Lady Katherine Harrington of Johanne, Archery Mistress in the Longbournian Armed Forces

1 September, Year 2 of Sebastian VI, Emperor of the Longbournian Nations' reign

Amöneburg Palace, Amöneburg

The Longbournian Nations

New beginnings are shrouded in uncertainty, and they elicit fear in anyone who embarks upon them. If the prospect of starting on a new journey does not frighten one, even the slightest bit, then she would be better off staying right where she was.

Even when I had first made the decision to train to become an Archery Mistress, against Mama's wishes, and against the thoughts and ideals of the society around me, I had been filled with an unnerving fear – fear of the unknown, fear that I would let down the precious few who had believed in my capabilities, and fear that I would be ridiculed by my female counterparts for the rest of my life – that had almost changed my mind.

However, at that time, determination had overridden the fear. I had been two and twenty years old, desperately searching for a purpose in my life beyond mere marriage. I was sick and tired of spending one half of my life attending balls, and the other half waiting for each year to blend into the next. Considering I was already proficient with a bow and arrow, my brother Jacques and Jules had suggested that I join and train in the army - and I had done just that.

I have never been more grateful for that decision. Through the army, not only have I found a fulfilling career as an Archery Mistress and a golden opportunity to train in the Longbournian Nations, but I have also found my love and a dear friend in a gem of a man. Today, a year later, I am sitting in my chambers in my wedding gown, ready to pledge my heart and soul to that very man till death does us apart – and I cannot deny that, beneath the overwhelming joy, I am absolutely terrified.

"You look beautiful, Kat."

I look up, startled out of my thoughts. Through the reflection on the looking glass before me, I see Richard grinning at me on the threshold of my chambers. He is dressed impeccably for the occasion in a new black suit, complete with the Monriquan royal blue and red sash slung across his torso and a golden coronet on his head.

A faint smile tugs up my lips. "I know."

At that moment, I hear another familiar voice approaching our chambers. "Richard, I told you I wanted to - "

Before I can think too much, a shorter, auburn-headed man peeks into my chamber from behind Richard just then. In contrast, he is attired in a heavily-patched up black suit, and a dull, white cravat that is fraying at the hems is knotted at the base of his neck. Despite the sorry state of his clothes, however, he is simply bouncing with energy, and almost pushes Richard over the threshold in his excitement to see me.

"Careful, Derik!" Richard splutters, as he grabs the door before he can fall face first to the ground.

Derik's eyes widen in shock, and he quickly turns towards him to help him up. "Scheiße, I am so sorry!" he apologises profusely, his words thick with his accent, "but Kat promised I can be the first one to see her in her wedding gown, and I simply could not let you steal the honour - "

I smile wryly. Emotions come all too easily to Derik, and he does not shy away from expressing them. Indeed, I can still vividly remember the day he openly wept with happiness, two months ago, when I asked him if he would like to help me design and sew my wedding gown.

The Dowager Empress and the rest of the Emperor's family balked at the fact that I commissioned a Palace stableman for such an important task, instead of taking my pick of all the famed modistes in the empire. It is a pity that they do not know, as well as I have come to know in this past year, that Derik has an incredible eye for beauty, and is a thousand fold more skilled with a needle than all of his male and female peers put together.

Oh, well. They will understand when I walk down the aisle later today.

"That honour is all yours," I incline my head now, "and the pleasure, mine."

With that, I rise to my feet, and turn around to face them, smoothening the wrinkles on my gown as I do so. Derik breaks into a blinding beam, clasping his hands together in suppressed glee, as he gazes at me with nothing short of adoration. He then raises a hand to slowly twirl his index finger in the air.

I oblige for his sake, feeling the light, cool fabric caress my ankles as I gracefully twirl where I stand. My gown is of the standard shade of ivory to symbolise faith and piety, as one will be right to expect at a wedding - but with a twist. The ivory smoothly transitions into an ombré of orange, as vivid as the sun's rays during a sunset, which eventually reaches the lace borders of the gown as the dark blue of the night.

It is a masterpiece.

