The Long Awaited Marriage

The fated day that Diana had long dreamed of had come. She never imagined the day to be so full of joy. Not only was she marrying somebody that she loved, despite the circumstances that had brought them together. But she was bringing a new age for her people.
She would not only be the first woman in Stalavat to marry, but she was giving the other shield maidens the opportunity to become married women themselves. Freedom that was taken by them long ago by their institutions.

Diana stood still as her sister fastened the last of the thirty tiny buttons down her spine, the heavy silk finally settling into a perfect, sculpted fit.

“There you go!” Phillipus said, slapping her sister's hind. Diana grew flustered at her sister's action, finding it not to be appropriate. While Hermes sighed at Phillipus’ antics, Deva just laughed it off.

“Phillipus!” Diana barked.

“No, no, sister!” Phillipus said. “Today is a special day, and you will not talk to me like the Jarl! You will talk to me like my sister and accept the foolishness that comes with it!”

Hermes grabbed her face, not out of disappointment at Phillipus’ antics. But because it was the first time in years that the three had a moment like this. “If there is one thing that came about this change, sister, it has to be that smile of yours returning to your face. I have not seen you this happy since we were children.”

“Ever since you became the Jarl,” Hermes continued. “You became distance with us. You treated us like others — ignoring the family ties. I am happy to see that idiot you are head over heels for has brought my sister back to me.”

“I could not agree more, Hermes!” Phillipus chimed in. “So, sister, I do mean to rush you. But when are you and Illya, you know…”

“Me and Illya, what?” Diana said.

“Well you know,” Phillips said, growing red in the face. “You know what I am talking about…”

“No? I do not know?” Diana said.

“When are you going to have your babies!” Phillipus blurted out, causing the other woman within the room to widen their eyes at the comment.

“Phillipus!” Hermes yelled, not pleased by her younger sister’s comments.

Deva simply giggled, not making a comment. “Well,” Diana muttered, her voice shaky and weak. “I do not know if that can ever happen. I am twenty-seven years old, Phillipus. Perhaps, my time to be a mother has passed.”

“Nonsense!” Deva exclaimed, forcing herself into the conversation surprisingly. Phillipus eyed her, forgetting that she was there. “You are still young, and I believe you and the young lord can still have children together. I myself am thirty years old, and I never lost the hopes of one day being a mother.”

“Very encouraging words,” Hermes commented, taking a look at the woman that she had failed to notice. “And who may you be? I got caught up in helping my sister with her dress that I failed to notice. You mentioned a young lord. Do you mean Illya?”

“Yes, she does,” Diana interrupted, covering for Deva. “She is the new servant of my soon-to-be husband, and I asked Illya to leave her with me for the day.”

“Hmm,” Hermes said, still not convinced. “I guess, I can settle with that for now.”

“Something is off about her, Hermes,” Phillipus added. “However, it is best not to focus on her! The one to focus on is the beautiful woman before us! My big sister!”

The conversation is cut short by the sound of the wedding horns — low, booming blasts that echo through the stone corridors. The time for the sisterly banter and “baby talk” has come to an end.

As Diana stands, her heavy silk skirts rustling, she catches Deva’s eye. A silent warning passes between them: ‘No more talking’. Deva quickly lowers her veil, disappearing back into the shadows.

As the three sisters descended the stairs toward the Great Hall, Hermes could not help but look back at Deva. She noticed that when they turned a corner, the servant did not stumble — she maneuvered her long robe with the practiced ease of someone who had worn ceremonial silk all her life.

As Hermes observed Deva, the young sister whispered in Diana’s ear. “Sister, if she is just a servant, why does she have the hands of a woman who has never touched a washbasin?”

Phillipus’ whisper sent shivers down Diana’s spine. Maybe Illya was right, Phillipus was the sixth problem — not Stanillo.

On the other hand, the young Illya patiently waited for Diana at the altar. The wedding had him tensed much more than the battlefield ever did. One day, Illya found himself fighting a gruesome battle. The next, he found himself waiting at an altar for his woman.

