To my Dearest Friend

the vows of an unintentional liar

Yves montague

I walk into the church, my palms are sweaty and my eyes are certainly not dry. Probably for all the wrong reasons though. I feel like I am underwater or inside a storm, everything is strange and I wish l could run from all of this but I wont! I made a promise to her and to myself, I will not break it, not now. now that I have so much to prove, I cannot and will embarras myself or my family. I am enough of a disappointment as is. I will have my honour, I will be a proud montague, or at least I will try.

I see Eleanor, she is pretty, she looks like a dream, she looks the way a mother would want her daughter to look on a wedding. I smile, she is truly beautiful, even I can see that. The dress is made from the beatiful expensive silk and the top shelf lace. It is such a beautiful dress but so simple, I love it. Everything about it reflects Eleanor perfectly. My eye meet hers and we meet eachother in the middle.

My heart is racing but not in the way most hearts race when they stand here. Or at least I hope most hearts don't race like this. Do I have second thoughts? What if we turn into my parents with a hateful, loving, bitter marriage full of contradicitions and hatred. I pray for the first time in quite a while, I ask Him for strength as I commit this strange sin, I do not even know whether it is one. Of course I know God wouldn't help you commit sin but perhaps it will give me the strength I need, perhaps he will show eleanor the mercy she deserves.

My ears hear the vows being said and I hear myself distantly agreeing to them. Although I am not here in thought my vow sounds genuine. I look into Eleonore eyes and see my duty towards Frances, and as the reverent is done speaking we exchange a tender kiss. Nothing passionate but also nothing too formal. Enough to fool anybody who wants to be fooled but enought to keep both of us comfortable.

My eyes find Frances as they gleam in the sunlight that is falling through the stained glass windows. I smile at her and she smiles back, it is a smile that could show so much gratitude. I love her smile. I look at Cyril, I see that he is trying his best not to cry. I am too. I love him so, I wish he knew, I wish I could show him, I smile and he smiles back, such a beautiful smile. I cannot believe the reality of our lives. I do not know whether I expected it out or I thought I would never ever marry. And still even though this is not the life I wished for I feel like the reason I have done it is something I could forgive myself for. And even if the man upstairs doesn't forgive me for it I'll proudly burn.

I help frances into the carriage. I take a deep breath as I sit down, Eleanor sighs with a chuckle. 'Well that was quite peculiar' She says as she begins to laugh to ease the tension. 'Very strange indeed!' I say with a smile. 'So, now that you are married. Will you continue with cyril? she asks. I frown. 'I did not know you knew.' the smiles, 'come on Yves. the way you look at him...' I chuckle. 'Is it that obvious? Well, perhaps, I really would not know Eleanor, I think I do not have an answer to my own feelings.' She nods. 'I think he love you ' I feel a tear in my eye. I know he loves me.

Cyril Courtenay

We are waiting for the bride and groom while we are talking. We are on the family estate and having glass of champagne while talking to some old friends. The conversations are as interesting as chewing on newspaper. But some people succeed in being less than annoying. Like dear akiva.

Whom I am talking to, he's extremely kind to me which to be frank I do not understand. How does he continue being kind to everyone he meets. He really is an extraordinary person and has been a great friend to Yves while I was gone.

I am walking through the crowd and telling then where to sit, the bride and groom should be here in a few minutes when I suddenly see a familiar face. "Cyril' He says as he kisses me on both cheeks. 'It's so great to see you Émile' I exclaim but I feel incredibly uneasy. 'You cut your hair.' he says, I nod.

'Beautiful couple is it not?' He asks me as he gestures to Yves and Eleanor who enter the hall. 'I could not agree more.' I say. 'Well, I have seen others who suited Yves more to be honest.' He says with a smirk while taking a sip from his champagne. I chuckle and look down. I take a deep breath. Yves and Eleanor sit down at the table and all the others do too. I look at Yves, he looks....happy, I think? Or at least I hope.

Mathieu montague

I am talking with frances when I feel a hand gently on my shoulder. I turn around. A crooked smile welcomes me. 'Remember me old friend?' Michel says in the exact same voice I have heard throughout my life. The same voice which has whispered forbidden poetry, which has caressed my mind and my dreams. "How could I not' I say while embracing him very very tightly. 'I haven't seen you for such a long time!' I say. He smiles, 'You haven't changed a bit!' he says and I smile, I know he means he thinks I looke just as beautiful as I did when we had our last goodbye. I look at his endearing smile, I missed him. He still looks so beautiful. 'Neither have you.' I say with a smirk. We begin to talk and i realise how I have missed him,  oh how I have missed him.

Yves montague

We are being congratulated by everyone. I smile as Émile congratulates de, Akiva, Enoch, Cyril and at last my family congratulates me. My aunt shakes my hand. 'I did not expect you to marry such a beautiful lady.' She says with an arrogant smile, I frown. 'What did you expect?' I say with poison in my lunga and fire in my eyes. 'You look like your father' She says, but not kindly. 'I know more about you than you think Yves.' She says I roll with my eyes, 'And I know a lot more about you than you would like me to say.' I say without any emotion. 'Don't you dare' She hisses,  'I feel the same way. Remember, if you throw something, expect something to come back' I say with a smirk.