Derik and Richard both give me a round of applause, as they walk towards me. "Absolutely perfect. You are a vision," Richard grins, "except for one thing." He reaches out to gently stretch the corners of my lips upwards.

I blink, startled by the gesture.

"You are worried about something," he observes dryly, "I have never been married before, but I was under the impression that a bride is happy on her wedding day."

I chuckle. "That is the singular problem."

"My assumption?"

"Nay, that she has never been married before," Derik corrects him before I can, "the poor woman is nervous. It is completely normal." He gently sits me down on my chair once more.

"It is?" Richard is surprised.

"Of course it is," he assures the both of us, before narrowing his eyes at him, "considering that you broke your engagement to her, on a day just like this, scarcely a year ago. She may have forgiven us, but it is difficult to forget."

Richard flushes bright red.

"And also because this is the beginning of a completely new chapter in my life. New responsibilities, new expectations," I add, smiling faintly, "and even a new name."

"Oh, yes. You will be known from this day forth as Empress Consort Katharina Hohenstaufen of the Longbournian Nations," he muses, "by God, it will certainly take a while to get used to."

"Katharina," Derik corrects his pronunciation.

He stares at him. "Did I not say that?"

"You roll your 'r's like you are trying to cough up phlegm, like every other Monriquan man I have met," his partner throws his hands up in the air, "it is a beautiful name, Katharina. Say it with me. Katharina." He emphasises.

"Katharina."

"Nay - "

I cut in before Derik can argue. "Katherine or Katharina," I clear my throat, "the fact still remains that nothing will ever be the same after this day. It is an overwhelming thought."

Richard places a hand on my shoulder, and squeezes it. "There is another way to look at this," he suggests, "this is the beginning of a new set of adventures for you. A new empire to rule and lead into a golden age alongside a man who is equally passionate about its progress, another large family to love, and many more friends to cherish."

Derik kneels before me, and looks straight into my eyes. "It does not mean that you will lose any of your family, friends, or even your identity," he remarks quietly, "regardless of your marriage to His Imperial Majesty, you will always be Kat, and you will remain uniquely you. No one can take that away from you."

My eyes twinkle. "I would like to see anyone try."

"That is the spirit," Derik laughs.

"I understand this very marriage is a big risk you are taking," Richard tells me gently, "but then again, none of us would be here, in your chambers in Amöneburg Palace - happy and full of hope for the future - if we each did not take a few of those in the last few years." He looks at Derik, and breaks into a smile.

Derik returns it softly, reaching to take his hand.

"True," I murmur, as I watch them, "very true."

***

Later during the day, I stand on the doorstep of Amöneburg's oldest cathedral, with my gloved hand tucked in my father's elbow.

"You have nothing to worry about," Papa is reassuring me, "Sebastian would give you the world if he believed it would make you happy. Such a wonderful chap. You have chosen well for yourself. It is rare to find - "

As he chatters on and on, my smile widens. There are days I feel convinced that Papa loves Sebastian more than I love him, and this is one of them. Ever since I introduced him to my family last year, after I was released from my imprisonment, they have become utterly inseparable. Sebastian, especially, adores my father to no end.

It is a good thing. Ever since Prince Heinrich's murder, he has missed a father figure in his life, and I am glad that my Papa can fill that void for him.

"And I have lost your attention," Papa's dry voice breaks into my thoughts now, "my goodness, all will be well, darling. He is a good man, and I have no doubt he will do right by you."

"I know," I answer softly, "and I hope to do right by him, as well."

Papa beams at that, as the choir begins to sing an age-old hymn from within the cathedral. I feel that unnerving fear trickle into my heart once more, and I instinctively clutch my father's arm more tightly.

"'Tis almost time," he whispers, "three...two...one – "

At that very moment, the double doors swing open with a grand flourish. We step onto the threshold together, where we pause briefly.

A hush falls over the guests who are already seated within, as they crane their heads to look at me.

The eyes of the most present are trained on my heart-shaped face, my abundant dark brown curls that are braided into a side french braid. In the meanwhile, the trained gazes of the elder aristocrats study the few Crown jewels that shone on my person, and my rather unusual wedding gown.

