The Lord strode to the alter wearing a finely tailored jacket and pants instead of the heavy formless clothing he had worn earlier. The hood was gone, exposing a handsome man with waves of raven black hair. He gave Myla an easy smile as he took his place at her side.
“You look beautiful. A rare beauty hidden under the grime of drudgery.” He said as he took Myla’s hand in his.
His hand was much larger than Myla’s own, but his fingers had a long daintiness that Myla couldn’t match. There was no warmth to his hand. His skin soft and smooth, but lifeless.
“You have adjusted quickly. Not many can accept the presence of the otherworldly so easily.” Lord Du Bois said.
Myla raised her head to look in her betrothed’s eyes, “I’ve come to accept many things today, your Lordship.”
Lord Du Bois waved his free hand in dismal, “You need not call me by my title. My name is Maximilien. Please call me that.”
Myla rolled the name around on her tongue.
Maximilien brushed a stand of hair from Myla’s cheek, “Do not be so glum. This is not a funeral, but a wedding. Let’s place our hands on the sacred book and pledge ourselves to one another.”
He squeezed Myla’s left hand and placed his right hand on the glittering book. Myla lifted her right hand. Her hand hovered just over the book and Maximilien’s hand. Maximilien gave her other hand a reassuring squeeze. Myla’s right hand fell onto the book and Maximilien’s hand with more force than she intended.
“Wonderful, let us begin the vows. I’ll start and you just repeat after me.” Maximilien said.
Myla found her mind wandering as repeated the vows. All she could focus on was the molten red globe of the sun as it sunk below the horizon. Its vermilion rays licked the golden lines of paint on her body and danced off Maximilien’s stone brown eyes. The last word of her vow faded from her lips as the sun died to give way to the night.
The night sky was the first to welcome her as Myla Du Bois. Maximilien was the second.