xymnovel Chapter 101 The Big Wedding
Chapter 101 The Big Wedding
With the nation's well-being at heart? Or with the ambition of restoration?
Kantostefanos nearly lost his composure. "You can praise your own king if you want, but why drag my Basilius into it? What does His Majesty have to do with those words?"
Who would believe such a nonsensical answer, especially coming from a 10-year-old child? Cantorstafanos could hardly help but suspect that someone had deliberately taught him to say such things.
"Ahem," Cantorstefanos coughed lightly to cover his embarrassment, "Since Your Highness is unwilling to say so, I will not ask any further."
The banquet continued, and everyone stopped talking and focused on the drinks and food.
After the toasts and drinks were exchanged and the guests had eaten and drunk their fill, the nobles rose and went to the dance floor to continue the ball.
Lyon rubbed his tired eyes; the glamorous music and flickering candlelight made him feel a little dizzy.
He quietly tugged at the sleeve of the Accord beside him, his voice heavy with weariness: "Uncle, let's find a place to rest for a while. This music is making my head feel heavy."
Jacob was sipping his wine when he heard this. He glanced down at his nephew beside him and smiled knowingly. He led Lyon away from the swirling crowd in the center of the dance floor to a niche by a window draped with thick velvet curtains on one side of the hall.
Lyon practically collapsed onto the cold stone platform, letting out a huge yawn. His eyelids began to droop, and he mumbled incoherently, "Uncle, I can't hold on any longer... I'm going to take a nap. But remember... when the consummation ceremony is about to begin, you absolutely must wake me up..."
"A consummation ceremony? God, what nonsense are you talking about?" Jacob gasped, almost choking on the wine in his mouth.
He slammed down his glass, flicked Lyon's forehead lightly with his finger, and said, "What kind of random parchment scrolls have you been looking through in the Library Tower in Jerusalem? Hmm?"
He made the sign of the cross on his chest and said in a sarcastic tone, "At such a young age, to be tainted with such filth, truly a prodigy..."
"Huh? Aren't the guests supposed to go to the newlyweds' room to witness their consummation of the marriage after the wedding banquet?" Leon rubbed his aching forehead. "Isn't that how it's supposed to be?"
"What do you think?!" Accord was almost laughing in anger.
The grooved CK3 misled me!
Lyon waved his hand awkwardly and said listlessly, "This is boring. Let's go back to the hotel and sleep."
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
The feast and ball continued until 7:45 PM, and by 10:45 PM all the guests had left.
Alexius and Isabella, guided by the Lady of the Lamp, entered their bedchamber from the banquet hall via the Purple Corridor.
The floor of the sleeping quarters was covered with a purple hemp carpet, and every ten steps on either side stood a young eunuch holding a candle, the candles lit with holy oil, symbolizing "the light of Christ guiding our steps".
Patriarch Theodosius and Latin Archbishop Heraclius of Jerusalem had been waiting for some time. Beside them, the Lady of the Seal held a silver platter containing a bottle of holy oil, a purple and gold wedding thread, and lamb's blood.
The patriarch and the bishop, each holding a silver cross scepter, crossed above the veil, recited the rites in unison in Greek and Latin:
"Lord, He has illuminated all life."
Illuminate your servants Alexius and Elena.
Let us live together in love, in peace, and in fear.
Bless this bed, may it be a bed of peace, a bed of sanctification, a bed of light.
May the seeds of life bear fruit in them, to glorify your name.
Grant them mercy, grant them peace, grant them wisdom.
Let this darkness become a shadow over the centuries to come.
Amen.
Then, the Patriarch used holy oil to draw a cross with the Greek letter XP in the upper left corner of the veil, and the Bishop drew a Latin cross with the initial of Jesus, ΙΗΣ, in the upper right corner.
The couple simultaneously tied the wedding silk thread horizontally to the golden ring of the veil, forming a "union knot." This thread must not be easily untied until the woman gives birth or the first year of marriage.
