The Unwanted Wedding

Chapter 23 - Run, Rabbit, Run

"Before marriage, a girl has to make love to a man to hold him. After marriage, she has to hold him to make love to him. Men are so willing to respect anything that bores them. Just not their wives. Husbands are chiefly good as lovers when they are betraying their wives. "

- Book of Encounters

Vin 

I followed behind as the hunting party pressed forward deeper into the thick woods. I had a rival duke beside me and an overly curious one behind.  I repeatedly spared glances in the wake of me just to know what the aged bent man was doing. And everytime I would be greeted with him staring at me. The man introduced to me as the Former Duke Duarte Ambrosio, Crisanto Ambrosio's father. The man looked like he faded from life then reemerged drained and discoloured. I do not think 'Duarte' was his first name, his wife who looked desperately fuming, sometimes called him be another, one he responded easier to.  He was an odd sort for an aristocratic figure. He allowed his deeply greying hair to be left uncut as it reached his shoulders, and his face lined with thickening beard of similar colour. Over a high collared black shirt was an aqua coloured doublet decorated with a pattern of circles. His black jerkin came low to close as his hips in a extremity of peal buttons and chained ropes.  Though the day was warm, the cool breeze called for warmth of clothes. He had a sleeveless white coat lined with the thick black fur of a bear. I noted that his skin was a sickly white. I assumed that the worm beside me gain his father's title because of his health issues. On his breast he had a aqua stoned medal, Reyna told me it was wise to wear my own medals of honor, to add formality, she had put it. I was somehow pleased to know that she liked chosen outfit, at this point I would take any kindness from her.

I looked far back to find her, but she had stayed back to chat with the women, by the looks of things that was something that didn't appeal to her. She looked the part of her high nobility, once more making me feel like the undergrowth.  A shadowing black wide brimmed hat accessorized her hair.  Her ears and neck glittered with gold, rubies and pearls. Her red riding jacket lined with cream piping that matched her full skirts. She had dressed in deafening silence as I observed from the doorway when I assured her that I would not be far from her side to be alone with these fucks for a day and a night. When we arrived she allowed me public affection to keep talk away, but with every touch or briefest brush of the lips held only shallow emotionless meaning. 

In a way our ensembles matched through color palette, joining us, a thing I noted through some of the couples. Even the Duke matched his farther and his mother. The Duke ever the dandy of manless proportions looked like a soiled egg attempting to hide odor and grotesque appearance with fancy clothes and unearned ropes of honor and pride.  What did that pile of streaming shit know of honor? What did he know of suffering for ones country? His dreadful occult vituperator of a mother clothed herself in maidenish form, festering and covering her body, yet as it was pointed out to me by my wife, the curve of her gown showed more than overuse of fabrics, she was with child. Something I hoped, or thought I am prepared for, to have come in the future of my own life. Her scowl seemed permanent today, by my guessing it had a lot to do with the woman that had arrived with Jadestone and the other witch. A woman I hadn't seen before but immediately recognized her stance.  Though she had enough pearls on her to make her appear wealthy, it was obvious that that wealth was made via her being on her back...or on her knees. She was the Former Duke's pubescent mistress, for all I knew the housemistress for both men of the family. Her dress was reveling under black netting, low cut bodice and hoopless skirt that flashed her hips and ankles.  I noted that she bore some resemblance to the family; they raven dark hair and blue eyes, it disturbed me that she may have been chosen due to some arousal towards incest.

Lost in my thoughts I didn't pay enough attention to my rival at my side, not seeing the end of his rifle be put out, I stumbled forward. Both Jadestone in his attempted camouflage of green and black and the former Duke put their arms out to stop my from falling into humiliation. I rebalanced myself, shrugging off their clinging arms defiantly and shooting a sharp glare at that pompous shit. Lord Valdez looked back from his lead at the head of the group and muttered something then continued walking. He was a burst of bright greens, yellows and whites, ornamented with more decorations than a Christmas tree. I turned at his wife's call for reassurance for the situation; it was her reputation as a hostess at risk if something goes wrong. At lest she was dressed more suitably than her bloody husband.  Her brown gown leaned towards a laidback country vibe.