Back from the Wedding
Jul. 11th, 2010 06:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_luciusHydra, I hope your birthday celebrations were pleasant, as was your tète-a-tète with the Lord Protector. I'm sorry I could not join you, but your Aunt tells me you liked your presents very much.
Well. She went through with it after all. Right up until the exchange of vows I was half-sure she might cry it off as a whim or a joke, but no. She is Mme Amanda Froissart now. Étienne promises to make her happy; for his sake, I hope he succeeds.
Aside from departing nearly twenty minutes late, owing to the myriad 'last-minute' issues demanding attention (most of which could have easily waited or should have been addressed long before Friday), was further delayed at the border by a lackey who clearly had no idea to whom he was speaking. Quickly reached Dideron, who straightened the matter - and assured me the patrolwizard would be re-assigned for his impudence. Missed the rehearsal; arrived just as the dinner was about to commence. (Amanda was most upset and had the notion that I had 'arranged' to be detained so as to avoid the walk-through. Assured her of my mutual annoyance at my tardiness - but did allow that there was a bright side to the timing. Summarised my rôle for her to demonstrate that no rehearsal was truly necessary: 'Everyone else goes first, yes? The music starts, yes? Then we walk. Fairly simple.')
Mother handled the rehearsal supper masterfully. Étienne has rather a large family (not atypical for French wizards of his class) and it was a jolly if one-sided affair. His brothers, I think, would fit well with some of our friends - Rabastan, Mordant and Cadmus in particular come to mind. After supper the witchfolk whisked Amanda out for ... some ritual we mere men are not allowed to witness (and I suspect I had rather not contemplate). After producing an excellent bottle of whiskey, Étienne's brother Georges led a smaller group out into Paris to provide the groom his last carouse. Nothing that might put the wedding in jeopardy - though I am sworn to secrecy on the details. Loyalty to my sister aside, a bachelor party is a bachelor party. Also I confess, I am not certain where they continued on after I left them to it somewhere around the 16th arrondissement.
Managed to rise and dress in plenty of time for a private breakfast with Amanda and Mother (though Amanda could barely eat). Then they were off to the salon to arrange their hair and such and I spent a blissfully quiet hour with the papers, paid a few diplomatic fire calls and worked on the wedding toast a little. Then it was time to go.
I know this will disappoint, but I cannot even begin to describe my sister's appearance in her robes. Exquisite does not do justice. Had my wife been there I'm sure she could find the words. Suffice to say I was dumbstruck, and again felt that no wizard, even one as suitable as Froissart, deserved her or could hope to do so.
So - they are wed. The reception was held at the Hôtel du Barbarac, which, Amanda was fond of telling me, is where the French Ministers nearly all have chosen to hold their inaugural balls. Truly it was unparalleled in Paris, though I wager our own halls are just as grand and our own elves no less attentive. Certainly the orchestra were as excellent as the food - and that's saying something.
But my time grew short, so as soon as the bride and groom departed for their honeymoon (Moscow, I understand, and a tour along the Silk Road), I too made my farewells and returned via Calais and Dover. Needless to say I fair fell into bed and have only just begun to consider refocusing my attention on whether anything monumental occurred in my brief absence.
Surely not.
Well. She went through with it after all. Right up until the exchange of vows I was half-sure she might cry it off as a whim or a joke, but no. She is Mme Amanda Froissart now. Étienne promises to make her happy; for his sake, I hope he succeeds.
Aside from departing nearly twenty minutes late, owing to the myriad 'last-minute' issues demanding attention (most of which could have easily waited or should have been addressed long before Friday), was further delayed at the border by a lackey who clearly had no idea to whom he was speaking. Quickly reached Dideron, who straightened the matter - and assured me the patrolwizard would be re-assigned for his impudence. Missed the rehearsal; arrived just as the dinner was about to commence. (Amanda was most upset and had the notion that I had 'arranged' to be detained so as to avoid the walk-through. Assured her of my mutual annoyance at my tardiness - but did allow that there was a bright side to the timing. Summarised my rôle for her to demonstrate that no rehearsal was truly necessary: 'Everyone else goes first, yes? The music starts, yes? Then we walk. Fairly simple.')
Mother handled the rehearsal supper masterfully. Étienne has rather a large family (not atypical for French wizards of his class) and it was a jolly if one-sided affair. His brothers, I think, would fit well with some of our friends - Rabastan, Mordant and Cadmus in particular come to mind. After supper the witchfolk whisked Amanda out for ... some ritual we mere men are not allowed to witness (and I suspect I had rather not contemplate). After producing an excellent bottle of whiskey, Étienne's brother Georges led a smaller group out into Paris to provide the groom his last carouse. Nothing that might put the wedding in jeopardy - though I am sworn to secrecy on the details. Loyalty to my sister aside, a bachelor party is a bachelor party. Also I confess, I am not certain where they continued on after I left them to it somewhere around the 16th arrondissement.
Managed to rise and dress in plenty of time for a private breakfast with Amanda and Mother (though Amanda could barely eat). Then they were off to the salon to arrange their hair and such and I spent a blissfully quiet hour with the papers, paid a few diplomatic fire calls and worked on the wedding toast a little. Then it was time to go.
I know this will disappoint, but I cannot even begin to describe my sister's appearance in her robes. Exquisite does not do justice. Had my wife been there I'm sure she could find the words. Suffice to say I was dumbstruck, and again felt that no wizard, even one as suitable as Froissart, deserved her or could hope to do so.
So - they are wed. The reception was held at the Hôtel du Barbarac, which, Amanda was fond of telling me, is where the French Ministers nearly all have chosen to hold their inaugural balls. Truly it was unparalleled in Paris, though I wager our own halls are just as grand and our own elves no less attentive. Certainly the orchestra were as excellent as the food - and that's saying something.
But my time grew short, so as soon as the bride and groom departed for their honeymoon (Moscow, I understand, and a tour along the Silk Road), I too made my farewells and returned via Calais and Dover. Needless to say I fair fell into bed and have only just begun to consider refocusing my attention on whether anything monumental occurred in my brief absence.
Surely not.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 04:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 05:37 pm (UTC)As for Amanda, I often wish you could meet her as well. Who knows whether it may be possible someday, depending on where our relationships with France take us over the coming years. But you do remind of her frequently; I think you would go on well.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 05:41 pm (UTC)At any rate, as I told you before you left, you'll get used to the idea, eventually, that your sister is fully capable of making her own choices and has every right to someone who will share her life. Even if you don't like to admit it, she is and has been grown for some time.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 08:01 pm (UTC)And I think we'd get on well too.