Thursday, May 30th, 307 AC
The journey was not an uncomfortable one at all: each and every invited house of the peerage given their own luxurious carriage to accommodate their attendees, the procession of horse-drawn vehicles trundling along the cobbled roads winding down from the Crown Isle to the more southern portion of Brissiaud. Among the banners flying there were those of House Howlester, Ravenstad, Black, du Brierüst, Peirgarten, Harhold, and Delmotte: each standard swaying and whipping with the occasional breeze.
After about half a day's travel, the Redmarshes lay before them: vast swaths of coastal morass covered in dense thickets of winding, labyrinthian trees. In the northern reaches, just bordering the Hinterlands, lay Maraisburke. Within it, nestled by the mountains, the destination: Castle Havenghul.
The carriages emerged from the tunnel and passed by the vineyard and barley fields, all eventually pulling to an organized stop upon the stone court sprawled just outside of the castle's doors. One by one, servants came to open the doors and aid their passengers in climbing out.
They were greeted there by Elaine and Francis du Brierüst, the Countess' parents: a wiry-looking couple with the old, gloomy airs of Brissiaud about their clothing and features. They wore warm expressions, nonetheless, and helped to lead all gathered onward into the castle's halls. Past old portraits and sets of antique armor and weaponry upon the walls they all walked, winding across the ornately-tiled floor of the dim chateau: images of creeping roses and brambles laid in dull green and red layered into the flooring.
Their path eventually brought them to the castle's chapel, decorated with the standards and colors of Ravenstad upon the right and those of du Brierüst on the left. Pews lined each side of the isle, each row marked for a house in particular by a flower arrangement matching their colors. Sunlight streamed upon the whole scene from the towering windows at the back, framing the elevated altar before them all. Seats were then taken by the guests, and then the band began to play.
In the front on the left sat Elaine and Francis, with Constanze's sister Maryse and her cousin Leufred (who spared not a single minute to stop smiling smugly at the entirety of this affair) next to her. Elderly Rosalie and her son Dragomir, along with his sister Valentina, her husband Artur, and their children Damien and Anise. Behind them, the Howlesters: Prince Sovereign Rodderick and his consort Katriane notably. The third row was occupied by the Peirgarten family, with Amelina and Rodrigo, Julius and Alaine and finally Noelle. Hengest Harhold made idle chatter with a serving girl, his single eye glinting lecherously while he shared uncomfortable details about his hounds' diets-- until his daughter Agatha hushed him as the song began. Digmaan Cro-zzhin Yaotl was a distinct sight amongst those present, but his fineries were perhaps the most impressive of all gathered.
On the right side, frontmost, was Ravenstad: Erwald, Emmeline and a place for the bride's father Percival. Lirienne waited to silently judge the to-be-wed's garb. Just behind them sat Richarr, Mirielle Howlester, Vulmar, and Brandt Norrvakt, the grand duke's palest. In the following rows were the select few of Kade in attendance, and then Louis Delmotte along with Christopher Black, his wife Dianne, and his cousin Dahlia. Among the few house guard stationed in the room stood the Lord Chancellor's First Shield Vivana in a set of decorative burgundy armor featuring the emblazoned antlers of an elk wrapped in thorns. The house's servants Elyon and Syriel found themselves in the back pews, as well.
At the front, upon the altar, with an old book clutched under one plated arm, was Renault the Horned: a Lion Pelt Knight of renown in Maraisburke and a personal blade of du Brierüst. Being this was naught but a state union (a rather ceremonious one, it would be noted), his administration of the marriage was nothing but a symbolic one: and important symbol nonetheless, as he had long been a holy and steadfast servant of the family.
It did not take longer than a few measures of music to play before the Countess emerged from a flanking entrance. As was Leutz tradition, she wore a set of heraldic, ceremonial armor: most likely the first time she'd ever worn anything like it in her years. It was a burnished, dark gray from head to toe, with a rich red cloak attached to her right shoulder where the pauldron there was decorated with a bushel of silken roses ranging from burgundy to shimmering silver. Most notable about its make, however, was the ornate inlay: mossy green stems and twining brambles ran all about the cuirass and greaves, decorated by the occasional rose, until all came to a twined knot in the center to form the silhouette of the house's elk. She climbed onto the altar, and stopped there: offering a nod to her childhood sparring partner.
Thereafter, the bride's march began. Percival Ravenstad emerged from the back of the chapel with his arm looped with his daughter's. Eléonore walked with him, her own dress of an almost-ethereal white that began just shy of her shoulders and collarbone and draped downward to the floor. Accents of gold and crimson ran all along the top and down the middle, the cloth pulling along with each graceful step and almost seeming to ripple in time with the chipper music echoing from the string quartet in the corner. Upon reaching the altar, Percy let her climb it, and then went to take his seat in the righthand front row. The couple faced one another, of noticeably equivalent height, and stood entirely still. The song ended there, and then the proceedings began.
The Horned Knight cracked the tome open and began to read aloud from it. It was tradition in the family that the House's story be read at every wedding, for it told of their roots and was a tale to be shared with every generation of Maraisburke's folk. Renault regaled them with the story of the Briar Knight: a hedge knight and Bloodcast fellow named Aloys who, upon the eve of a great battle, celebrated far too vigorously and found himself slumbering in a thorny bush. He overslept, missing the battle's beginning, and hastily charged toward the field with his armor all tangled up with thorns and brambles. He fought with vigor and courage, cutting a bloody and terrifying swath through the opposing army, and ultimately they were victorious. For the sheer terror he struck into the other soldiers' hearts and the winning part he played, Aloys was given the Lord's youngest daughter to marry and the small, boggy castle town of Sumpfort to lord over. He was named 'Brierüst', or 'Briar-armor' for it, and thus began the family's legacy.
After the story was read, then was an exchanging of vows: simple but effective ones, where Constanze and Eléonore pledged love and fidelity to one another in equality, and promised to be wives so long as they still drew breath. Once those words were finished, then came the last gesture; Renault first placed a circlet made of antlers cresting forward and wrapped with dark silver brambles into the Ravenstad's hands, for her to crown the Countess with. Her head bowed, and so Eléonore did: laying the circlet in her steely blonde hair. The likewise then was done for her, as Constanze was given a similar circlet to place in her betrothed's ginger locks, and once it was nestled there, the two looked into each other's eyes once more. A beat, and then a step forward for both, punctuated by a kiss.
The band struck up joyously once more, and applause echoed through the halls, as the knight smiled and called aloud,
The band struck up joyously once more, and applause echoed through the halls, as the knight smiled and called aloud,
"Long live thy love, Constanze and Eléonore du Brierüst."
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