Constantina, Part VII

Meda woke me up early, so there would be extra time to get ready. Most of it was the hair—I had to sit still for hours while three people at a time worked on pinning my knee-length amber hair on top of my head and sewing petals and jewels into it.1

Finally, after that, I put the masterpiece on. My dress was absolutely beautiful, white velvet with a golden neck and belt. Simple and elegant, but Mother, tears coming to her eyes when she saw me, assured me that I would be the center of everyone’s attention. Not that I necissarily wanted to be.2

In fact, I wanted to dissappear. I could not get married, I just couldn’t! The engagement had gone too fast, and I felt like the world was moving forward when I just wanted to stay behind.3

It was only an hour before the ceremony began, and I felt horribly sick. Meda, being the fretful maid that she was, was the first to notice. “Oh, dear, you look so pale,” She said. “Here, lay down and close your eyes for awhile. There, now, don’t wrinkle your dress! And your hair—watch the hair!—oh, dear, you’ll have to lay your head on a wooden board.”4

I sighed and sat up from the bed. “Thank you, Meda, but that’s quite alright. I don’t need to rest.”5

That hour seemed like an eternity, at the least. I sat on my bed, try to distract myself. I smoothed out my skirt, I twiddled my thumbs, I even tried working on my drawings, but I could hardly think about anything except what was going to happen soon. I would be married, and live in another home. With a bunch of strangers that I didn’t know, and a man who didn’t even like me for a husband.6

Finally, Mother rushed in the room. “Come, Tina!” She said. “It is time!” We got into a carriage and rode to the local church, not saying a word to each other. When we got there, I was taken into a small room so maids could fix little things—a piece of hair that had fallen out, my belt that had been turned the wrong way. Finally, Father came in and formally held out his arm to escort me, no emotion on his face. I didn’t expect him to carry on or such, but I was a little hurt when I saw that face that could’ve easily been carved from stone, it was so still.7

I forgot about that and walked down the aisle as the doors opened to us. As everyone turned to look at me, I stared at the ground and frantically thought of ways I could escape. I could jump out a window! Or, better yet, turn around and run until I was far away from town. I could always outrun the boys when I was younger, why not now?8

I shook my head and looked up, knowing that those thoughts were frivilous. Just then, I realized how beautiful the church was. Paintings covered the domed ceiling, and long, red curtains hung on either side of the bright colored stained glass windows.9

Then, I realized Father had stopped walking me and had slipped away. I glanced over at Terom, who looked uncomfortable. He seemed to look anywhere but at me, so I internally shrugged and decided to do the same.10

I hardly heard the the priest as he spoke. Those words meant nothing to me, really. Eventually, Terom said, “I do,” so I focused back on the priest, knowing it would soon be my cue.11

“Constatina, do you take Terom to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”12

“I do,” I said, my voice cracking. I bit my lip. So, it was final now, we were married. There was no turning back anymore.13

The celebration lasted the rest of the day, but I didn’t feel like dancing, and neither did Terom. It seemed the whole city was there—even Lord Ator. Well, I stayed away from him, to be certain. It was a miserable day, though ironically it was supposed to be the best day of my life.14

People were still dancing, drinking, and having a merry time when Terom and I left. Not that I wanted to leave, it seemed that, as much as I didn’t want to be there, as long as I WAS there, I wouldn’t have to play the role of wife.15

Anyway, were were taken to his manor, which was now mine, too. Lord Eldwyn went with us, since he had to leave to go fight in the army the very next day. Sensibly, he wanted to get his sleep. Terom and I made a silent agreement that we would sleep in separate beds, even on our wedding night. I loathed him so, I couldn’t bear to be in the same room with him, and I felt like an intruder in his house. I feel asleep quickly, forgetting all of my worries as my head hit the soft pillow. Well, at least it was softer than a wooden board.16