While preparing for our wedding, Bertia appeared overjoyed when the ring ceremony was discussed. Yet, after hearing the specifics, a trace of disappointment crossed her face. Although I had considered addressing it, she had quickly bounced back and expressed delight about our union, so I refrained from probing. Today, after reviewing the list Kuro provided, I finally grasped her concern.
Bertia had wished for a ceremony where we could exchange rings—a tradition absent in our country.
Having grasped her desire, I was eager to make it come true. In doing so, the experience felt like a binding ritual—surprisingly appropriate and quite enjoyable.
Since Bertia’s face was hidden by the veil, I couldn’t see her expression, but the warmth of her fingers conveyed that she was pleased, which filled me with joy as well.
“Tia, could you put mine on as well?” I said with a smile, reaching out my left hand. She nodded gently, taking my ring in her shaking hands. Carefully, she slid the ring onto my finger, and warmth surged in my chest—definitely a feeling generated by the fact that it was her doing this.
Once she was done, Bertia glanced at my face through the veil. It was clear she was contemplating whether to kiss the ring too, given that I had kissed hers. This created an ideal opportunity to transition.
The moment arrived for the vow kiss. Instead of having her kiss the ring, I intended for us to share a kiss on the lips to finalize our vows. I looked at the archbishop to signal him to proceed, surprising him momentarily before he quickly regained his composure and carried on with the ceremony.
“Now, the kiss of vows.”
I gently lifted her veil, and our gazes connected—her eyes glistening with tears. It was a relief to realize that, despite her flushed cheeks and teary eyes, the situation was not as dire as I had dreaded.
Whether she was still taken aback by my previous actions or simply anxious, Bertia remained motionless, shaking like a small animal. I clasped her hands in mine, surrounding them with warmth.
“Bertia Ibil Noches—no, Bertia Ibil Alphasta. I, Cecil Glo Alphasta, pledge to love and honor you in health and illness, in joy and sadness, in prosperity and need, and through every challenge we encounter, to support and comfort you, and to cherish you for all our days together.”
At my words, her eyes widened in surprise.
Pleased with her reaction, I leaned forward and softly pressed my lips against hers.
She let out a silent scream, her face turning an even deeper shade of red as she opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, overwhelmed by the moment.
Bertia’s rosy cheeks stood out against the white of her gown, enhancing her charm. Murmurs of admiration flowed from different parts of the venue. Concealed by her gently flowing veil, the guests might not have noticed her flushed face, or they may have been captivated by her expressions of surprise and confusion, which added to the beauty of the event.
From Marquis Noches’ seat, I heard the gritting of teeth and felt a palpable murderous intent directed at me, yet I decided not to dwell on it. This was simply how a father of the bride behaved.
If I were to watch my daughter, who looks like Bertia, get married someday, I might find myself watching with a fierce gaze, possibly even stirring up some trouble unintentionally.
Having won such a heartfelt affection as Bertia’s, I can partially understand the Marquis Noches’ emotions.
“Tia?” I tilted my head, prompting her with both the questions, “Is this the vow you wanted?” and “Won’t you vow in return?”
“Uh, well, that… um… yes, that…” Bertia, clearly distressed, grasped my intention. She hesitated, her mouth opening and closing, her eyes flicking around as if searching for the right words.
Bertia looked to the archbishop for help. However, since the ring ceremony, I had strayed from the agreed course, leaving the archbishop uncertain about the next steps. Indeed, he wore a calm smile, yet his skin was slightly damp with sweat, and he could only offer Bertia an encouraging nod.
At last, Bertia appeared to summon her courage. “Um… um… I, Bertia Ibil Alphasta, promise to love you, Lord Cecil, at all times, and support you even unto death!” Her voice resonated with an unusual strength for a vow, reverberating through the hall.
She appeared overwhelmed by unexpected events and unsure of her next steps, yet her statement was confident and assertive.
Bertia, did you forget the vows and get nervous? You certainly shortened them quite a bit. This behavior is typical of you. Apparently relieved to have completed her shortened vows, Bertia’s face lit up with a contented smile, and a small chuckle slipped from her lips. She really is a charming person, regardless of the circumstances.
“Hey, Tia. What do you think about the ‘kiss of the vow’?” I said with a teasing smile, encouraging her to kiss me. In our culture, the vow kiss is typically a singular act, and it seems to be the case in her past life too. However, considering the circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to ask for a kiss from her this time, would it?
“The vow kiss has already happened…,” she stammered, trying to say that the kiss had already taken place.
I leaned in closer, narrowing the distance between us. “I want your ‘vow’ too, right?” Naturally, feeling the urge to kiss her, I lingered just a breath away from her lips.
She gasped, her cheeks flushing a deep red, as if she might lose consciousness. I gently steadied her at the waist. Typically, this would be when Kuro’s tail might intervene, but thankfully, that wasn’t the case today. In fact, Zeno had returned at some point and was keeping Kuro at bay, ensuring the ceremony remained uninterrupted.
“Tia?” I whispered her name softly, so only she could hear it.
She swallowed with nervousness.
Finally gathering her courage, she shut her eyes tightly and gently pressed her soft lips to the corner of mine.
What is this unusual feeling, the warmth flooding my cheeks, my heart racing more than normal?
Experiencing a post-workout feeling, I had a peculiar, slightly itchy sensation that compelled me to yell, yet it strangely brought comfort.
“… Lord Cecil?” Bertia, confused by my silence following the kiss, slowly opened her eyes.
“?!… Lord Cecil, your face is quite flushed. Are you feeling embarrassed, perhaps?”
Embarrassed…
Her words prompted me to realize my own reaction, and I instinctively covered my mouth. Overcome by embarrassment, I found myself turning away from Bertia without thinking.
Bertia laughed joyfully at my reaction, her smile momentarily catching my attention, but I was too flustered to truly appreciate it.
“Archbishop, please go on…” I muttered, still avoiding eye contact, eager to push the ceremony past my unexpected display of shyness.
Bertia’s sparkling gaze overwhelmed me, making it difficult to meet her eyes directly, which prompted the archbishop to continue with the proceedings.