The Bell Tolls for Me-103: End

The Bell Tolls for Me-103: End

Boredom. People tend to use the word negatively, in Isabella’s experience. The past decade of her life had been anything but boring, and she could testify that excitement was most definitely
not
always a positive aspect. In her eyes, boring was stability, prosperity, happiness. Excitement was unpredictability, chaos, uncertainty. She had experienced plenty of the downsides of excitement. Hopefully, with Valerio at her side, she could see some of its positives in the future to come.
Even still, Sylvain’s coronation… she had to admit it was dreadfully boring.
The herald called the seventy-first vassal forward, and the ceremony—already dull from the outset—proceeded with the same practiced cadence that had echoed through the coronation for what felt like centuries.
Duke Someone of Somewhere knelt, lowering his head and speaking words she knew by heart.
“I, Duke Someone of Somewhere…” he began—Isabella didn’t quite pick up what his name was. “…swear upon my honor, my lands, and the memory of my forefathers that I shall remain faithful to King Sylvain of Dovhain. I will uphold his laws, answer his summons, keep his peace within my borders, and offer counsel when called. I renounce all contrary loyalties and take this oath freely and without reservation.”
“I accept your oath, Duke Someone,” Sylvain said. “In return, I pledge to uphold the ancient rights of your great territory of Somewhere, to defend your lands from unlawful encroachment, and to judge your petitions with fairness and due order. So long as you serve faithfully, I shall be a just lord to you and your house. Rise, and rejoin your peers.”
Thereafter, Duke Someone rose to his feet and rejoined the crowd of Someones. The herald stepped forward.
“Count Somebody of Nowhere may now approach the throne,” the herald said, his words ringing out across the hall.
It could have been worse. Upon receiving the first few supplicants, Sylvain had caught an error in their recitation. He demanded that they perform it again from the beginning. There was no great pomp or ceremony to the coronation, just endless hours of listening to promises given and received. This was technically something that had to be done, but few kings preferred to observe the exact letter of the law. Some might receive the oaths all at once and provide their vow in the same turn. Some might forget it entirely. Some might demand it only to force obedience from unruly subjects. Then again, few kings were Sylvain. His exacting demands… she wondered if it might be a problem in the future. For now, all she could hope for was that the others shared her enthusiasm for perpetual boredom.
The king himself showed no signs of wear. He seemed inexhaustible. And for what it was worth, none of those that provided their oaths seemed anything but eager. These were young people, insecure in their positions, unused to ceremony and court life, and (hopefully) with grand ideals etched into their heads. Perhaps this dull, boring ceremony was precisely what they needed.
Regardless, all the while, Isabella could only think of another ceremony altogether.
***
Isabella’s picture of a wedding had been very long and very complicated.
When she’d been a young girl trapped in the royal palace, it had seemed like an escape. Naively, she thought that she would be paired with some gallant soul in the countryside who would take her from the royal palace and provide her freedom that she’d always lacked. She would serve him faithfully as his wife, and he would provide for her as her lord. A white venue, birds, laurels… it was a fantasy back then, a daydream which ended in a long and happy life in some quaint countryside estate with horses, dogs, and a small parcel of farmland.
Then, as the misfortunes of her adult life were stacked upon her, it became something of a nightmare. For a time, the wedding became the final link of the chain that Duke Albert would use to bind her forever. Isabella had nightmares of that day, wedded to a pig before a crowd of them. Before long, she was thrown in their trough, and they ate her bit by bit.
Then, when she had strength enough that it was no longer an inevitability, a wedding became a vague longing. There was some part of her that still craved that dream from her childhood. Some part of her still dreamed that one day, she could be taken from all of this. By that point, though, that naivete had been drained out of her. She thought she would never be wed. To be wed would be to lose what little power she had in Dovhain. To be wed meant to be subordinated.
As for the wedding she actually got…
Valerio took Isabella’s hands, his voice steady and carefully measured.