As for the elders of the defenders and shield maidens, they were quite ecstatic to hear that Diana had decided to tie the knot so soon. The quicker she gets Illya tied, the easier it will be to negotiate with Belomas.

The elders of the defenders found Diana’s choice to be appropriate, considering this was the perfect opportunity to display the new change within Stalavat. Many of the women, men, and children were in attendance.

However, not a single person from Belomas was in attendance. Illya did not inform anybody that the wedding was going to happen today. In all truth, the boy wished to escape the troubles that Belomas had brought to him.

For once, he wanted to have a moment to himself. Although, he had qualms about not inviting his mother, who he knew had been waiting for this moment. It would have been great to see his younger brothers running around, but most importantly to see Iziaslav, his younger brother, who he adored.

Iziaslav was the brother that he was close to. It would have been great to have Stanillo here, too, but perhaps it was for the best that he spent his day with the only person he needed at his side — Diana.

When the time was right, he would reintroduce Diana to his mother. Although, the first encounter between Diana and his mother was not exactly the best. It also did not help that his mother was attached to Coria.

As Illya took these thoughts in, a boy approached him. He could not have been much older than himself.

“Greetings,” he said. “I am Phillip, the brother of the late Alexander.”

“Oh,” Illya uttered, reaching to shake the boy’s hand. The two shook hands, each delighted to see one another. “I did not know the late Jarl had a brother, especially one around my age.”

“It is not a well-known fact,” Phillip replied. “But I did not come to talk about me nor my brother. Congratulations on your wedding with Diana. Do right by her. My brother loved her dearly.”

“Will do,” Illya said, reassuring Phillip he had the best intentions.

“I must admit that I am happy to see the changes Diana has made,” Phillip said. “This is what my father and brother dreamed of. If only they lived a little longer to see this sight.”

“They can rest easy, knowing their descendants will live a much more fulfilled life,” Illya said.

“Honestly, I could not believe I had a change of heart overnight,” Phillip added. “Then, I was told about the wedding. Everything added up. The woman had fallen in love. “

Illya laughed. “Yes, it is quite the change,” he said. “She and I have known each other for a little time, but I know that she is the right one for me. The last month I spent with her, I got to experience the good and bad with her.”

“She is quite the handful,” he continued. “Her attitude is quite a lot to handle, but I love her.”

“That I can agree on,” Phillip said.

As the two converted, the wedding horns went off. Phillip patted Illya’s shoulder. “Well, I must get going now,” he said. “But before I go, I have to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Illya said.

“Thank you for making this all possible,” Phillip clarified. “Without you, the dream of my late father and brother could not have come true. It was the love you gave Diana that made this possible. Thank you, Illya of Belomas!”

The horns had faded, and the crowd fell into a hushed, expectant silence. Diana is now at the end of the aisle. Illya nearly fell back, stunted by how beautiful Diana looked. She looked like a goddess in human form.

The dress highlighted the natural curves of her body. Her eyes were glowing with light, she smiled as she saw his jaw drop. Hermes and Phillipus looked at each other, nodding their heads with smiles at how head over the heels their sister and brother-in-law are for each other.

Illya could not wait for her to come to him. He dashed towards her, putting his hand arm on her waist — slowly walking to the altar where the priest was waiting.

“You could not wait,” Diana said, biting her lip at seeing her groom well-dressed.

“Can you blame me?” Illya whispered, his eyes looking at every part of her, but her eyes.

As the couple reaches the altar, Hermes and Phillipus are forced to close the gap behind them. They are now standing closer to Deva than ever before. Deva trembled slightly from the glares of the two sisters.

“Something about you,” Phillips noted. “Just does not feel right.”

“Whatever it may be,” Hermes added. “We will find out the truth.”

Deva gulped. “Please,” she said. “It is not the time for suspicions. We are at the wedding of my master and his mistress.”

“Yes, we are,” Hermes replied. “But it will not help you escape my suspicions.”

While the sisters and Deva are locked in a tug of war, Illya and Diana are locked in a bubble of desperate romance.

The priest raises his hands, oblivious to the simmering tension in front of him. “Before we proceed to the binding of hands, let any soul who knows of an impediment to this union speak now, or forever hold your speech.

