The priest has given them blessings, and by the authority vested upon him, he announced out loud for the people to hear. "You that have been joined together by God, let no one break your bond."
As they turn around and walk towards the heavy oak doors, the grateful heart can be seen in their eyes. Her smile lit up his world, cutting through the shadows of the ancient sanctuary like a sudden beam of light. He is holding her hand tightly, and his eyes are looking at her, completely captivated. He can't hear the loud cheer of the people or the triumphant swell of the lutes and harps echoing off the stone walls. The time is slowing, stretching each second into an eternity. He can't stop watching her tender lips, reddened from their first embrace. He wanted her so badly, a fierce, possessive need tightening in his chest.
While walking towards the door, he can't hold back his overwhelming desire. In front of the entire congregation, right as they pass the mid-way pews where the village elders sit, he stops his stride. He pulls her into his chest and kisses her for the second time, his hand wrapping around the nape of her neck to deepen the embrace. The bouquet of roses and night-blooming flowers she's holding presses between them, adding to her natural scent. A sweet, intoxicating smell is tempting him, driving away every logical thought.
Then, surprising them both, she pulls his collar and kisses him back with an unexpected fervor, letting her bouquet tilt downward. He feels tickles in his neck as she shifts her weight, her lips moving past his jawline to gently kiss his neck, right above his collarbone where his pulse points throbbed. She whispered in his ears, her breath warm against his skin, "I would melt just for you. Keep your eyes straight; I'm not running away."
Aiden lets out a low, breathy laugh, his chest expanding against hers. The loud noise that distracts him and his senses has become dull for a minute, the cheers of the village fading into a distant murmur as her promise anchors him. Hand in hand, they keep walking towards the door until they are standing at the grand church entrance, greeted by the crisp valley air and a sudden shower of dried lavender thrown by the children of Bial.
The bell rings for the second time around, a thunderous, celebratory chime that serves as a signal of their new life together. Smiling brightly at the crowd gathered in the courtyard, she looks back over her shoulder. With a playful wink at Louryn, who is jumping up and down in the front row, she then tosses the bouquet of flowers high into the air for the young ladies to catch, a token of fortune to offer to their own future men. A chaotic, joyful scramble erupts behind them as the bouquet arches beautifully through the morning air.
The ornate carriage outside the church is waiting for the newly wedded husband and wife, its dark wood polished to a mirror shine and its two black horses stamping their hooves impatiently against the cobblestones. He then slipped his hand around her waist and gently carried her towards the carriage, lifting her slightly so the hem of her heavy white silk gown clears the dusty ground, treating her as if she were the most precious treasure in the valley.
Before stepping inside, he pauses on the carriage step. He then faces the people in the church yard, slightly bending his knees and slowly bowing while she's in his arm, wrapped securely with his warmth. It is a profound gesture, showing respect and thanksgiving to the people of Bial who came to witness their union. The crowd responds with a deafening roar of approval. He then turned, continued to walk, and got inside the carriage, pulling the heavy door shut behind them.
Inside the carriage, the thick velvet curtains instantly seal them away from the roaring crowd, plunging the cabin into a quiet, amber-tinted dimness. He is holding her hand passionately, his fingers intertwined with hers so tightly that the metal of their new rings presses together, clicking softly in the silence. Here, in the dim privacy of the interior, his unique eyes are showing brightly, completely clear of the terrifying blue light of his kinsmen. The intense, pitch-black depths of his gaze seem to soften, revealing the heavy toll of the day. He seems to be thoroughly exhausted from the weight of the ceremony, the plotting it took to get here, and the immense spiritual gravity of the vows.
Seeing his fatigue, she gently patted his shoulder with her free hand, her thumb tracing the fine fabric of his coat. She let him rest on her shoulder, guiding his head down to let him take a much-needed nap against the soft silk of her bridal gown. He exhales a long, shuddering breath, completely letting go of his rigid posture as he rests his forehead against her neck.
The sudden silence inside the carriage is like a peaceful melody in the air, a stark contrast to the chaotic noise of the church. She adjusted her position to hold him closer, wrapping her arm securely around his chest, and said in a soft, soothing whisper, "It's fine; you can rest on my shoulder for a while. We still have time before we arrive."