'Traditional' by fashion standards is usually just a nicer word for humble, which is just another word for ugly. Still, this event isn't about you; standing out more than the bride is hardly respectful. It's what's on the inside that counts, anyway. You don what is basically a shapeless gown with a cyclas (a tunic) over the top.
By the time you've gotten yourself into a presentable shape, your siblings have already made their way to the chapel. You aren't quite sure what the rush is—especially since food and drink aren't served until afterwards.
You make your way to the chapel on a warm summer's afternoon in late June. While the cold winter months lie ahead menacingly, you can't help but be optimistic. Nothing in your future is written down, and change is in the air. You find yourself jealous of Bregan (of all people), who seems to be dead set on joining the Knights. Or even Silvanus…while he has been through so much, the path ahead of him is a clear one. So where does that put you?