On any other day, their stares would have prompted me to preen excessively, and attract even more attention. However, today, I am very much distracted by the young man at the altar, whose beautiful sea-green eyes seem to shine and glow with the light from all the candles in the cathedral.

He is dressed in a cream-coloured suit to match my gown. His broad shoulders are laden with medals he achieved in the army, and a royal navy blue sash hangs across his lean torso. An imperial crown sits perfectly on his neatly combed brown hair, as he sends a wide beam in my direction. His gaze holds mine with a happiness that banished every ounce of fear that initially gripped my heart, leaving behind a warmth that I can only describe as comforting.

Papa soon begins to lead me down the long, red-carpeted aisle at a gentle pace. The guests gaze at me with beams and open curiosity, as I happily wave at them all in greeting, heedless of decorum.

When we reach the end of the carpet, my maid of honour, Tess, steps forward to help us onto the top step of the altar, where Sebastian and the High Priest of the Longbournian Nations await us.

"Thank you, De Beauharnais," I give her a gentle smile.

In a rare instance, her ocean blue eyes shine bright with happiness. "Nay, thank you, Harrington...for letting me be a part of this blessed ceremony," she touches my shoulder, "it has been such a pleasure watching you grow into the woman you are today, and I wish you nothing but happiness and fortune for the future ahead of you."

I beam, covering her hand with my own for a brief moment, before turning towards the altar. Under the watchful eye of the High Priest, Papa removes my hand from the crook of his arm, takes Sebastian's outstretched hand and squeezes them together in his own firmly.

"My dear children," Papa gazes between us, "I know you are well able to take care of yourselves. Nevertheless, I hereby entrust the responsibility of my daughter to you, Sebastian, and that of Sebastian's to you, Kat. Please love each other, and care for each other's well-being and happiness as you would your own, forever and always." His voice catches with emotion in the end.

Sebastian nodded solemnly. "You have my word, Papa."

"Mine, as well," I assure him.

Papa's eyes gleam bright with tears, as he touches the side of Sebastian's head in blessing, and pinches my cheek fondly. One of Sebastian's groomsmen and friends, Prince Franz of Nuremburg, steps forward to help him to his seat in the front row with the rest of my family, beside my future-in-laws. Prince Franz then takes his place next to other groomsmen, and opposite my bridesmaids, Natalya, Lisa and Jules.

In the meanwhile, Sebastian gently turns us towards the High Priest, and together, we knelt down on both knees on the silver pillows set before him.

The High Priest clears his throat. "Dearly beloved," he cries, "we have gathered here today to witness..."

As he preaches about the importance and value of the sacred institute of marriage, I look down at our hands, my gloved one held tightly in his, and smile.

"What are you thinking about?" Sebastian whispers.

I squeeze his hand. "I was thinking of how nervous I had been these few weeks," I admit, "even up to the moment that I entered this cathedral."

His sea-green eyes brim with compassion, as they hold mine. "It must have been a stressful time. You have had to make so many difficult decisions regarding your life on my account," his voice is quiet, "any second thoughts?"

"None at all," I smile faintly, "believe me when I say that among those difficult decisions I have had to make, marrying you is the one I am most certain about. Do you know why?"

"Why?" he asks softly.

"Because I trust you," I murmur, "I trust that you and I will stand by each other through everything that life has to throw at us, through every happiness and grief. I trust that we will grow old together, constantly loving and learning from each other, on how to be the very best versions of ourselves - for us, for our family, and our country."

He listens to me in silence.

"I have no clear idea on what to expect of the future, and that still makes me nervous," I chuckle weakly, "but I am, and always will be, certain about you, about us - and that is enough for me."

He laces his fingers through mine, as he smiles, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you."

"I love you more," I say softly, before breaking into an amused grin, "and you know, just like you, everyone around me has been surprisingly understanding of my jitters."

"Indeed?" he raises an eyebrow, "I distinctly remember Natalya telling me that you have been driving her to near madness, and that she is going to steer clear of you until this wedding ends."

