The Sinful Young Master

The music stopped.

From a door on one side of the room, a new man entered.

The music started again, but this time it was a little tune with flutes.

He was a priest from the temple in Odrugon. Two of his apprentices kept near him. The priest had a tall hat with fine silk patches in vertical rows. His gown had a pattern of silver and white that resembled flowing water. He quietly walked over to the centre and stood in a spot behind the Patriarch's cloak.

Again, the music stopped.

Those doors were opened again.

Horns, flutes, drums, lyres, tambourines. Slow but triumphant music.

The bride and the groom entered the room.

Lady Liliana, the eldest daughter of Naemarys, and Lorryll, the eldest son of Kaezhlar, strode side by side. They both were of the same age, in their mid twenties.

Their march was even slower than the patriarch had been—a cautious march—a prudent march.

Lorryll's wedding attire was long golden robes, and Liliana wore a gown of delicate ivory lace. Her hair came down in loose waves, adorned with small white flowers that matched the ones in her bouquet.

She was like a fairy.

She moved with elegant purpose, likely with no vulgar thoughts, but her body was so delightfully womanly. She'd gained enough weight. She was back to her normal, pleasant figure. Her smaller waist enhanced the wider curves of her hips. Her bosom's shape, while adequately covered, was still eye-catching. She was holding a tiny bouquet of white roses in her belly. Her pale hands were clean and well groomed, the rings making them seem even smaller. Her arms were only just slender enough.

She was the brightest star. The elegant little canvas that had been turned into a piece of art. The beautiful maiden dressed in the most honourable and ostentatious clothing and jewels. The bride would soon have each piece of finery plucked and shucked away, bit by bit.

Perhaps one would think she was purposely trying to be solemn, or maybe one would think she was emotionally overwhelmed and wanted to cry from pure joy.

However, there was the idea that she was terribly uncomfortable in many ways, and she might even hate all the physical and metaphorical weight placed on her body.

Whatever the reason, by the time Liliana was halfway down the room's wide aisle, she'd seemed to calm her nerves enough to merely pout like an upset child.

At first, as the Lorryll watched his bride, his eyes were ignited with lust.

But then, as the little woman moved forward, something else mixed in with his feelings.

She was just...

She was so cute! She was like a sad little baby puppy!

She was a soft, whimpering little puppy with pale blonde fur and big, pretty eyes! She was the most darling little thing on this planet, and he knew he had to appreciate that!

He almost grinned.

But something hid away any desire to grin.

The couple took new positions, facing each other before the priest. The priest then spoke. It was technically a lecture. Unity, loyalty, peace, and honour. Those sorts of things were promoted.

Lorryll brain only glossed over his words. They weren't very interesting to him.

What was interesting was how Liliana's breathing had her chest rising and falling so evenly.

Another interesting thing was how her lower lip quivered by only a trace at certain points.

After a while, the priest finished his speech.

The couple exchanged garlands. Then the groom tied a golden thread around her neck; it was a symbol that their marriage had been done in the presence of their family and a priest.

Once that was done, a handful of even more servants entered the room. They had a second cloak. It was long and black with gold and silver colours. The lining and trimming were the beloved ermine fur. Those servants helped to put this cloak over bride's shoulders.

Lorryll took Liliana's hand, and they faced the audience. Polite applause greeted them. Then music followed them as they marched down the aisle.