Chapter 1 – Bands
None who witnessed it were taken by aback when Janna’s mother stood side by side with Martel’s mother in the central plaza of the Village of Pristille to proclaim the binding of their two children. All who witnessed it were pleased when Janna and Martel confirmed their bands before the village elders twenty-one days later, Bess surely wasn’t.
She watched as her cousin Janna pushed the last flower into her hair and checked in the looking glass to see that it was well placed. It wasn’t, but Janna seemed pleased anyway so Bess held her tongue and resisted the urge to reach out and straighten it. Martel, the groom, wouldn’t note that it was askew any more than Janna did. Martel looked past much when it came to Bess’s cousin- love was like that, Bess guessed. At least she hoped that it was- she had never been in it to be sure of what it was like.
Martel had been able to hear their family’s history and accept that his future wife was wither just a little touched in the head or she was descended from a long line of secretly powerful people who had changed the course of their kingdom’s history many times through the generations. It was amazing that he loved her enough for the wedding to go forward- that he believed in her, in their love enough to stay with her- no matter which he believed of her (insanity or a strangely blessed family). Bess surely wouldn’t have believed the stories herself if she hadn’t known their great-grandmother Eva, who could know the thoughts of others by glancing in their directions for a moment. Sometimes Bess still faltered in her belief of the blessing bestowed on generations of her family.
Martel’s mother stepped into the house, strolled across its one large room and said, “The Chantress awaits, as does my son. Are you ready, Janna-sweet?” Martel and Janna had been sweeties since before they wore proper clothes and Martel’s mother, Brenna, had always called Janna “Janna-sweet”. Brenna was perhaps even more pleased with the match than Janna and Martel.
Janna smiled large and grand, white pearl teeth bright against the dusky red of her lips. “I would be ready had I neither dress nor flowers at all- so long as I was getting Martel for my husband.”
“Ah, my darling-girl, come and take my son from me, then.” Brenna put her hands out- one to Janna and the other to Bess. “Come now, Bess, you beauty. Let us get your cousin married and then we can see about finding a good man for you from among the guests who came from the other villages to eat their meals for free.”
Janna rose and took the offered hand. Bess followed suit and the three women went out to the central plaza of Pristille to happily seal Janna unto her beloved Martel.
