It's time.
Thérèse could hear footsteps coming down the hall towards her room. She had learned to recognize the nearly-mute servant girl's footsteps. A quiet knock came at the door.
"Yes?" Thérèse called out. The door slowly opened, and in came the girl, holding a large box.
"It's time to get ready for the ceremony, miss." She mumbled. Thérèse rose from the armchair she'd been sitting in. She'd been thinking long and hard about what was to come. Trying to come up with a back-up plan in case Henri and the others failed. She had nothing. If the rescue plan didn't succeed, Thérèse would have to go through with the marriage. It would be her only chance at survival.
"Yes, thank you." Thérèse said. She took the box from the girl and set it on the table. Thérèse stripped down to her undergarments, and opened the box. She noticed a small envelope on top of the perfectly folded dress and cape. It held a pair of old but beautiful sapphire earrings. They were cut into long inverted triangles. Thérèse started to run her finger along the edges, but they were so sharp she feared she'd cut herself on them. The dressmaker must have slipped them in when she packaged the dress. The envelope also had a handwritten note:
"Thérèse,
Just in case."
In case of what? Thérèse thought. Then it dawned on her. Just in case I need a weapon. It was nice to know that at least someone in the palace was on her side. She slid the earrings into her ears and turned to the servant girl.
"Help me, please." Thérèse asked softly. The girl helped Thérèse put on the dress and cape. Thérèse spun around, the fabulous fabric billowing out around her. The servant girl was blushing.
"Are you embarrassed?" Thérèse asked with a confused tone.
"No, I just…I just hope I get to have a wedding like you someday." The girl replied. Thérèse looked at her with eyes full of pity. She reached out to gently caress the girl's cheek.
"I pray to God you never do."
—
Thérèse could hear excitement buzzing as she stood outside of the castle's chapel. Hundreds of people waited in the pews inside. Thérèse was honestly impressed Paul was able to get so many guests together on such short notice. She could hear men joking, women tittering, and the cries and shouts of young children. Paul was already inside, anxiously awaiting Thérèse's arrival. She could picture him, rubbing his pudgy, greedy hands together in front of the altar. In his mind, he wasn't marrying Thérèse. He was marrying money and power, with Thérèse as a byproduct. Thérèse wiped the palms of her hands on her dress. They were clammy, and Thérèse felt tiny firecrackers of anxiety being lit off in her gut.
Thérèse jumped as a hand touched her shoulder from behind. The wedding planner was standing there, holding a bouquet of impossibly fresh irises bound together by a silky gold ribbon. He held them out to Thérèse.
"I wasn't able to find roses in time, so unfortunately you won't be able to blind yourself. However, if you chew up enough of the irises right after the ceremony, you'll be terribly ill just in time for your wedding night. It will only last a few hours, though, so you'll have to come up with some other excuse for the rest of the honeymoon."
Thérèse laughed sadly as she took the flowers from him.
"Thank you. They're beautiful." she said as she breathed in the scent of the blooms. The wedding planner pulled her into a side hug, and kissed the top of her head.
"You look wonderful." he said. "I'm sure the congregation will agree." He motioned to the ginormous chapel doors. The buzzing from inside had subdued a bit, and Thérèse guessed people were settling in and preparing for her appearance.
"You'll hear the organ start to play. Count to three in your head, and then walk in. There's a white carpet with iris petals on it that splits the room into two. Follow that to the altar."
Thérèse swallowed the hard lump in her throat and realized her mouth had gone dry. She nodded slowly. The wedding planner gave her a half-smile. He tucked an out-of-place piece of hair behind her hair. Thérèse was starting to notice that he had a father-like aura. Maybe that's why she enjoyed his company so much.
"I should join the rest of the guests. It shouldn't be too long, I'll make sure they don't leave you out here forever." The wedding planner patted her shoulder, then slipped through the chapel doors to join the rest of the wedding attendees.
Thérèse heard the room go silent. She drew in a sharp breath as the organ began to play a slow, melancholy wedding song. To Thérèse, it more resembled a death march.
1…2…3…She counted in her head. As she took her first step forward, the chapel doors swung open. Every head turned to look at her. The attendees all rose to their feet as she entered. Their eyes tracking her as she made her way down the aisle. Some smiled warmly, others were teary eyed. Even the children stilled, mouths open as Thérèse passed by in her glittering gown.
Thérèse felt as though she was moving in slow motion, like running in a dream. She realized she had a death-grip on her bouquet. She had been white-knuckling the irises since she started to walk. Halfway up the aisle, she locked eyes with the wedding planner. He was in the front row, craning his neck to see her. He waved his hands in three small circles and mouthed "smile". Thérèse straightened her back and plastered a fake smile across her face. The wedding planner shot her a thumbs up. For the first time, she looked ahead to the altar.
Paul was standing ther, hair perfectly pressed, in a dark blue suit with gold accents. It complemented Thérèse's dress, but didn't take attention away from her. It was a great color scheme. The suit fit Paul well, considering his pudginess.
I guess when you're paying for the best tailor in Bayonne, that's what you'll get.
A priest stood behind Paul, Bible in hand, ready to wed the two of them in the eyes of God. Thérèse could feel her knees get wobbly and her face get hot when she approached the altar. She let out a deep breath and smiled at Paul. He winked back at her. The priest held his hands out palms-up, and addressed the congregation.
"Please, sit." A brief shuffling of skirts and shoes, then, "Family and friends. We are here today to celebrate the love of Paul and Thérèse. A truly phenomenal story, in my humble opinion. Through disaster, death, and despair, these two were able to find each other. Led by their hearts and the will of the good Lord, beauty has come out of the ugliness that has recently befallen our wonderful kingdom. If the Lord sees fit, may these two perfect souls heal the wounds that have been inflicted upon Bayonne, and lead us all to a brighter future."
The crowd nodded in agreement with the priest's words.
Doesn't he mean the pain and ugliness that Paul and the others have inflicted upon Bayonne and Argence? Thérèse wanted to shout. It felt so hypocritical.
After the crowd had settled once again, the priest continued. He looked back and forth between Thérèse and Paul as he spoke.
"Now, please repeat after me, starting with Paul. I, Paul, take you, Thérèse, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." Paul repeated back what the priest had said. The priest turned to Thérèse and gave her a quizzical look. She realized that her facial expression likely told the priest she was miserable. She offered a weak smile and quickly nodded, showing she was ready.
"I, Thérèse, take you, Paul, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." Thérèse drew in a deep breath as she prepared to repeat what the priest had said. She could feel her hope of rescue slipping away. She didn't think Henri was coming. No one was coming. Thérèse was on her own.
"I, Thérèse-" Thérèse was cut off by a sudden commotion outside of the chapel doors. It sounded like…hooves? Growing closer? No, that was silly, there wouldn't be a horse in the palace. Or would there? Just as Thérèse realized what was happening, a large white horse burst through the chapel doors. Henri rode atop the steed, brandishing his polished sword. The wedding guests screamed and scattered as the horse charged straight down the aisle toward Paul. The priest bolted immediately, and disappeared into the inner workings of the chapel. A figure rose from one of the front pews and wrapped two arms around Thérèse's midsection, pulling her backwards and off of the altar. Thérèse screamed, and a hand moved over her mouth. The arms released her, and Thérèse turned to see Mehala. Mehala grabbed her hand and yelled over the chaos for Thérèse to come with her. Guards had flooded the chapel and were searching frantically for Thérèse. Bernard, Caram, and Zin followed Henri closely on foot, and began to strike down the guards hand-to-hand. Mehala and Thérèse turned and sprinted through a side door that led out of the chapel.