Illya and Diana looked around. No person in the audience stepped forward. Illya grabbed onto Diana’s hands, his dazzling smile illuminated the hall.

The priest begins to unfurl the ceremonial silk cord. This is the point of no return. Once the knot is tied, the two souls are considered one singular entity.

The priest takes Illya’s right hand and Diana’s left, crossing them over to the altar. “I bind you. Your burdens are now shared. Your secrets are one. Your lives are one. What was once yours is now each other's.”

The priest raised his staff, his voice booming to the very edges of the roofless hall, where the common people of Stalavat began to cheer.

“I present to you: Nobleman Illya and the Jarl of Stalavat! One heart, one body, and one mind!”

The cheers are deafening, drowning out the wind and troubles of the week. Illya leans in, his forehead resting against Diana’s for a fleeting moment of privacy.

“We did it,” he whispers, the cord still binding their wrists together. “Whatever happens…whatever is put in our way…we will handle it together.”

“I know,” Diana whispered, not doubting his words. “But right now…let us enjoy our day. Because this day is just as much as it is yours.”

Diana did not want to hear another thing from his mouth. She kissed him. The audience erupted in awe at how the Jarl was devouring her own husband!

While the hall shakes with cheers, the reaction within Diana’s circle is a flurry of emotions. Phillipus was whistling and cheering on the loudest. Hermes stood there with a tearful smile, trying not to cry at the sight. Deva watched with a bittersweet ache — having dreamed of one day being in that position with the late Alkibiades.

Diana breaks the kiss, breathless and glowing, her hand lingering on Illya’s chest. “The first dance is mine, my husband,” Diana says, her voice low and playful, her eyes challenging him. “And do not fight me over this. No one denies the Jarl on what she wants.”

“No one?” Illya said. He grabbed onto her waist, pulling his face close to his. “I would not be so sure of that…”

The musicians began to strike a low, rhythmic beat. A dance that starts slowly and builds into a whirlwind.

“Lead then, my lady,” Illya whispers, his breath war against her ear as the music swells. “But remember…tonight I will father a child with you.”

“Illya!” Diana exclaimed, her voice slightly higher. “Lower your tone!”

“Oh, please,” Illya grinned. “As if you are going to escape me tonight. You escaped the month prior because of the time we spent training, but I will not allow it on our day.”

“As if I would allow you to deny me the privilege,” Diana laughed.

As the day settled, the newlyweds spent their day socializing and attending to their guests. The young Illya made the effort to meet the elders of the defenders and shield maidens. He found them to be quite capable of aiding Diana in her quest for a new Stalavat.

On the other hand, Diana spent her time with Hermes and Phillipus. The three sisters could not help, but cherish this moment. This was the beginning of something new. Something great that will bring about a new age for their country.

As the day came to an end, the new weds found themselves beginning their honeymoon before midnight. The heavy oak doors of the Jarl’s private chambers finally click shut, muffling the chatter from the people outside. For the first time, the air is not thick with the scent of wet wool, iron, wood smoke. Instead, the room is bathed in the warm, golden flicker of the hearth and the soft aroma of dried lavender.

Diana reached for the fastenings of her white silk gown, but her fingers, usually steady, trembled slightly. Illya crosses the room, his boots silent on the thick furs. He does not wait for her to ask. He moves behind her, his hands replacing hers with the silk ties.

As he works his way through the complicated knots, he leans down, his forehead resting against the nape of his neck. The tensions between Belomas that were on his shoulders began to dissolve.

As the silk gown finally slips to the floor, Diana turns in his arms. She looks up at him, her eyes reflecting his.

“You said you would not allow me to escape you tonight,” she whispers, her hands finding the back of his neck, pulling him back into her space. “I find myself not wanting to run from you.”

Illya smiled — a genuine, private smile that he only reserved for her. He picks her up. The night was young, and for a few precious hours, the problems of their public life were locked outside the door. There is only the sounds of love and rising heartbeat of the two people who had won a victory far greater than one of conquest.