The king made his way to his horse, dressed in the finest caparison, a sort of cape which was part of the horse’s armor.
Horland and Bree walked behind the minstrels and the king rode behind them.
“I’m surprised the king is behind us,” Bree said quietly.
“He is the best swordsman in the kingdom and is therefore our protector as we walk to the church.”
“I hope he doesn’t have any reason to protect us.”
“He won’t, it is tradition.”
Behind the king walked Garlain, his sister, and the princesses. Bree smiled back at Kieri pushing Princess Tilly’s wheeled chair. She was glad they were getting on so well. Both the girls needed a friend.
Her family followed arm-in-arm with one another. Bree smiled. They looked like they were forming some sort of barricade. Nobody would get through, especially as the townspeople lined the sides of the road, cheering the wedding party on.
“Can you tell me what to expect when we get to the church?” Bree asked Horland.
“We will stop at the church and the priest will ask some important questions and once that is done, we will be married. Oh, that’s right, I will give you a purse of thirteen coins which you will give to the poor after the ceremony.”
Bree looked about at the many citizens of Frother; many of them seemed poor enough to qualify. She frowned at Horland. “I don’t think that will be enough.”
He pulled her in closer. “It is tradition, a sign of authority,letting people know you can make financial decisions in my name.”
“Hmm, I can understand needing something like that in this time, but I’m used to handling my own finances.”
“And so you will here too.”
Although they walked for only a mile or a bit over, Bree was glad when she saw the church steeple before her. The minstrels helped keep everyone entertained but the clothes were heavy, and she noted, Garrett had taken the baby from Laura about mid-way through the walk.
The minstrels stopped playing and everyone lined up to either side of Bree and Horland. Horland kept particular attention on keeping Bree to his left side. Bree felt comfortable there and didn’t see the need to object to his positioning of her.
The moment everyone went silent, the priest, dressed in long, gold-lined white robes, raised his voice over their heads.
“How old are the bride and groom?”
Bree swallowed. How did that make a difference? Horland nudged her and she grimaced. “Twenty-seven,” she said, only loud enough for the priest to hear.
Horland grinned at her. “Thirty-three,” he said.
The priest said, “Are the bride and groom related to one another?”
“No,” both Horland and Bree said in unison.
“Does the bride’s father permit the marriage?”
“Yes,” Garlain said.
“Were the banns published correctly?”
Bree’s heart skipped a beat. Banns? No one said anything about banns. She gazed at Horland, hoping to be calmed by his reassurance but instead, his eyes were alight with fear. He looked at Bree in apology.
“Yes,” Morla said.
Bree snapped her head at the princess. “You did that?”
Morla shrugged. “Of course.”
The priest continued, “Do the bride and groom both consent freely to the marriage?”
