He then tucked them back and finished ascending the stairs with his daughter at his side in order to stand at the top with his friends and await his bride.

“My, but the wind is chill up here,” Aelia murmured, breaking from Ha-Lah to come to her papa.

She wrapped her arms around his thigh.

He pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and then wrapped his mantle about her back and held it there.

Dora moved in at his other side and curved her arms about his middle.

He wrapped her in his mantle too.

And as such, suddenly content with the day, he looked down at his city, the bastion of his kingdom, and noted for the first time that the guests milling about the steps wore not black or gray or brown but had donned all the colors of the rainbow.

He blinked slowly at this site and then gazed beyond, where tufts of confetti drifted in the air and the cheers of Bayzians called as the second half of the procession began to be seen.

And he shook his head when he saw her, flanked on all sides by his guard, hers, Hera to her right, Serena to her left, and Nadirii warriors in battle dress with their pennants flying from the tops of their staffs all around.

But this was not why he shook his head.

He shook his head because she wore a voluminous, dove-gray velvet cloak with the hood pulled over the sunshine of her hair, the nap of the velvet so rich, it shone in the sun.

However, she rode Diana side saddle.

And the whole of what she wore covered her horse so all he could see of the beast was head, neck, chest and legs.

Last, at an opening of her cape he saw a froth of pink.

They made the bottom of the steps.

She dismounted.

And a trainee Nadirii warrior rushed forward.

This because Elena’s hand went to the frogs at her throat.

The hood fell back exposing her hair pulled away from her face to form a cluster of curls at the nape of her neck.

And with a flourish, the cape was gone, the trainee was scurrying away with it, and a gasp scored through the crowd as she stood resplendent at the foot of the grand sweep wearing a gown no Airenzian bride in centuries would ever consider.

But the ones of the future would.

The skirt was wide. So wide, a being could lie beneath it stretched out with arms over their head and be concealed. It was made of delicate pink organza and ended in a deep, thick layer of organza rosettes.

The boned bodice was of the same color, but made of silk, and it fit her slender waist and ribs like a smooth glove.