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at his ankles and the weight of it dragged at his shoulders, but the afterimage of Sybelle burned behind his eyes and Walter knew he would, like Atlas, lift the world on his shoulders if that was what he must do to have Sybelle. And in that moment, the gown was only light and warm, the smooth fabric a sensuous pleasure where it touched his skin, and he himself wondered what a man both honest and wise would say to him at this time. But then he was facing the priest, and Lord Geoffrey placed Sybelle's hand in his. |
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Sybelle looked up into the plain face of the man about to become her husband and felt as if nothing could ever go wrong for her again. There might be no great beauty in Walter's features, but Sybelle felt that everything she needed or desired was there: knowledge and strength and steadiness of purpose. Walter had felt the weight of responsibility fall upon him suddenly, but Sybelle had carried that weight with her all the years of her life. She had been molded and fitted to carry the burden, but it was a heavy burden nonethelessand now she felt half the weight lifted from her. Her hand lay trustfully in his, and with joy and with relief she repeated the words that would bind them together. |
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For her, the wedding was perfect. Sybelle had attended state weddings and had shuddered inwardly at the thought of being in the bride's place during the days of public display. If it had been required of her, she would have done her duty with a smiling and serene faceas she performed so many duties that caused her inner qualmsbut the quiet ceremony, witnessed only by those she most loved and a few vassals whom she knew and trusted, gave her great happiness and comfort. |
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The family and vassals cried Fiat! and the servantsall those who could fit having crept into the chapelmade a joyous noise when she and Walter gave each other the kiss of peace after the vows had been exchanged. Then they went out to supper, a quiet, cheerful meal, albeit considerably grander than the usual few dishes served. Rhiannon sang the story of Geraint and Enid, a most tender tale of love, although it held a strong warning against the foolishness of male pride and female reticence. Then, at last, Sybelle and Walter were alone in the south tower. |
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Sybelle had been displayed naked to her husband, but it had been no great trial when all those present were so well |
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