Tore’s voice wobbled as he caught sight of his daughter-in-law-to-be wearing the crown, and he closed his eyes to try and keep it together. Greta was glowing, the picture of elegance andgrace as she glided down the aisle, holding a bunch of long-stemmed red roses, tied with a white ribbon.
Jonas turned to look at her. He’d waited long enough. His mouth dropped as their eyes locked, and Greta giggled.
‘Wow,’ he said, mesmerised. ‘You look incredible.’
‘So do you,’ she said, kissing her dad and taking Jonas’s hand. Her dress was equally fabulous from the back: a delicate gold train that looked like it had been spun from gossamer, covered in hundreds of tiny crystals, see-through and luminous as it floated along the aisle.
They looked happy, relieved and full of love for each other. Their moment had finally arrived to become Mr and Mrs, and it was beautiful to witness.
‘Wow is right,’ I breathed, and Ethel nodded, wiping away more tears.
‘I might burst with joy,’ she whispered.
The registrar started speaking in Norwegian, and I followed everyone else as they stood up and sat down. Listening in another language made it bearable, as it felt so different to mine. The beats of the ceremony were the same, so I could kind of follow where we were and what was happening, but I couldn’t understand it completely. I’d kind of forgotten Henrik spoke Norwegian; his English was so pitch perfect. I’d have to get myself on Duolingo.
Greta and Jonas looked so happy, and I could tell from the way they were standing that it was time to say their vows. Henrik had stepped up with the rings. Tall and handsome in a three-piece suit, his beard trimmed and on point. He looked like a Viking warrior.MyViking warrior.
