Chapter 4: Breaking Down Barriers (3)

Faint footsteps and the murmurs of dozens of people could be heard from inside the bride’s dressing room. The ceremony was about to begin, and Naavah was fixing her white embroidered veil with shaking hands. Inspecting her reflection in the mirror, she admired her simple dress. With long sleeves, an elegant embroidery at the waist, and small folds in the bottom edges, it complemented both her body, and features. Although she was not the one who chose this wedding dress, she found it mesmerizing. Naavah just hoped that her future actions would not be wrong, not embarass the Duke of Wintkrim. She often fainted or made ludicrous gestures out of nervousness in front of people, but now the memory of Fyodor’s smile encouraged her to at least try to control herself. Albeit she was not in love with this man, she still wanted to make a good impression, especially since they were the main focus of the event. She decided this from the moment she heard that the wedding day was set.

Two weeks have passed since their meeting, and Naavah was forced to remain in bed the whole time due to sickness. It have been impossible for her to help with the preparations for the ceremony, and despite the fact that she was relieved that someone else had to take care of all sorts of details, she still wished to be a part of the event, even a little. During that time, Ubertina, her aunt, gave her advices on how a wife should behave, what her duties wound be, how things would change, while her uncle, Dargan, always reminded her whenever he could, that she must thank them for everything they had done for her. However, the day before was the hardest for her, as she had to travel to her future husband’s manor. When Dargan and Fyodor settled the wedding, they both agreed that it woud be preferable to hold it at Fyodor’s manor. Although Fyodor only wanted this because he thought it would be easier and better for Naavah’s health, Dargan only thought of the inconveniences that would arise if the wedding took place in his own manor. And Naavah knew it from the beginning, but kept her mouth shut to avoid a beating.

After hearing a knock on the door, she saw Ubertina peeking inside the room to announce the beginning of the ceremony. Sighing, Naavah closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, while rubbing her palms, before she took her uncle’s arm. Despite her shallow breathing, she smiled widely upon noticing Fyodor in front of the altar. It was the most desired moment of the whole day, that is, seeing her future husband again, especially after she realized how well the dress fit her. However, she wasn’t the only one impatient for the reunion. When Fyodor spotted Naavah, his heart started pounding so hard, it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He was proud to be this woman’s husband. She was dazzling, but also intriguing. After their first meeting, he pondered the expressed requests and found them promising. Having been in so many military campains among the empire, he knew many stories of marriage, marital flaws, advices regarding the husband’s behavior, and a woman’s way of acting. However, based on her way of speaking, thoughts, values, behaviour, and adorable little gestures, Naavah seemed to be different from all the ladies described in those stories. Therefore, he hoped that she would truly be unlike those women.

The ceremony began and the priest’s words could be heard in the quiet ballroom by every person present. It was common among all people, in spite of their social rank, to listen the sermon of the priest, and although many wanted to comment on Naavah’s dress or Fyodor’s attitude, they did not have the courage. After taking their vows, the crowd started clapping, and saying good things about the couple. Everyone thought the couple looked good together and people always liked to make up stories and gossip about other people’s lives, especially when they had little or no information at all about those involved. Knowing this, both Fyodor, and Dargan tried to prearange a small wedding in an attempt to avoid unnecessary chit-chats. However, there were nobles, marquises, and dukes that the Grand Duke of Wintkrim, Fyodor’s father, wanted, and vehemently requested to be invited to the ceremony. So Dargan took it upon himself to always scrutinise each person and their words.

When the priest left the altar, the Duke and Duchess of Wintkrim were to remain for greetings and gifts from all the guests. Naavah clutched the bouquet of white roses in her hand, trying to comfort herself, despite the fact that she wanted to run and hide from the eyes of strangers. The Wintkrim family was well known throughout the empire, so everyone was eager to meet the Duke’s wife. Even though not many received the invitation to the great event, those present were in an impressive number. It was hard to view everyone in the large room, so it was impossible to see the disgruntled, frowning man in the back. His gaze was fixed always and only on the bride, watching her every move, examining each of her features to better memorize her every detail. He took a few imperceptible steps in Naavah’s direction and tilted his head, staring at her with wide and focused eyes. His senses were disturbed by no other noises, except her voice. Not before he felt he had had enough of her, he vanished from the crowd, unnoticed.

At one point, Naavah felt like fainthing due to pressure, and held her husband’s arm tighter. She wanted to continue with the greetings and gifts, but sensing that something was wrong, Fyodor nudged her and indicated a secluded spot with his eyes. He then excused themselves and led her to a large wooden bench in the small garden from the back of the manor, thinking that her sickness was not completely cured.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, brushing the barely visible dust off the bench before letting her sit.

She hesitated, not knowing how to respond. She was sure that he had already foreseen this, and at the same time did not wanted to make him worry. Moreover, she thought that her dizziness was inconvenient for Fyodor and their guests, even though he did not say it out loud out of respect.

“I am a little dizzy. But I will be fine, don’t worry! It happens to me sometimes.”

Smiling slightly, Fyodor clasped his hands behind his back. It seemed to him that Naavah was trying to downplay her own health, and there were two reasons for that: either she didn’t feel sick at all, or she wanted him to ignore it. The latest was more likely in his opinion.

“Don’t worry! These things can happen to anyone, especially to a bride in her wedding day. I know women who had even fainted while dancing or taking their vows. Besides, it is our wedding and we are the only ones who should feel good and happy. And I am happy.”

Glancing at him, Naavah could see joy and delight, both directed at her. Maybe this marriage will be a good one, or maybe it will be a failure. Either way, they were married now and the wedding had to go on.

He returned to the guests, giving her a few more minutes to calm down. Standing still on the bench, she encouraged herself to go to her husband's side. Yet, uncertainty began to spread in her mind. Will she be punished by him for this moment, like her uncle always did when facing bothersome situations because of her? Or will Fyodor be able to forgive her weakness?

“But the look in his eyes…” she thought, seeing his figure clearly before her eyes.

She smiled slightly.

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