Medicine | King Baldwin

52

Agnes, true to her word, set about arranging the wedding despite her own strong reservations. The day arrived much sooner than Isabel had anticipated, catching her in a whirlwind of preparations. Before she knew it, she found herself in her chamber, where Jeanette and Osane were busy helping her into a gown of the finest white silk.

The dress was delicate and exquisite, its fabric shimmering softly in the light that filtered through the chamber's windows.

"You look like a vision." Jeanette murmured as she fastened the intricate laces at the back of the dress, stepping back to admire their work. Osane, holding a delicate veil in her hands, forced a smiled.

Isabel couldn't help but smile at her reflection in the mirror. The reality of the moment began to sink in—she was truly about to be wed.

The day of the wedding dawned with the entire palace adorned in a cascade of baby's breath and roses. The sweet scent of the flowers filled the air, that buzzed among the gathered guests. Noblemen and women, dressed in their finest attire, clustered around the altar, their eyes shining with curiosity.

At the center of it all, Baldwin stood tall at the altar, his figure commanding in a richly decorated robe. His mask had been specially carved for the occasion, its elegant designs catching the light in intricate patterns.

To his left hung a sword, sheathed in a finely crafted scabbard, its hilt within easy reach. Baldwin's fingers unconsciously tapped against the hilt, a subtle gesture that betrayed the mixture of emotions churning within him. His heart raced with the gravity of the moment, the realization that in just a short time, Isabel would stand beside him as his wife.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, every eye on him as they waited for the bride to appear. His gaze remained fixed forward, though he couldn't help but steal a glance now and then toward the path she would soon walk.

"Your Majesty." Simon's quiet voice cut through his thoughts. Standing a little way off as a witness, his eyes held a knowing glint. "Your excitement is evident." he added with a faint smile.

Baldwin turned slightly toward him, his fingers stilling on the hilt of his sword.

"I would be lying if I said otherwise." He replied softly, his voice carrying a rare hint of nervousness.

"They'll be here any moment now." Sybilla whispered, her eyes trained on the entrance. She stood a little ways away from Baldwin, next to Agnes, who seemed lost in her own thoughts.

"Yes." The woman replied, her tone somber. Her eyes were fixed on the same spot, though her mind was elsewhere.

"You don't seem very pleased." she remarked quietly, keeping her voice low to avoid being overheard by the nearby guests.

"Just exhausted from all the preparations." Agnes said, closing the topic with a finality that suggested she didn't wish to discuss it further.

Meanwhile, the two maids finished adorning Isabel, stepping back to admire their work before quietly exiting the chamber.

Left alone, she stood in front of the large mirror, her reflection captivating her. The silk dress clung to her gracefully, the intricate embroidery catching the light, and for a moment, she could hardly believe the transformation. She hardly recognized herself—no longer just a young woman but a bride.

"I'm getting married, Mother." she whispered softly, a faint smile touching her lips.

The words were like a prayer, a message sent to the heavens. She hoped, with all her heart, that her mother was watching from above, sharing in the happiness of this day.