"Minor details," I wave it off, "everyone else has been giving me an endless stream of advice about married life, about the responsibilities and duties expected of me as an Empress Consort, your court's customs and etiquette, and so on. Oh, and of course, they have not failed to remind me, constantly, about how fortunate I am to be marrying you." My voice is dry.

"Believe me, I am the fortunate one," he cracks a grin.

"That is what I told them," I chuckle, "but I doubt they were convinced -"

The High Priest interrupts me in that moment. "Do thee, Sebastian Karl Hohenstaufen, take this woman, Katherine Eleanor Harrington, to be thy lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, in times of happiness and of sorrow, and keep thy only unto her as long as ye both shall live?"

Sebastian looks into my eyes. "I happily do."

I beam, as the High Priest turns to me. "Do thee, Katherine Eleanor Harrington, take this man, Sebastian Karl Hohenstaufen, to be thy lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, in times of happiness and of sorrow, and keep thy only unto him as long as ye both shall live?"

I nod, meaning each word that leaves my lips. "I do."

The High Priest then steps back, gesturing at Prince Franz. Before he can come forward, however, Sebastian holds up a hand to stop him.

"A moment, please, Franz," he clears my throat, "there is something else I would like to promise Katherine."

With that, he turns on his knees on the cushion to face me. I watch him in surprise, as he reaches out to take both of my hands in his, and gazes at me with utter seriousness.

"Storms and summers will come and go," he murmurs in French, "and some days of darkness will last - "

My breath catches in my throat in astonishment. Even his pronunciation is accurate.

" - longer than others," I join him, "through it all, I do promise, to stand by you as your strength and courage. I will hold you and I will love you, till the day my own heart sees fit, to stop beating altogether. It has been you, and it will only ever be you."

"Sebastian," I whisper, "you learnt my country's wedding vows."

"And a little bit of French," he admits, "Papa has been teaching me these few months. I know you miss your home, and I thought if I learn to speak your native tongue, we could converse in it from time to time...especially on the days that Johanne feels too far away from Amöneburg."

My throat clogs up with emotion. "It is very thoughtful of you."

"It is the least I can do. You have chosen to live with me here, away from your home and your family," he says gently, "the magnitude of that sacrifice is not lost on me." He brings our intertwined hands up to his lips.

In the meanwhile, Prince Franz breaks into a smile, and holds out a quaint emerald ring towards Sebastian, which he then proceeds to slip it onto my ring finger. "With this ring, I wed thee."

Instinctively, I turn to Tess, who hands me a thicker gold ring. With shaking fingers, I place it on Sebastian's ring finger.

"With this ring, I wed thee."

The High Priest clears his throat once more, as he raises us both to our feet. "I now pronounce you man and wife," he announces, "you may kiss the bride." He steps back further from us.

Sebastian grins in amusement at the High Priest's discomfort, before he reaches out to gently cradle my face in his hands and leans down to kiss me softly, slowly, sweetly, till all else around me melts away into oblivion.

"Katherine?"

"Hmm?"

"As of this moment, you are trapped with me for life," he whispers, "I wish you all the best."

I chuckle weakly. "Thank you. I am in dire need of those wishes."

He simply laughs at that, as he wraps his arms around me.

The Cathedral bursts into loud applause, as the guests stand up to cheer and shout out their well wishes. The High Priest cracks a faint smile as well, leading us by the hand towards the edge of the altar.

"May I now present to you, Their Imperial Majesties Emperor Sebastian VI and Empress Consort Katharina Hohenstaufen of the Longbournian Nations!"

***

Later in the evening, I pick open the lock on the doors of the cathedral, and slip in.

I proceed to light all the candles in the cathedral, and do a thorough check to ensure that it is well and truly empty. Once I am satisfied, I creep again towards the door, and beckon the rest hiding in the bushes outside to come in.

Jules and Tess, accompanied by a frightened-looking Dela are the first to hurry past me. Natalya, Sebastian and Nick enter last, holding our two gagged and blindfolded hostages tightly, and tug them along the aisle. Once everyone has entered, I gently close the doors behind me, and lock them.

