Realizing for the first time how much mother and daughter had in common, I followed Lady Kingsclere into her bedroom, and over to the large wooden wardrobe where I had found the blue dress. Feeling slightly guilty, even though Lady Kingsclere had been made aware of the “borrowing” I had done and had not objected, I watched as she pulled a white box from the back of the wardrobe. “Here,” she said, handing it to me. I opened it.
Inside of the box was the most beautiful wedding dress I had ever seen. It was light blue silk, with a flipped v of white from waist to hemline. The same white color covered the neck and shoulders. The blue section of the dress was embroidered with silver thread, and the white section with gold. It was obviously not just a wedding dress, but a noble heirloom that had been passed down through several generations.
“Did you wear this at your first wedding?” I gasped, still admiring the dress. “It's beautiful.”
Lady Kingsclere smiled, and though I knew she was remembering, she did not look crushed or despondent. Instead she appeared almost nostalgic, even happy. “Yes, I did. That was one of the happiest days of my life. I want your wedding to be just as happy.”
With a wave of joy and affection, I gave Lady Kingsclere a light hug, not wanting to crush the dress box, and he returned the embrace. She seemed to understand all that I could not say. I finally managed, “Thank you. Thank you so much...”
“There is only one stipulation,” she said, lowering her eyebrows seriously.
“What?”
“You must pass the dress on to my granddaughter, provided it fits.” I had the decency to blush.
***
Our wedding was not at all like my childhood fantasies. It was infinitely better. Having been a guest at several weddings, including my father's second marriage; I had expected my own to take place in a large cathedral with several hundred onlookers. I was titled, even though I had not been born into it, and I was a curiosity, if nothing else.
Instead, the small ceremony took place outside, in the open air. A steady, gentle wind blew from the north. We gathered beneath my mother's hazel tree, and I knew she could see how happy her daughter was. There was color everywhere, the blue of the sky and the green of the leaves, and the sun was strong and warm on our smiling faces.
Cate and Sarah stood with me. Belle, after many sleepless nights of soul searching, had asked her mother to stand with her, and I could not have been prouder of her choice. Mam, Matthew, and even Brahms, Corynne, Jessith, and the rest of the cats were invited, although Trugel slept through most of the ceremony. Because it was such a tiny gathering, no one thought it strange that I wanted two horses and several cats to attend my wedding, or that wild birds attempted to perch on my shoulders as I said my vows, wanting to be included.
The Honorable Father Matthias, a very sweet but slightly forgetful old man, presided. He had known me when I was a child growing up at Sandleford, and when I discreetly inquired his opinion about a “nontraditional” ceremony, he revealed that he had performed such services before. I was surprised and a little relieved to hear that Belle and I were not the only nobility joined in a secret marriage. Of course, dear old Father Matthias did not give me the names of the people in question and I was too polite to ask, even though I was dreadfully curious.
I wore Lady Kingsclere's beautiful dress and a traditional crown of orange blossoms, but at the very front, just above my forehead, I had tucked a white rose, one of the same blooms that grew at Sandleford. The beautiful roses were thriving in Baxstresse's new garden, which Belle was helping me plant. A gold linked necklace with white jasper rested around my throat, another gift from Lady Kingsclere. My hair hung loose around my shoulders and I felt beautiful because Belle loved me enough to marry me.
Years later, I cannot remember exactly what we said as we recited, in Old Serian, our vows of faithfulness, love, and honor. What I do remember is the loving way Belle smiled at me, the softness and warmth of her hand as it held mine, and her sure, steady breaths as she stood beside me. I remember the tears in Cate's eyes that she tried to blink away and Sarah's secret wink. I remember Lady Kingsclere looking at Belle, her daughter, and me, her daughter's wife, with a youthful happiness that transcended time and memory. I was sure she was thinking of Alastair, but not with feelings of loss or regret.
And so when I said those two words that bound my lover and I forever—”I do”—and she kissed me, I knew we would live happily ever after.
I would have picked you daffodils,
But with a smile, you took my hand.
You kissed me where the river ran
And called me lady fair.
Instead I picked you bluebells, dear,
And with a smile, you led me through
The ivy trellised garden gate,
A white rose in my hair.
The Marriage poem of Lady Eleanor Kingsclere To her wife, Lady Belladonna Kingsclere.
Here ends the First diary of Eleanor of Sandleford, wife of Lady Belladonna Kingsclere. Preserved in the Royal Library by Princess Rowena of Seria, granddaughter of King Brendan and his wife, Queen Sarah.
The End
About the Author
Rae D. Magdon
Rae D. Magdon is a writer living and working in the state of Alaska. Over the past few years, she has written several lesbian-themed novels, including Dark Horizons, The Second Sister, and her first published work, All The Pretty Things coauthored with Michelle Magly. She enjoys writing fantasy and science fiction, in addition to modern-day romances. When she is not writing original fiction, she wastes spends her time dabbling in unapologetically smutty romantic lesbian fanfiction. Her favorite fandoms are Law & Order: SVU and Mass Effect. In her free moments, which are few and far between, she enjoys spending time with Tory, her fiancée of ten years, and their two cats.
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Other books from Desert Palm Press
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Desert Palm Press
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The Second Sister (The Amendyr Series) Page 23