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It wasn’t quite the wedding Mary had expected.
No, it was much grander. And far more romantic.
Even with a rushed elopement, no guests, and a wedding gown crumpled from travel, the setting was undeniably enchanting. The soaring beauty of the cathedral, the solemn priest in his vestments, the spicy fog of incense. Fading sunlight shone through the stained glass windows, sending crescents of blue and red gliding across the floor.
The scene felt magical, timeless.
And she had the handsomest groom. Sebastian had never looked finer. He fit right into the medieval setting. Like a knight in invisible armor, ready to take on an impossible quest. Mary wasn’t certain of her role in this story. Was she the fair maiden he sought to please, or was her broken engagement merely a dragon he needed to slay? His hardened jaw gave no clues.
As the priest began the ceremony, the words washed over her in a hushed murmur.
Sebastian’s part came first, and he nearly stepped on the priest’s words with his firm, “I will.” No hesitation.
Then the priest turned to her. “Mary Elizabeth Clayton, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?”
She nodded. Thus far, everything sounded acceptable.
“Wilt thou obey him…”
Oh, dear.
“…and serve him…”
She cringed.
“…love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live? If so, answer, ‘I will.’”
Mary hesitated.
“If so,” the priest repeated, leaning on the words, “answer, ‘I will.’”
She couldn’t say it. Not quite yet.
She addressed Sebastian directly. “I don’t have to do this, you know. I do have a choice.”
“What choice? To be a ruined spinster surviving on a meager income?”
“It wouldn’t be so bad as you’re implying. At least I’d be free to do as I like.”
“Mary,” he said in a low voice, “this is not the time to argue for the sake of arguing.”
“I’m not arguing. Just listen to me for a moment, will you?”
“I don’t see the point in discussion.”
“Well, I see the point in it,” she said, affronted. “When I have something to say, I’d like to be heard. Especially by the man who’ll be my husband.”
“There’s no way in hell I’m taking you back to—”
“Ahem.” The priest looked perturbed. “Shall we return to the ceremony?”
“I’m paying for a new chapel,” Sebastian snapped. “You can wait until my bride and I are finished speaking.”
Mary found his gruff protectiveness oddly endearing, especially since it came under the imminent threat of damnation.
“I’m making a choice, Sebastian. That’s all I meant to say. When I make these vows, I’m choosing to do so freely. I’m choosing this.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m choosingyou.”
The casual observer would never notice it, but Mary knew her words had a profound effect. The tension left his shoulders, and suddenly his flinty eyes weren’t quite so stern.
