Chapter 4 #2
Once the vows had been made, the priest joined their hands and presented them to their families.
Max barked, and there were cheers and applause, but Kirsten didn’t feel at all like she had expected to.
It was as though the wedding hadn’t really happened at all.
It didn’t feel like a momentous occasion, and she was left fearing that the rest of her life would be this unfulfilling.
Still, Marcas showed little emotion. As soon as their hands were unjoined, he turned around and crouched down, petting Max. He showed more affection towards his dog than he did his wife. Kirsten pouted, even as her brothers came up to her and congratulated her.
“Now, I know that we had a small ceremony at Marcas’s insistence, but that was on the provision that I should make the arrangements for the feast afterwards!
” Roderick boomed in an excited voice. He clapped his hands, and as soon as he did, servants and other members of the clan poured in.
It was a cavalcade of color and noise. A band struck up a merry tune, and the air became alive with music.
Servants carried in platters of meat and mugs of ale and mead, sharing them out without any hesitation.
Roderick greeted all the guests with words of joy and pointed to the bride, announcing her as Lady Monroe.
A great cheer went up, and Kirsten found herself wishing that Marcas was as enthused as Roderick.
She turned to look at her husband, hoping that he at least appreciated the crowd that had come to celebrate with them, but instead, his attention was on his dog.
The party continued. Kirsten had some food to settle her stomach and stayed in close proximity to her husband, as was the right and proper thing to do.
Marcas remained impassive and stoic, though.
He greeted people when they came up to him to offer their congratulations, but he never sought anyone out.
He didn’t even tap his feet or drum his fingers along a table to show that he was letting his thoughts get carried away on a tune.
Moira was flitting around between various people, making sure that everyone was having a good time.
Moira and Roderick were fine examples of people, and Kirsten had no qualms about becoming a part of their family, but why couldn’t Marcas be more like his kin?
She worried he would forever be distant from her.
He did not treat her as she always imagined a man should treat his wife.
He did not look at her in the way she had expected to be looked at, and even though it was her wedding, she felt herself being poisoned by sorrow.
The rest of the family tried to do all they could to prevent this from happening.
There were toasts given, celebrating the union of these two families and anticipating a wonderful future for them both.
The words were met with huge, rousing cheers, and for a moment, Kirsten allowed herself to be lost in these kind wishes and to pretend that her husband felt the same way too.
As people drank more, they started to dance. Neil and Ramsay both pulled their sister away to dance with her. Ramsay, being the elder of the two, was sensible, and she enjoyed a nice dance with him.
“I know this is nae the wedding ye dreamed of, but it doesnae mean the rest of yer life is gaeing tae be like this,” he said.
“It’ll all work out for the best. Life haes a way of daeing that, and our parents are gaeing tae be mighty proud of ye,” he said.
The words were kind, and Kirsten tried to believe they were said with the best of intentions rather than trying to placate her and reassure her that it was all going to be fine.
When Ramsay was done, Neil took his place and whisked her around in an exuberant manner, practically ordering the band to play a song that had a high tempo.
Laughter rose around them as the siblings whirled themselves around like a tornado.
Kirsten’s hair whipped around her as she threw back her head in a throaty laugh.
Neil could always make her laugh, and she loved him for it.
They went around and around in circles, and when they finally stopped dancing, Kirsten felt as though she had drunk a barrel of ale.
She staggered around, feeling dizzy. Her head was spinning, but she had a smile on her face.
She was finally beginning to enjoy the wedding.
“Would ye mind if I hae a dance with the beautiful bride?” Roderick said, smiling at Neil.
Neil bowed and walked away from his sister.
Kirsten’s head was still spinning. Roderick’s hands slipped into hers with ease.
He was strong and graceful, and as was the case when he had walked her to the hall, she felt supported by him.
They danced gently, and the turbulent sensations inside Kirsten’s body began to fade, which was a relief.
“Ye are gaeing tae light up this place,” Roderick said.
“There is no fairer beauty in the land. Marcas is a lucky man.” Kirsten smiled in response and wished that Marcas felt that way.
Although she didn’t think there was anything odd about dancing with her new uncle, she did find it a little strange that she was dancing with him before she was dancing with her husband.
As she was twirled around, her gaze met Marcas’s.
He stared at her intently, his jaw clenched.
There appeared to be something like a snarl on his face, and she wasn’t sure why.
All she was doing was ingratiating herself with his family, as any new bride should do.
Her heart was filled with conflict as she wondered what she had done wrong.
In a way, it seemed as though just her being there was wrong, and she wondered if there was any way for her to bring a smile to Marcas’s face.
All through the night, Kirsten waited for Marcas to ask her to dance, but he never did.
Occasionally, she saw people whispering while exchanging pointed glances at her, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck pricked up.
She was almost certain they were talking about her, and likely how humiliating it was that her husband showed such little interest in her.
He was more interested in Max. And, to be fair, Max was a natural at grabbing attention.
He performed a few tricks and gamboled around, taking advantage of the guests’ generosity who delighted in tossing him meat that he plucked from the air.
He also went up to the stage and was involved in one of the songs, accompanying the music with loud barks.
Even Kirsten allowed herself to smirk at his antics, but always afterward, her gaze drifted towards Marcas, and she found him with the same scowl on his face.
She could well imagine that he wanted everyone to be gone, and was quite surprised that at no point during the evening did he storm through the hall with a great clatter and declare that the party was over and everyone should leave.
Perhaps that was part of the deal he had made with Roderick.
Kirsten’s heart was filled with doubt. Was Marcas ashamed of being seen with her?
He hadn’t wanted anyone at the ceremony, and during this feast, he had barely paid attention to her at all.
It seemed that he would rather sit sullenly in the shadows of the hall rather than stand proudly beside her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something deeply displeasing about her.
Was Roderick just being polite when he spoke those kind words?
It was a horrible thing to feel, and sadly Kirsten spent her wedding feast mired in doubt.