Magia Posthuma ✓

Thirty

WARNING: Just a heads up, some graphic violence coming up towards the end.

Irina hovered alongside her new husband as the guests for the wedding breakfast steadily streamed into the ballroom of the Governor's Palace – all smiling, all offering brief words of congratulations as they passed by. The eager smiles and vigorous handshakes were all for Prince Lupesci, Irina noted; while the wives and young ladies sneered at her as they passed (all still clearly under the impression that she'd seduced the town's most eligible bachelor from right under their noses) the local nobles barely glanced her way – all of them hoping for a promotion of rank or a piece of the new Lupesci regime. While Alexander put on a dazzling performance as the new Governor (and secretly soon to be King of Transylvania) – smirking and rolling in their flattery like a pig in filth – Irina fidgeted impatiently beside him, turning the freshly-placed gold wedding band around her ring finger and glancing at the door.

It seemed strange to think that barely a few months ago she'd been standing in the very same ballroom – in almost exactly same position near the faded medieval mural – newly arrived from Vienna and without a clue as to the months of turmoil that were ahead of her. She'd known nothing of Hungarian Princes, Conclaves and Vampires back then; she'd been blissfully unaware of the two men eyeing her from opposite sides of the room – one hoping to ruin her, the other hoping to resurrect a piece of herself she'd long tried to forget. And even though she might have chosen another path for herself if she'd had the chance to go back, she was resolute in her decision to reach the end of this one – whatever the cost. Resolute to have her revenge and never look back.

She brushed her fingers across the black pearls strung around her neck as she fumed and fizzled quietly like a fuse – creeping closer and closer to blowing the roof off and bringing the bricks of her husband's carefully constructed world down around him.

As she glanced around the ballroom – looking from the tall windows overlooking the Piata Mare, to the overwhelmingly Hungarian crowd of guests – she plotted her final move, watching as all the pieces began to fall into place. She smirked softly to herself when her eyes fell on Doctor Tarsus and Herr Carmitru deep in conversation nearby, and felt a flutter beneath her ribs as she watched the servants buzz about the room handing out glasses to guests and filling them generously with wine ready for the toast; she hoped that her Dog's Mercury-infused bottle of Bikavér hadn't become muddled with the rest.

Finally, once all the guests had arrived, Prince Lupesci took an empty glass from a passing servant and beat it with his signet ring. The crisp sound chimed out through the crowded room – cutting through the drone of conversation until all the guests were silent and looking his way.

"Köszönöm," he said, lifting his voice until it echoed off the panelled walls. "Köszönöm to you all for being here to celebrate with us this evening. And while I'm aware that many of you find the idea of a wedding on Ash Wednesday a little unorthodox – understand that your presence here tonight will not go unnoticed."

Irina offered a small smile to the servant who suddenly appeared in front of her and offered her an empty glass.

"And of course, Köszönöm to his eminence Archbishop Sigismund for so willingly performing the ceremony," the prince went on, gesturing to the archbishop who was standing in the corner – away from everyone else. "And for joining us tonight; I know you've ashes and alms to distribute and a mass to perform later."

The Archbishop nodded but appeared thoroughly uncomfortable. When a passing servant offered him a glass, he shook his head and waved it away.

Prince Lupesci looked down – peering into the empty glass he was holding as he considered his next words. "...What you've all come to witness – here, tonight," he began, looking up and around the room, "is not just the beginning of a marriage – of a joint venture in family and legacy – but also the beginning of a new legacy for us, for Hermannstadt – or as it's soon to be formally known, Nagyszeben – but also for Transylvania as a whole."