Let Me Hold You

1- The Wedding Reception

Riftan smoothed his hair back as he followed several Croix knights from his chambers to the temple. His hair kept falling to the right despite his attempts to comb it all morning – a last ditch effort to try to look decent for his wedding. He could barely wrap his mind around the fact that he was about to see Maximillian in a wedding gown. 

I'm going to be a married man by the end of today. 

He felt his shoulders tremble as he and the knights walked down several staircases and towards the entrance of the temple. And there she was waiting. His bride to be was facing the alter, her fiery hair was carefully tied up on a soft bun, small curls escaping from the sides. Her white gown stood out amid the colorfully dressed nobles who had shown up to the spectacle of witnessing the mixed low born knight marry the beloved and fragile daughter of Duke Croix. 

One of the Croix knights nudged Riftan from behind and he slowly made his way to the alter and stood beside Maximillian. His chest ached as he saw her dark circles and the deep gray eyes that welled up as she gazed at him. He tried to catch his breathe, disappointed at how sad and scared she looked.  

I didn't ask for this either. He wanted to tell her. 

"The ceremony will now begin."

Bride and groom stepped towards the front of the altar. The scripture reading droned on for what felt like an eternity as Riftan focused on the statues adorning the temple. His body felt as if it was vibrating, he hadn't been this close to Maximillian in years. He wanted to reach out and take her hand when he felt her sleeve fall on his hand, but he resisted. Afraid to startle her, or to make a mockery of himself if she pulled away. 

"Riftan Calypse, do you swear before God that you will take Maximillian Croix as your wife, cherish her, and care for her as long as you both shall live?"

Riftan quietly exhaled and felt the stillness of the room as everyone waited for him to respond. 

"I swear."

"Maximillian Croix, do you swear before God that you will take Riftan Calypse as your husband, and obey him as long as you both shall live?"

Maximillian's reply was barely audible.

"I swe-swear..."

The priest then announced them a married couple. 

"You may now kiss your bride."

Riftan stared at the priest in shock. Yesterday the Duke had quickly briefed him on the ceremony with a scornful smile on his face, laughing when he told Riftan that at the very least he wouldn't have to kiss his daughter in front of everyone. The priest must have forgotten. 

He heard Maximillian breathe in sharply. Riftan turned to look down at her while she looked up at him. Her eyes widened, as if begging him to hurry so that it would be over with. She clearly didn't want to be there in front of everyone else for much longer. Riftan reached out with trembling fingers and cradled her face against his hands. His copper skin contrasted against his cream colored cheeks as he carefully bent down and gently pressed his lips on hers. Her sweet scent filled his nose. She smelled like soft white flowers. Like the first buds of spring. Like the cooling shade under an oak tree. 

The nobles gasped, stood up, and clapped their hands at the show. Riftan avoided looking into her eyes, he wanted to apologize for kissing her so abruptly and wiped the cold sweat from his palms and wondered if they had felt wet and clammy to Maximillian when he had touched her face. 

"What are you doing there standing around? There is a wedding reception waiting."

The Duke of Croix told them with a cruel smile, as if mocking them. The Duke reminded Riftan of his duty. Riftan nodded, clenching his jaw and simply followed the Duke into the reception hall as he heard Maximillian's timid steps behind them. They were seated at the head of a long table as guests either sat at the table eating from the piles of expensive food or wandered around the hall clutching goblets of wine. 

Riftan's glass was filled and he swallowed its' contents in two gulps as he tried to steady his nerves. He glanced at Maximillian at his right. She looked down at her glass, barely touching her wine. He licked his lips and tried to talk. 

"Are you alright?"

He half whispered. She turned to him, almost shocked that he had acknowledged her. She nodded. Her sprinkling of freckles stood out against her pale skin and her cheeks took an a rosy hue. More of her curls had fallen out of the updo and it made her look like a classic painting from the Roem era. Riftan wanted to lead her away from the reception. He wanted to explain himself to this small trembling woman. But mainly, he wanted to ask if she remembered him at all. His glass of wine was refilled by an attendant, he picked it up and tried to drink it slowly. 

The rest of the night was a blur. Uslin found him and pulled him aside just as the nobles had reached peak intoxication. He looked over his shoulder as he walked away from the table. Maximillian looked smaller as she sat there alone. Their eyes met. He tried to smile a little just to reassure her but his face felt too stiff. 

He followed Uslin to a corner and heard updates regarding his step-father's new family. Uslin and Riftan argued over him stepping down as commander. He couldn't bear to lead his subordinates into what seemed like certain death. 

"We'd follow you anywhere, Commander... even if we wish it was the Duke who was headed towards death instead of us." 

The Duke eventually interrupted their conversation. Riftan had never wanted to punch anyone in the teeth so badly. He vividly imagined the Duke's knees buckling underneath him and hearing the satisfying crunch as his fist made contact with the Duke's nose. Riftan was pulled out of his fantasy. 

"It's time to enter the marital room." 

The Duke smirked, and led the way down a long corridor. For the first time in a long time Riftan felt nauseous. He followed along on stiff legs and prayed that he wouldn't mess this up.