Alistaire held Sofia's hand as they walked through the town square. They both kept their heads down, cloaks pulled over their eyes, to conceal their identity. They avoided the nearest town to Macdonald castle to be safe, but Alistaire tended to be on the paranoid side when it came to caution. Witnessing the horrors of war as a young child had made him that way. When they reached the chapel Sofia threw back her cloak and released an excited squeal.
The chapel was small, and bare. It was lined with wooden pews, and a wooden altar was erected at the far end of the room. The rafters were weather worn and leaking rain mixed with sunlight onto the creaking wooden floors. When the stout man, with a long grey beard, and brown robes entered through a side door behind the altar, Alistaire finally pulled back his cloak.
The plump priest took in the rain drenched couple. He surmised by the smiling face of the young lass and the weary yet determined face of the man towering beside her, they were here on a matter of matrimony.
"May I help you?" He inquired. Alistaire stepped forward.
"We wish to be married at once." He looked over to the young lass who was grinning from ear to ear.
"You consent to marry this man, lass?" She nodded her head emphatically.
"Follow me, then." He turned and approached the humble altar.
Alistaire and Sofia clasped both of their hands together and faced each other.
"I don't suppose either of you have a ring?"
Sofia shook her head, but Alistaire reached into his cloak and pulled out a shimmering gold ring with a brilliant ruby resting on top. Sofia gasped when she saw it.
"This was my mother's ring," he whispered.
A tear slid down Sofia's cheek.
"'Tis beautiful," she choked out.
Alistaire slid it onto her ring finger. It was a perfect fit. The priest led them through the sacred vows and they took turns reciting them to each other, all while holding each other's gaze.
After they said "I do" Alistaire scooped his wife into his arms and spun her around. She shrieked with excitement and pure bliss, which he quickly swallowed with his mouth. Their kiss was deep and passionate, sealing the covenant they had just made to one another. She belonged to him and he to her.
No one, no clan, no threat of war, would keep them apart. Once he set her down they intertwined their hands and left the chapel. The priest inside shook his head, laughing to himself and mumbling about young love as he returned to his duties.
YOU ARE READING
Embers in the Snow
Historical Fiction*Heir of the Highlands- Book 1* The MacLeod and the MacDonald's long history is written in blood. In a desperate attempt for peace between the rival clans, the only daughter of Fergus MacLeod- infamous and formidable Laird of the MacLeod clan, is fo...
