Papa grinned. “Then you have managed to pass the bauchan!”
“That is the one last service you asked of him, then?” Mama asked, smiling.
“Yes, and I certainly do hope it will be the last… Whup! Next part of the ceremony, folks!”
Hidden musicians peeled forth a solemn but joyous tune, and the crowd parted to form an aisle. Down it came Rosamund, dressed and veiled in white lace, a bouquet in her hands. Lord Orizhan had ducked around to take his place beside her.
As she came up to the altar, Lord Orizhan gave her to Brion, who clasped her hands, eyes wide and incredulous as he stared through the gossamer at her shining, but demure, face.
“This is how it should end,” Mama said with a sigh. “This is how it should always end.”
“Yes, but also how it should begin,” Papa said, with a meaningful glance at his son, “for this is only a wedding. Now begins their greatest work—building a marriage.”
“You don’t have to tell me” Matt gazed at the couple kneeling before the archbishop, but he was really seeing Alisande.