“I, Valerio of the Isles, pledge myself to you, Isabella of Dovhain. I vow to stand beside you in concord and in trial, to guard your honor as I guard my own life, to speak truth to you without fear, and to receive your truth without pride. I will share with you the burdens of my house and the duties of my rank. I will not turn from you in hardship, nor take joy that is not also yours. Where you walk, I will walk; where you remain, I will remain. Before our houses and before the gods who hear us, I bind my name and my future to yours from this day until my last.”
Isabella answered in turn, her voice clear and solemn. “I, Isabella of Dovhain, take you, Valerio of the Isles, as my husband and equal. I vow to keep faith with you in all fortunes, fair or ill, to lend you my counsel openly, and to follow your counsel in trust. I will guard your honor and bear with you the weight of duty. I shall not forsake you for fear, nor hide my heart from you in peace. In the sight of our kingdom and the witnesses gathered, I join my name and my destiny to yours, from this hour and for all the years granted to us.”
“Then henceforth, the two of you are bound eternally,” the presiding priest said.
Isabella and Valerio stared at each other. She could see it in her eyes that he was experiencing the same strange feeling that she was. His lips twitched slightly. His eyes looked amused. After everything that they had been through already, everything they’d shared, it all felt… funny. The both of them started laughing, and then gravitated inward naturally to embrace.
They laughed, kissed, and hugged for perhaps a stretch too long, because the priest started clearing his throat. Then, they turned to their guests.
After what they had achieved, their wedding could have consisted of every noble in the entire kingdom. None would dare miss it. Neither Isabella nor Valerio had even considered that notion. This day was for them alone, and they didn’t need to share it with people they had no ties to for it to feel important. Instead, a precious few had been invited.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, the incident.
“Traditional vows,” Randolph said. “You could have had me write any manner of saccharine poetry, and yet you chose to go with the traditional vows.”
She had to invite Randolph. He had eagerly accepted her invitation. Apparently, he’d been caught up in a love affair among the Ithilian, some manner of love triangle between Roderick’s sister and the daughter of one of the Lómethar. He’d already expressed interest in serving as her guard once more, and she welcomed his company.
Isabella smiled at Randolph, but Veronica, Valerio’s mother, stepped past and ignored him entirely.
“I never thought this day would come.” Veronica, typically quite austere, looked like a doting mother in that moment as she stared up at Valerio. “My little Val…”
Valerio hung his head, hiding a laugh and a smile. Veronica would likely return to the Ithilian. Though Valerio had invited her on their coming journeys, she wished to remain in one in place.
“Congratulations, Your Highness!” Alice said eagerly.
“Just Isabella, now,” she insisted, placing her hand on Alice’s shoulder. “We’re to be leaving this place soon enough.”
Alice smiled widely, and then began to cry. “If you ever have need of me… know that I would love to serve you again.”
Alice would remain here, serving as Queen Abigail’s personal maid—it was far too risky to ask her to voyage around the world. But if Alice kept those thoughts in heart, Isabella could think of no one better to invite to her household.
“This place will be duller without you,” Arthur said, standing beside Lady Allison. They had come as partners, to Isabella’s surprise and joy. “Though I can’t blame you for leaving.”
Arthur had agreed to look into methods to prolong his life. It seemed as though he’d found something worth living for. Perhaps that ‘something was Lady Allison. One could only hope. Regardless, Isabella would not let him die, even if she needed to destroy the power within herself to achieve that result.
“It isn’t as though we’ll be gone forever.” Isabella broke away from Valerio to seek out two in the back. “I’ll visit Abigail and His Majesty… I’ll visit all of you that don’t come along with us, I assure you.” She looked among the crowd.
Abigail smiled. “And perhaps we’ll do the same?” She looked at Sylvain questioningly.
