Fate | Baldwin IV

wedding

A pale glow across the city of Jerusalem with the first light of dawn, the low hum of excitement rising in the streets, the city stirring to life with the tolling of church bells signaling the beginning of our wedding day...

Today was the day. I was to marry Baldwin, my king.

As the earliest rays of sunlight began creeping through the window, I woke up with the strangest feeling settled over me. In a matter of hours, I was to become a married woman, yet I was strangely calmer than I had thought I would be. As soon as I got out of bed I was fed a light breakfast and rushed to the bathing chambers to be prepared for the holy ceremony. Bathed with the most fragrant flowers and oils, I was made to stand still while prayers were recited over me to bless the body that would soon belong to the king, and the spirit to his kingdom. I would no longer be a maiden but the queen, and with it would come the responsibilities that would require giving myself up in more ways than one.

The rich wedding gown was the first thing that touched my now blessed and softened skin, marking the beginning of a new chapter for both me and the kingdom of Jerusalem. In my chambers where the commotion had already begun, a flurry of hands worked to weave delicate gold threads into my hair and adjust the folds of my dress, none of which belonged to the maids that had helped me during the fitting.

Aisha had left, with the rest of the girls. From what I knew they had been reassigned to other duties in the palace instead. I hadn't seen them since then. I was too busy to look anyway.

After that incident, which I made sure would be kept as a secret from the king, I was sent a new group of maids that I wasn't quite familiar with, but I didn't have the luxury to complain, especially when the disappearance of my 'loyal' servants remained a mystery to the eyes of the court.

I stared into the polished mirror, watching the hands of my attendants flutter over me, puffing the skirt here, pinning the veil there...

While many of them were busy with the gown, a few of them stood close, applying kohl to my eyes and a reddish pink stain to my lips to make me appear more 'attractive' to my soon-to-be husband. Madame Marcelle, watching nearby, didn't approve of the rouge and the paint, for one should not adorn herself to be desirable in the eyes of men and God. I remained quiet.

Preparations took longer than expected, the time spent on the gown was well beyond what we had needed during the fitting. Once the dress was finally arranged, two front pieces of my hair were braided and loosely tied at the back, while the rest flowed freely to my waist. A thin, jeweled crown was added to secure my veil, along with a pair of gold earrings to complete the look. The maids stepped back after the final touches, their gazes shifting to me, assessing their work.

"You look...regal, madam." One of the maids' voices broke through the silence.

Regal. The word still felt foreign in my mind. I was adjusting to it, still learning to wear the title as easily as I wore the silk gown. I turned away from the mirror, meeting the gazes of Madame Marcelle and the maids one by one. Soon, they would lead me from this room, through the streets of Jerusalem, to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, to be married before the altar where Christ had risen.

My gaze shifted, drawn to the portrait of my mother hanging on the wall. She was always there, watching over me. My father too, from above. My throat tightened, tears pricking my eyes. I was a bride, and they were not here to stand beside me, to witness this moment.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to blink away the tears. There was no room for sorrow today.

When the time came, we made our way outside, the bright sunlight blinding after the dim intimacy of my chamber. My breath caught in my throat at the sight awaiting me—a white horse stood proudly before the gate, its reins held by a squire. The animal was adorned in gold to match my gown, its mane braided and woven with flowers.