Bad Prophecies (draft 1)

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Our Wedding planning was an utter disaster.
Back then, it was customary for the bride's family to plan the wedding, which meant it was up to the two most aloof people ever to orchestrate the first-ever immortal wedding.
Of course, Alex and I chipped in to help, but not too much. I was ultimately in charge of the aesthetics and the event's orderly.
One day, Ms Baranov came to see me at the bookshop.
"Madam, how can I help?"
"I need your engagement ring for sizing the wedding ring."
"Oh, I don't have an engagement ring."
"You don't have an engagement ring?"
"No?"
She looked at me utterly horrified.
"That son of mine is an utter idiot. Remind me, darling, why you agreed to marry him? Now, let's measure your ring size."
She dragged me upstairs and got the tape measure. Once she had my ring size, she said, "He will be getting you an engagement ring. Mark my word."
"Please, don't let it be too expensive. It doesn't really matter to me if the ring is spectacular or plain."

The very next day, Alex and I were near the tributary, sitting and relaxing.
"Oh, my mother told me about the ring. I suppose I should give it to you."
He slipped onto my finger, a plain silver ring band.
"Oh thank Her, I was beside myself worrying it would be too eccentric. I know it's rather popular to make the engagement ring over-the-top and the wedding band plain, but I truly dislike the idea of an exciting engagement band."
"I know, I chose it myself to keep your sanity."

/

My seamstress had told me it was the simplest wedding dress she had ever crafted. It looked similar to a chemise, the type of dress I always found to be lovely. I wasn't one to follow fashion trends, but an elegant, pure white was the obvious choice for my dress colour. May She bless Queen Victoria and her good fashion sense.
It had bishop sleeves, flowing elegantly and draping from my small arms, a hemline just below my ankles and a string to secure my overlayer's neckline on my collar. It was better than anything I'd ever imagined. It was rather loose, as I typically wore my clothing, but on a whim, I decided to use a white rendition of the fashionable belts of the time to accentuate the waistline.

/

"I'm fairly sure the bride and bridegroom are to invite their friends to the wedding," Alex said blankly, writing out an invitation.
"I can't help it if I haven't got any friends."
"Jacob and Shiloh?"
"Fine, I'll invite him."
"Margaret and Oscar from the market?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes.
"And them."
"Elijah, the paper boy?"
"And him."
"Mr Laurence?"
"Him too."
Alex only smirked cunningly at this.
"Wipe that grin off your face or I'll rip out your teeth."
He kissed the top of my head; one of the many benefits my diminished stature provided him.
"I love it when you threaten me with serious harm without intent to murder."

/

Running his hands through my curls, Alex told me, "How do you think Patroclus felt when he died. That Achilles would be devastated to know it happened, without even thinking about how he, himself feels."
I say told because it didn't sound like a question. He used the language one would in a question but it was, definitely a statement. I've asked him many times over the years what he meant by this but he's never had an answer.
We were near the tributary again. I had made an effort to wear white every day leading up to our wedding, so my chemise fell on the grass with grace as I sat with my feet dipped in the river.
Alex was standing in the river. It wasn't too wide or deep, barely more than a stream, so he had his trousers rolled up to his knees and stood shin-deep in the water.
"I could never be happier that I will never have to know how he felt and neither will you, my dove."
He beamed and splasher water my way.
"Careful! You'll ruin my dress!"
"Ruin, or complete?" He said keenly.
"Yes, ruin, you bastard."

/

In the last few days before our wedding, a lot happened.
Mrs Margot the florist helped me select my bridal bouquet. It consisted of white lilies and red roses. Alex wore a green carnation on his suit jacket.
I embroidered monarch butterflies and ferns onto our wedding clothes. The sleeves, the hems, onto the pockets of his suit. I ended up liking the idea so much, that I embroidered ferns onto all of my clothes.
Alex held a bachelor party. I wouldn't know what happened, but from what he told me immediately after, I don't want to know.
We made the final arrangements for our honeymoon. Arranged catering. Alcohol was a must. Arranged for an officiant. All the last bits and bobs that had to be done were done.

/

On the day of the wedding, there was a whole lot of stress. I was always warned of this, but I never imagined myself getting married before so I had never envisioned it.
I eventually just sat back and drank sherry with Ms Baranov in my changing room. My mum took over the management of the day.
Our Wedding wasn't in a church, due to Alex's uncontrollable screaming fits from childhood church outings. The venue ended up being Mr Laurence's family-owned vineyard. There was a small cottage for changing rooms and preparations and all that. Our officiant was Jacob, Shiloh at his ankles the whole time. He was also with me and Ms Baranov.
"Oh, young love. Sweetest thing there be." He babbled, half-drunk.
"I'm twenty years older than you, Jacob. Also, don't get too drunk." I grabbed his glass from his hand and chugged it myself.
"You'll always just look young. I'm just plain old, no eternal youth for me."

Pa walked with me down the aisle.
Jacob called for order in the vineyard and then spoke.
"We, people of Soho, and wherever else we may come from, are gathered here today to witness the union of two magnificent young people.
Alexander Black, do you take this young lass to be your lawfully wedded spouse, in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty, in proximity and estrangement, in heaven, in hell and on earth, for as long as the stars align, so that not even armageddon shall do you part?"
"I do."
"And do you, Kohl Crowley, take this young lad to be your lawfully wedded spouse, in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty, in proximity and estrangement, in heaven, in hell and on earth, for as long as the stars align, so that not even armageddon shall do you part?"
"I do," I said, starting to tear up.
"You may now kiss the bride."