“We’ll discuss days to set aside,” Sylvain said. “These need to be scheduled, considered. A king’s time is not his own. Still, I have no objection.” He looked to Randolph. “The traditional vows have been in use for centuries. Why did you invite a man who insults your choice of words? I thought they were adequate.”
“I believe he was merely jesting, Your Majesty,” Archduke Felix assured. “Having spoken to that man sometimes before, I assure you that he is merely a jester.”
“Isabella?”
Hearing her name, she turned her head. She saw Knight-Commander Gaspar standing there. In his arms… he had a mini Gaspar. She blinked for a few seconds, before her eyes widened and she smiled brightly.
“Is this Gaspar Jr.?” she said in delight.
“Yes,” Gaspar said proudly. He sounded a touch overwhelmed. “I had him brought here. I wanted him to see you. Without so many schemers around, I assumed… it would be no trouble, keeping him nearer.” He bounced Gaspar on his arms. “Junior, do you want to tell Isabella anything?”
Gaspar Jr. flitted his eyes between his father and Isabella. Eventually, he steeled himself and said, “Thank you and congratulations.”
The words were rigid and quickly uttered, but they made Isabella smile. She looked at Valerio, and they shared a knowing glance. Gaspar had retained his role as Knight-Commander. He expressed that he felt he now had a king and queen worth protecting.
After a while of conversing further, she realized that there was a face missing. It didn’t take her long to find them. She walked out to a balcony overlooking the sea. There, Bernadetta leaned against the railing.
“Bernie,” Isabella called out.
Bernadetta grimaced. “That name again…”
Isabella walked up to the railing, and leaned just beside her. “Why don’t you come inside and talk with the others?”
“I think it’d be best not to go where I’m not wanted,” Bernadetta said.
“I invited you here, did I not?”
Bernadetta shrugged. “And I’m not sure why you did. Surely the last thing you’d want to think of on this day is me.”
Isabella went silent for a few moments, watching her cousin before watching the sea.
“When I think back in the day that I died…” Isabella considered her words. “You acted entirely different from how you do now. You were spiteful, angry, vindictive, almost childish. Frankly, when I think of that day, it’s difficult to believe they’re the same person.” She focused her eyes on Bernadetta. “Because it wasn’t the same person. Eight years changed that person, just as eight years changed me into who I am today.”
Bernadetta looked over at her. “You’re much too generous.”
“In the end, I was right to be,” Isabella said. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. You’re leaving this place, same as me.”
Bernadetta looked over. “How could you tell?”
“Because I may be generous… but I am still quite cautious,” Isabella said. “If you didn’t leave, I’d be quite concerned. Indeed, that was less a guess and more a command… though it seems you took it another way.”
Bernadetta laughed. “Would it be too arrogant to say that you’ve learned from me?”
“Not at all,” Isabella said. “Where will you go?”
“Ambrose,” Bernadetta said with certainty. “I’ve always wanted to go there. A merchant republic… I’ve heard they had a Serene Dogaressa, once. I think I can live well there.”
Isabella smiled. She looked back. Valerio was watching the two of them. “Is that my little Val?” Isabella said teasingly. “Come here, if you would.”
Valerio frowned, scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t start with that.”
Isabella smiled at him, smitten. “Are we prepared for our trip to Ambrose?” she asked.
Bernadetta looked between them in surprise.
“Nearly. Won’t take long,” Valerio said. “Why?”
Isabella looked at Bernadetta, then smiled. “No reason.”
After winking, Isabella walked to join Valerio. Before reentering the hall, she stopped. She looked out to the sea.
“Something wrong?” Valerio asked.
“Not at all. It’s just… seeing the ocean like this… it reminds me of the night we met,” Isabella said. “The sea. The ocean.” She looked at him. “I love it. Shall we go swimming, later tonight, when all are asleep?”
Valerio raised a brow. “Why not?”
Isabella took him by his arm and went back to bask in the glow. Never before had she felt such peace.

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103: End