The sounds of music filled the cathedral, welcoming the bride. This was her wish, and she had personally selected the music. Typically, wedding ceremonies in our country took place in a quiet setting, marked only by the applause of the guests, but this musical addition created a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Initially taken aback, the guests now appeared to share my feelings, their faces lighting up with smiles as they adjusted to the unexpected.
Soon, the cathedral doors opened, and Bertia, accompanied by Marquis Noches, made her entrance. Dressed in a stunning gown, she captivated everyone. A moment later, applause erupted, celebrating our soon-to-be union.
As my bride came closer, she clasped hands with the Marquis Noches, whose eyes shimmered with unshed tears. When he passed Bertia’s hand to me, his expression grave, he urged, “Please, please, please take good care of my daughter.” I nodded with sincerity and assured him, “You can trust me.”
As I grasped Bertia’s hand, I genuinely felt like she was becoming my wife. A warm rush surged through me, a feeling so deep that not even the frown of the tearful Marquis Noches could lessen my joyful expression.
“Shall we, Tia?”
We were set to walk to the altar together. When I gently called to her, a hesitant and trembling “Y-yes!” emerged from under her veil, and she almost tripped. I had a sense this might happen and calmly wrapped my free arm around her waist to support her.
“I-I-I’m so sorry, Lord Cecil.”
“As your husband, it’s my duty to support my wife. I’m simply fulfilling my role.” I whispered softly in her ear, kissing her head through the veil, which prompted a sudden intake of breath from her.
I regretted not being able to see her face beneath the veil, but I was convinced she was blushing. The hand I was holding became warmer, and the visible skin showed a subtle flush.
“No need to hurry. Let’s proceed at your pace, Tia. And remember, whatever occurs, I’m here to handle it, okay?”
“Lord Ceciiiiiil…” Bertia’s voice quivered with unshed tears—was it merely my imagination? I briefly pondered how she would look when I lifted her veil. What if her face was stained with tears and a runny nose? She would still be charming, certainly, but I feared Bertia might fret over her appearance.
To lift the veil, I would need to angle it to prevent the attendees from seeing her face directly. If it appeared untidy, I would promptly use a handkerchief to dab away any mess.
“It’s okay, really,” I said with a reassuring smile. As Bertia began to regain her composure, she stepped forward. I matched her gentle pace, one arm wrapped securely around her waist while the other held her hand to prevent any falls. Just to clarify, my hand is strictly for her safety; there’s no hidden agenda, understood?
As I approached the high priest at the altar, I hesitantly let go of her waist. Dressed in his grand ceremonial robes, the high priest announced in a voice that echoed through the cathedral, “We now begin the marriage ceremony of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Cecil Glo Alphasta and Crown Princess Consort Bertia.”
In keeping with tradition, the high priest addressed our fathers—the King and Marquis Noches—to verify that everything was in order for the marriage ceremony. Once they provided their approval, he gestured for the guests to take their seats, and the ceremony commenced.
… Now we approach the extended segment. Quite extensive indeed. Ceremonies like this typically do not get shortened when higher ranks are present. In fact, a royal ceremony such as this, involving the kingdom’s elite, can be so lengthy and monotonous that one might find themselves dozing off.
Bertia, tense with anxiety, was unlikely to doze off, and if she happened to get sleepy, her veil would conceal it. On the other hand, if I closed my eyes even for a brief moment, it could spell trouble. I needed to remain alert.
With nothing else occupying my mind, I found myself daydreaming about our soon-to-be honeymoon, picturing the fun and joyful experiences that awaited us. Just to be clear, I genuinely appreciate the divine forces that brought Bertia into my life, and I have a profound respect for them, alright?
During the church’s discussions of its accomplishments, I believed it was okay to let my thoughts wander. That portion of the ceremony often seemed more focused on personal interests, fundraising, and boosting the church’s image than on spiritual intentions.
“His Majesty the King will now present the royal seals for the Crown Prince and Crown Princess. Your Majesty, you may proceed,” the high priest announced.
“Indeed.”
As the ceremony approached its end, my father carried out the ritual of bestowing the seals. These ring-shaped seals held great significance as they represented our royal status. In the Kingdom of Alphasta, royals received new seals at birth, upon attaining adulthood, and during marriage.
The seal, from birth to adulthood, simply indicated status and held little value on documents. Although it should not be disregarded, it did not imply significant responsibilities until one reached adulthood.
Once an adult seal is attained at legal maturity, it carried greater authority and necessitated careful management, symbolizing the owner’s ability to manage national responsibilities.
Lastly, the marriage seal came into play. Royal men engraved a symbol that represented their wife onto their seal, resulting in a new seal they would use throughout their lives. The wife, now a royal, was also given a new seal that featured both her personal symbol and her husband’s. This tradition recognized and affirmed their status as a married couple.
As a result, the ring ceremony in marriage rites held particular importance.
As the high priest solemnly proclaimed, “These rings are bestowed upon Crown Prince Cecil Glo Alphasta and Crown Princess Consort Bertia,” he marked a key moment in our lives together.”
My father stood in front of us, presenting a red velvet cushion given to him by the archbishop, showcasing it to our guests. Resting on it were two rings: one adorned with motifs of all the magical elements, its dark element modified to showcase a black fox motif in honor of Bertia. The other ring, intended for Bertia, illustrated a black fox holding a crown, symbolizing the merger of my seal with hers.
The ring ceremony usually ended with each of us putting our rings on our fingers and displaying them to those present. However, I decided to take an unconventional approach—I picked up Bertia’s ring instead.
“… Huh?” A soft voice of surprise came from next to me, but I ignored it and continued speaking.
“Tia, would you mind extending your hand?”
“L-Lord C-Cecil?”
I grasped her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. To make it special, I kissed the ring gently. The cathedral responded with soft murmurs, but I decided to overlook them. The whispers felt more like admiration from the women present rather than any criticism, so I saw no problem.