After the blessing veil was drawn, the patriarch and the bishop each took a corner of linen with lamb's blood and gently pressed it to the foreheads of the newlyweds, declaring: "May the blood of the lamb, Lord You, sanctify this marriage."
The two retreated to the threshold, turned around at the same time, and pulled the purple velvet curtain closed with their backs to the bedroom.
The final prayer of their ceremony could be heard from outside the door:
"Peace be with you."
May this night be a testament to love.
May your light, Christ, shine upon them.
Amen.
The door was closed, and the lady-in-waiting with the lamps fastened it with a silver lock. The key was given to Bartholomew's mother, Maria, who would personally open the bedroom door at sunrise the following day.
Alexius removed the purple ribbon and gently placed the golden crown of the Komnenos on the table.
Isabella removed the crown of the Basel Lisa, touched her forehead with the iconostasis, and whispered a prayer: "Lord, have mercy on your handmaid."
The two knelt side by side under the statue of the Virgin Mary, holding hands in a knotted thread. Then, with the candlelight flickering and the curtains hanging low, they lay down on the bed.
For a moment, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, with only the heavy breathing of the two people remaining.
Isabella turned her head to look at Alexius and found that he was staring intently at the ceiling.
"What are you thinking about?" Isabella blinked, trying to break the silence.
"I'm looking at the ceiling."
"The statue of the Virgin Mary on the ceiling?"
"Maybe... I get nervous, and when I get nervous I start looking."
Are you really... nervous?
"Um."
"What's there to be nervous about? The most tedious ritual is over, now we can just go to sleep."
"I...I don't know how to talk to girls..."
"But you're telling me all this so readily now," Isabella laughed. "You're Basilius, you should have had lots of girls around you growing up."
"This...this is different..." Alexius's face flushed crimson. "Besides you, there's only one other girl I know well..."
"Oh? Is there anyone else?"
"Yes! Her name is Agnes, the princess of Capet." Alexius's voice suddenly went hoarse when he mentioned that name, as if something was stuck in his throat.
Isabella didn't press for details, but simply waited quietly. After a while, she heard a very soft sob.
"She's dead, it's my fault."
These words, like a piece of red-hot iron, were swallowed by Alexius, leaving a burning pain in his chest.
Isabella remained silent; she didn't speak immediately, but instead reached out her fingertips and gently grasped his hand, which was resting against her chest.
“Then tell me her story.” Isabella looked into his eyes. “Not Basilius to Bartheliza, but Alexius to Elena.”
The boy took a deep breath, his voice almost inaudible: "Andronica... Andronica is choking Agnes. I'm a coward, holding a sword, yet I dare not swing it at that coward for Agnes..."
His fingertips trembled slightly, and Isabella covered her other hand with hers, gently taking it in hers.
"So you feel you no longer deserve to laugh, to speak, or to like someone?"
Alexius did not answer, but his eyes reddened.
Isabella softened her voice, as if coaxing a frightened bird: "Then let tonight be the end of the past. Agnes protected you, not so that you would live in the past forever."
She propped herself up, reached out and took the knotted thread from her hair, coiled it into a small loop in the candlelight, and gently slipped it onto his wrist: "This is unity, and also liberation. From today onward, you are no longer carrying her alone."
The boy looked at the purple-gold thread around his wrist, then suddenly buried his face in his palms, his shoulders shaking silently.
Isabella didn't say anything more, but simply reached out and gently pulled him to her shoulder, like siblings, or friends.
"Cry, Alexius. When you're done crying, stand up. Tomorrow, we'll stand together again on the high platform of the arena, so that all of Constantinople can see that their Basilius is a leader who commands thousands of troops from his chariot, surrounded by the most powerful heavy cavalry in the world."
The boy's sobs gradually subsided, and he gripped the silk thread on his wrist even tighter.
The night has passed.