In The Name of Love
58: Married

As Adalberto escorts her down the corridor between the Royal Zoche and the Great Hall of Zosya, Minna resists the urge to pinch herself to be sure that she’s not dreaming. Her whole life, everyone has talked about marriage as though it was this miraculous, life-changing thing, but she doesn’t feel any different than she did before the ceremony. I’m still the same Minna I was when I woke up this morning, she marvels, wondering if Adalberto feels the same, and if this wedding is any different from his first. But looking at him as he walks beside her, holding her arm, Minna replaces herself tongue-tied. Butterflies flutter in her stomach as he smiles at her once again.

“We’ve done the hard part,” he tells her, his voice low and alluring. “From here it’s all feasting and dancing and pretending to like the gifts our guests have brought us.”

“Only pretending?” Minna replies. This idea sounds more like Fifi than Adalberto.

“Most of them will be trying to impress my father with their generosity, rather than giving us things we might actually replace useful. But that part will be tomorrow. This evening is just the supper and then dancing until…we want to retire for the night.”

Minna’s heart jumps into her throat as she remembers what they’re meant to do tonight. The words Adalberto wrote to her on the matter come to mind a moment later. Can I ask about it now? She glances behind them to replace Fifi and Lisandro a few paces away, leading their guests towards the Great Hall. I’ll wait, until we have more privacy, Minna resolves, hoping that won’t be too late.

To her surprise and delight, Adalberto leads her to a small table towards the front of the Great Hall, a short distance from the long table where they sat with the other royalty at supper the night before. Immaculately dressed butlers pull out chairs for them and they take their seats as their guests pour into the hall.

“This is nice,” Minna murmurs, sending Adalberto a shy smile.

“A tradition from the peasantry,” he tells her by way of explanation with a hint of a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I thought it might be nice, to give us a chance to talk to each other without…. I wasn’t expecting Father to ask you about anything political last night. He replaces you most impressive, by the way. He and Mother both like you quite a bit.”

“Oh! That’s…a relief to hear.” A weight Minna didn’t know she was carrying falls off her shoulders. “I’m glad to have pleased them. I hope that makes things…easier. Not that I think you’ve been— I mean, it’s been…so nice, to see you…happy.”

“Thank you for bringing that feeling into my life again.” His dark eyes are full of a warmth that makes Minna’s insides tingle and turn to jelly. She blushes and turns away from him, fumbling for an appropriate response. Her eyes fall by chance on Fifi, who one of the butlers is showing to a seat near the head of the Royal Table, this time between Casimiro and Didier. Poor Fifi… Minna wishes there was something she could do to rescue her sister.

“Did Fifi anger your father in some way?” Minna gestures discreetly towards the Royal Table in response to Adalberto’s confused expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to change the subject—I’m glad that you feel…um…. But last night she was next to—”

“Oh! No, she hasn’t displeased Father. Actually he was impressed with how she handled Emiliano last night, and he found Casimiro’s behavior at supper more problematic than Emiliano’s, and so he made this decision to see if Fifi can…um…temper Casimiro’s worse impulses.”

An incredulous laugh bursts from Minna’s lips. “What was Casimiro doing?”

“Flirting with Sorcha, Princess of Claiamean.”

“She’s just a child!” Minna glances at Sorcha, who sits at the end of the table furthest from Casimiro. In Minna’s estimation, she cannot be more than fourteen, but being a decade younger than Casimiro isn’t stopping her from looking at him like a lovesick puppy.

“Yes, and since Manuela married Prince Conchúr of Claiamean, Father doesn’t need another of his children to marry into that family. Which is more important to him.” Although Adalberto’s tone is expressionless, Minna can see disdain and disgust in his eyes.

All she can do in response is nod. She knows enough of the political games, both from her own Quest for Favor and from sitting in her father’s meetings with his advisors, to understand how King Celestino must be thinking about these things.

“I imagine Prince Didier will be better company for your sister than Casimiro, anyway,” Adalberto adds with a comforting smile. A trumpet sounds, and servants start bringing out the first course, a creamy parsnip soup. Every dish of their wedding feast will feature root vegetables as a symbol of strong roots in the marriage relationship to withstand the storms of life.

Although the bowl of soup in front of her smells delicious, Minna’s stomach turns at Adalberto’s words. “I’m sure Didier is better company, and equally sure she will replace no more pleasure in his company than in Casimiro’s,” she admits so quietly that Adalberto must lean closer to hear her.

“Oh?”

“He…made a poor impression on her, at my Quest for Favor.” Minna doesn’t want to say more. Telling Adalberto the whole truth of what happened regarding Prince Didier seems wholly unnecessary and cruel.

“The Vyrunian ambassador has promised my father an extremely favorable trade agreement in exchange for seating Prince Didier next to your sister at every possible opportunity.”

Minna feels as though a lead weight has settled in her stomach. “King Edmond and his ambassador have been doing everything in their power to convince my father that an alliance between Vyrunia and Aethyrozia will be mutually beneficial, and ought to occur sooner rather than later.”

Silence blooms between the two of them for a moment while Minna reflects on Fifi’s hopelessness in the face of what has been planned for her. She must feel so trapped, especially since she has feelings for… But no, now is not the time to think of such things. Today, of all days, she ought to be allowed to be selfish, to focus on herself and Adalberto. My husband. The title is strange and unfamiliar applied to the tall, handsome man beside her.

“Let’s speak of…other things,” Adalberto suggests, meeting Minna’s eyes with a half-smile. “How does it feel to be married?”

“I…I’m not sure yet. It doesn’t feel…real, if that makes sense,” Minna admits with her cheeks heating up.

“I understand. The wedding doesn’t make a marriage. It’s the days and weeks and months that follow, as we live together and learn more about each other.”

“Speaking of which… In your last letter, you mentioned…tonight….” As much as Minna wants to ask a more coherent question, the words stick in her throat. Her ears feel like they’re on fire, and she knows she has to pull herself together before someone in the Great Hall notices. A glance around her reveals that people seem to be more focused on the food in front of them and the people next to them than the newly wedded royal couple, but Minna fears that could change at any time.

“Only what you are comfortable with, and nothing more,” Adalberto murmurs. “I can sleep on the floor, rather than the bed, if you prefer—”

“I would not ask such a thing of you, and I would think it best that we don’t give the servants cause to gossip—”

“Because of my…circumstances, the expectations are less…stringent. And anyway, if…this is going to work,” —he gestures between himself and Minna— “then we can’t be worried more about what others will think than we are about ourselves.”

“Be that as it may, there is no reason not to share the bed, at least, unless you would rather not, because of—”

“No, I…. She…would have wanted me to go on living. To try again, at….” His voice breaks off.

“I don’t want to rush you. We have to take care of each other.”

“I’m more worried about you than me. I don’t know what they’ve told you to expect, but—”

“I trust you. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

A genuine smile fills Adalberto’s face again, and Minna’s heart melts. “I’m honored. And I promise I will not betray your trust.” He takes her hand and his lips brush across the back of her knuckles.

“You’re wonderful,” Minna murmurs. Thank You, Chuezoh, for leading me to him, for giving me this man as my husband, she prays as her soup is replaced with a potato and mushroom hash. Now more than ever she is convinced that she made the right choice. The only thing that could make her happiness more complete is assurance that her sister could also replace herself so fortunate.