To Drown In Icy Depths

A banquet for the Lady of Abluvion

You may kiss the bride.

These are the words the pope would normally say after the vows are made, these are the words that go unspoken.

They have been craftily outwritten from the usual script a priest follows ever since Lord Merikh didn't kiss Charis when they were married last year. People assumed this was because the marriage was for some sort of political gain, but the real reason was Abluvion sickness. Lord Merikh never meant to save Charis, or Lilura or Eveleen. Just like he doesn't intend to save me.

He turns to face me, the slim golden band with a single pearl instead of a diamond is in his hand. My ring. His ring is in my hand. Obviously.

He reaches forward and flips back the veil, revealing my face and Safira's tasteful makeup.

And then he is taking my right hand and slipping the ring onto my third finger, the cold metal combined with his gentle touch almost making me gasp. But I don't gasp, of course I don't, I slide his ring, a thicker golden pearl-less version of mine, onto his long elegant finger.

I look up at him and find his eyes already gazing at me, his faint smirk, well, less faint. What's he smiling about?

Everyone seated in the pews stands up and breaks into raucous applause, startling me out of my thoughts.

Taking my hand, Lord Merikh, my husband, leads me back down the aisle and to the banquet hall where everyone will enjoy a feast fit for King Alarik, the last Aurelian wedding tradition.

It's time for a banquet for the Lady of Abluvion.

***

I sit at the head of the long rosewood table, a seat of honour usually reserved for my parents, Lord and Lady Aurelia. At present they're at the opposite head of the table, surrounded by the other House nobles of their generation.

All the girls are on my side of the table, the boys (a little reluctantly) on Lord Merikh's side. Next to me is Winnow. She's from the House of Leocos, and has inherited their hereditary ivory coloured hair, pale and glossy. It contrasts strikingly with her caramel skin and sparkling bronze eyes.

Since white, her house's colour and what she would usually wear to a formal event, is reserved for the bride at weddings, her dress is silver, with a matching white jade necklace and rose earrings. She's beautiful, much like my sister, and perhaps my best friend of the house nobles.

Winnow is very kind, but at the same time she's feisty and sarcastic, making her a nice change from the other boring girls who only care about the latest fashions and wealth. What does it matter who has the most money? All the nobles are rich. And King Alarik is richest of all. Nothing will ever change that.

Next to Winnow is Solandis, a petite girl from the House of Halcyon with mahogany hair and a lacy lilac dress. She's probably next in line to be married Lord Merikh, poor thing.

Solandis gives off an aura of sweetness and chastity, but in reality she has a strong sense of humour that she likes to flaunt at gatherings like this.

The rest of the girls are unimportant. Pretty, mindless and rather evanescent. Except Verena.

She's of the House of Ered. Cruel and sharp with her cutting remarks and haughty demeanour, Verena sits next to Melian and Penninha (Solandis's sorry excuse of a sister), her two cronies. The two of them only follow her for fear of her formidable barrage of insults that they don't have the class or intelligence to repel. Why couldn't Lord Merikh marry one of them? No one would be much sorry to see them go. I for one would not.