– …In sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow… – the temple officiant droned on, his voice devoid of any enthusiasm, as he listed the conditions of matrimonial life. He was a gaunt, sallow man, yellowed like a wax candle, heroically resisting the urge to lean against the altar. Perhaps even lie down on it. Ideally, to catch up on the sleep he’d been denied.
I felt about the same. The reason? I’d spent the entire night hunched over a book that my perpetually grumpy familiar had dragged in the evening before, tossing it at me with a snide, “Educate yourself, ignoramus!” Without wasting time on chit-chat with a half-witch like me—who’d already prepared a fiery rant about how the bird had swiped the book from me in the first place—he flew back out the window.
Having spent the last week at Strait’s estate, where boredom had driven me to clean half the dusty, neglected rooms even without being punished for it, I was overjoyed to have my property returned. I dove into the challenging but, as it turned out, utterly fascinating process of “enriching” myself, completely forgetting that early Monday morning, we had a grand event scheduled—a wedding.
The enrichment process stretched until dawn. I dozed off right over the book, my nose practically buried in the pages, before making myself more comfortable—face-down on my notebook of scribbles and summaries—and just passed out. Only to be jolted awake by a shrill, hysterical screech: “Are you still sleeping?!”
To be honest, “woke up” is a generous term. I managed to drag myself to my feet, that’s all. I nodded absentmindedly to the blonde whirlwind circling me, trying to dress me, brush my hair, and wipe ink smudges off my cheek. Her attempt to apply makeup was thwarted by my hearty yawn, followed by her choice curse words and a resigned, “Good enough!”
Strait walked in, took one look at me, and hissed something less than complimentary to Gairy. She bristled at first, then bristled again, before hurling something fragile at the closed door. The object shattered into pieces, and I lazily thought to myself that I’d have to clean up again. Finally, she started dressing me, muttering through gritted teeth words a lady shouldn’t know.
It worked out decently enough on the second try, or so I think, but the events that followed are a blur. I kept slipping into blissful, sweet sleep, lulled by the swaying of the carriage. Only now did I muster the strength to pry my eyes open. Yet, it wasn’t enough to stand upright under the officiant’s hateful glare. So, I clung tightly to my fiancé’s arm and, growing bolder, leaned against his shoulder.
– …And may the blessing of the One descend upon you… – the officiant spat out, his tone more akin to a curse than a blessing.
His irritation was more than understandable. The cause? Two births and a memorial service the day before. One of the temple maids had quietly informed us, trying to dissuade Strait from the ill-advised idea of a wedding at seven in the morning on the busiest day of the week. According to her, the holy father had… prayed a bit too fervently the night before and was now utterly drained of spiritual strength. The aroma of his “prayerful blessing” was so potent that the candles crackled and flared whenever he got too close. Noticing the pattern, the clergyman did his best to steer clear of them.
Which, frankly, was no easy feat. The temple was usually brimming with candles. And though it was early on the first day of the week, after a week and a half of blizzards, the residents of our small town had plenty to keep them busy. Still, the number of petitioners seeking divine intervention was significant. Not many placed their faith in the town hall to clear the snowdrifts.
– …And until death do you part! – the officiant finally concluded, letting out a relieved sigh, wafting the scent of… blessing over those present.
At that moment, I grimaced, my eyes watering, but oddly enough, the sleepiness vanished as if by magic. I blinked, brushing away a lone tear, and barely managed to croak out:
– Y-Yes! – peeling myself off the rector’s jacket, noting how the symbols registering the creation of a new, strong family flared in the temple ledger.
The rector cast a skeptical glance my way.
– Regretting it already? – he asked with his usual biting tone, hinting at the single tear I’d shed.
I didn’t bother mentioning that my regret stemmed solely from not having anything on hand to mask the divine blessing’s aroma. Instead, I replied almost honestly to the academy’s head:
– It’s from happiness!
And my happiness was boundless. Primarily because this farce—staged solely to ensure our marriage certificate appeared in every kingdom registry and left no room for doubt about our union—was finally over.
Strait frowned, clearly not buying my words. The holy father, on the other hand, didn’t hide his relief as he slowly but confidently shuffled toward a prayer bench. While my now-husband, albeit a sham one, slipped a ring onto my finger, the clergyman made himself comfortable on the bench, curling up as if such maneuvers were second nature to him. His state was so pitiful that he couldn’t care less that he was officiating the union of one of the kingdom’s most powerful mages and a northern witch. All he wanted was peace and quiet.
Only now, with the white gold ring adorned with a blue gem settled on my finger, did I lift my gaze to Reymor Strait.
His eyes were striking. Incredibly dark. The candlelight created the illusion of sparks flickering deep within that darkness. It stirred a feeling in my soul as if I were gazing into a starry night sky. That sky drew closer, slowly but inevitably, a little intimidating but far more thrilling. And in a moment, Reymor Strait kissed me. A gentle yet confident touch of his lips to mine, a magic that enveloped me in a familiar warmth.
I froze, tuning into my own sensations. But I calmed myself, remembering that I’d never felt repulsion at his closeness. And in this particular moment, my body filled with a lightness, my heart stilled, then began to pound wildly, as if trying to break free and entrust itself to the personal care of my pretend husband. He, in turn, decided to seal the effect with a happy, genuine smile, leaning in slowly. So close that I froze again.
– Don’t just stand there, – Strait hissed in my ear, shattering the fairy-tale romance of the moment. – I didn’t agree to play boundless love for both of us.
– If you recall, there was no talk of love at all! – I hissed back, shaking off the daze, no less venomously. – Just marriage.
– Uh-huh! And how do you think we’ll explain why I suddenly married a student out of the blue? Love and madness are the most convincing reasons!
No surprise there. Though personally, I was rooting for the latter option.
– Enough already! – the officiant grumbled sleepily, nestling more comfortably on his chosen bench. – Sort out your issues at home. Best of luck with the delivery, Lady Strait!
My jaw dropped. I realized Lady Strait was now me—and what the holy father had just implied! I flushed a deep red. Reymor didn’t hesitate to chuckle:
– Well, I suppose that’s one way to look at it. But then we’d better start building the evidence sooner rather than later, – he remarked, almost seriously. And before I could clarify exactly where he could take his evidence, he commanded: – That’s it! We’re done here. We’ve got a mountain of work waiting.
We left the solemn occasion of sealing our union with divine blessing under my angry hissing and the officiant’s thunderous snoring.