but Bishop Wodarick had accepted their whispered responses to the usual wedding vows. If his blessing was more expansive, taking in the other pair, no one noticed it particularly.
As best man, of course, Grenejon had to escort the maid of honor, and that was when they exchanged their rings.
Back out, with only a quick sip of wine to sustain them through the next part of the ceremony, and Jamas and Willow were crowned Prince and Princess of Esphania.
The oaths of fealty from the nobles were limited to the Duke of Brastock as the oldest of the nobles, the Earl of Moxtell, Count Fennell, and Baron Illify, all swearing allegiance to prince and princess on behalf of others of their rank. The Lord Mayor of Esphania City handled the one for the citizenry.
Then, the congregation-already on their feet-let out the traditional cheers as the prince and princess made their way down the aisle and to the waiting carriage.
In the very next coach rode Grenejon and Lady Laurel, to the consternation of Duchess Fanina, who thought she and her brother-in-law should have been the next passengers. Egdril, with a little help from Moxtell, Fennell, and Brastock, smoothed the whole thing over.
Fanina's expression suggested that she would have a word or two with the impudent best man and maid of honor-though somehow or other, she never did.
The wedding feast would go down in Epicurean annals for that decade. The subtleties were fantastic, the viands incredible-especially considering the numbers who dined. Frenery had outdone himself-as had the leading citizens of Esphania who had been unstinting in the supplies of food, the labor required, and in general the organization, so that everyone within the city, be they guest, resident, or innocent traveller, ate to satiation that night.
If the guests in the castle banqueting hall also noticed that the prince and princess fed each other from a single plate and drank from a single cup, it was considered "sweet" and "loverly." Though why Duchess Fanina frowned so much was not immediately apparent.
"They dare not poison me, too, you see," Willow murmured to her brand new husband.
"Do stop fretting, my love…"
"You simply won't believe me," Willow said with a tremulous note in her voice.
He folded his hand around her fingers. "I do, love, I do. And have taken steps to ensure my continued existence. Please, my love, at least enjoy your sister's wedding." He smiled mischievously at her.
"Oh, you!" and she started to laugh, glancing over her shoulder at Grenejon and Laurel, who were observing more decorous behavior in their manner of eating.
Before there could be the dancing which Jamas looked forward so much to, there were the toasts and the speeches to be sat through. But Frenery had had severe notice from his prince to limit these as much as possible. Only King Egdril, waffling on about the union between the two great nations, did not observe the restriction. But then, no one had mentioned it to him.
At last, when the chamber group was augmented by the full orchestra which would play dance music, the prince and his princess retired briefly so that she could remove her cumbersome train for dancing. They, of course, had the first dance, in which they acquitted themselves to the onlookers' delight. If Princess Willow had resumed her veil, no one thought it odd. The prince handed his partner to her uncle and bowed before Duchess Fanina, adjusting his white gloves before he took her hand. Two circles of the floor and the Duke of Moxtell requested the pleasure of Duchess Fanina's company, and the prince relinquished her with a show of reluctance. And, shucking the gloves off his hands, he deposited them behind a plant. Few noticed that it wilted and died that night.
Then everyone started dancing and, if the prince slipped off for a moment, he was back on the floor very shortly, claiming a dance with each bridesmaid in turn. If he did not appear as graceful in these turns as he usually did, by then there had been sufficient wine drunk that it passed unnoticed.
Indeed it was fairly late into the evening that people began to realize that they had not seen the princess dancing, nor Baron Illify and Lady Laurel. And when the Duchess Fanina archly told her brother-in-law, the king, that it was time to bed the happy couple, it was Egdril who noticed that the "prince" was really Prince Temeron, dressed in his cousin's finery, who had been partnering the bridesmaids. As these young ladies were all from Mauritia, they had not recognized the deception.
"Well, you see, your majesty," Temeron began, casting about to find Frenery or Moxtell or someone of greater rank than he held to support him in this explanation, "my cousin, Prince Jamas, is not a great one for ceremony and the, ah, um…"
"Bedding," Moxtell put in, arriving to assist the inexperienced courtier.
"Yes, that was one he particularly wanted to avoid."
The Duchess Fanina did not speak but, almost as if the movement was being choreographed, those nearest her moved back, leaving her isolated in a small empty circle.
"One could almost feel the heat of her anger," Temeron later told his cousin. "She was really, really mad."
Jamas only laughed and thanked his cousin again for standing in for him.
THE KING WAS NOT best pleased about this unexpected departure and shirking of "dynastic duty" but Brastock and Moxtell managed to jolly him out of his displeasure. And one of the Fennell daughters was only too happy to dance with him… all night long. And, as it happened, as long as he was in Esphania, which did not make him eager to return to his moody pregnant wife.
MEANWHILE BOTH couples had made good their escape: Baron and Baroness Illify to his estate and the Prince and Princess of Esphania to a long-unused but newly refurbished lodge high up on the Elbow. Jamas' great-grandfather had used it when overseeing the construction of the landslide nets.