Now void of the crowds and noise from my wedding earlier, the cathedral is comfortably enveloped in a warm and peaceful atmosphere. Every now and then, a cool, soft breeze whistle through the cracks between the tainted glass windows, causing the flames of the candles to sway and flicker.

However, they continue to remain alight.

In the meanwhile, Natalya, Sebastian and Nick push our hostages up the the altar, and set them down none too gently on the ground. They are struggling with all their might, forcing the trio to almost sit on them to subdue them.

"Stay still!" Sebastian commands, "we are not going to hurt you!"

That only makes them struggle even harder.

"How much time do we have on our hands?" Natalya asks me tersely.

"About three hours before the night prayers take place here," I check my timepiece.

"Two hours before I need to return to the Pleasure House," Dela pipes up quietly.

"Around an hour or so before Yara wakes from her nap, and will need to be fed," Jules frets, "I cannot leave her alone with Ned for too long. She kicks up a fuss when she is hungry, and he will not be able to handle her at her worst." She and Nick exchange exasperated glances.

"And thirty minutes, at the most, before the guests realise that the bride and groom are missing from their own wedding reception," Tess remarks wryly, "we do not have much time, Harrington. Or Hoh - "

"Harrington is fine," I assure her distractedly, before glancing down at our hostages, "now help me remove their blindfolds and their ropes, but keep them gagged for now. At least until we can explain to them what is happening."

Tess obliges, and Natalya steps forward to help her with the task.

The two young men, Richard and Derik, blink up at us, trying to become accustomed to the light after a long time. I can almost see their minds hard at work, as their eyes take in the magnificent golden cross on the high altar, the larger-than-life portrait of our good and merciful Lord, the stained glass windows, the worn and tattered Bible on the grand stand.

They then turn to stare at the rest of us again, helpless, confused and even downright afraid.

I cannot blame them. While Richard still faces a healthy amount of disgust from his own parents and is being forced to spend hours in a church like this one to be rid of his supposed madness, Derik had been almost stoned to death in his village, led by their local church, because of his attraction to men.

"Richard, Derik, listen to me," I address them seriously, "as you may have realised by now, the seven of us - eight if you include Ned, who is taking care of Yara and Tommy while we are here - have gone through a lot of trouble to kidnap you from your respective abodes, and bring you here to the cathedral that Sebastian and I got married in earlier today."

Richard narrows his eyes at me. A deep growl sounds from Derik's throat, directed at his sister.

Natalya kneels down in front of them. "I know that the both of you are a little...bitter towards the church for all the grievances it has caused you in these two years," her voice is soft, "but you cannot fight hate with hate. Let go of your grudges. The world already has more than enough of it, without you adding to it."

The both of them listen to us intently.

"You can only fight hate with love," Jules remarks quietly, "God has always loved us unconditionally, we have always loved you, and the both of you are truly and deeply in love with each other. What the church, society or our families think about this is immaterial to us."

"'Tis why we have decided to help join the both of you in holy matrimony today," Tess offers them a faint smile, "to celebrate that love."

Richard's and Derik's eyes almost pop out of their sockets at that, and they attempt to sound out words in reply. I bid Sebastian to remove their gags, and they clear their throats and struggle to find their voices.

"Marriage," Derik repeats to her, his voice hoarse, "in truth?"

Tess' countenance softens at the barely veiled hope in his blue eyes. "In truth," she assures him, "in all ways a legal marriage - albeit a secret one without a priest - in a true church, before a true Lady Justice, surrounded by your truest well-wishers, who want nothing more than your happiness. What do you think?"

Richard blinks at her. "I do not know..." he trails off, still deeply in shock, as he looks at Derik, "this is all so sudden - "

His partner takes his hand in both of his own. "There has never been any question about it for me. You know how much I love you," he is utterly solemn, "and there is nothing more I want than to spend the rest of my life with you."

Richard gazes at their hands, swallowing. "But we will never be able to live together in peace, even if we do get married."

"Well, 'tis not much of a life that you are living together now," Dela points out, "you spend half your life at sea, travelling back and forth between Monrique and Amöneburg - and my brother is no less, constantly living in fear of being caught by our village church members. For how much longer do you intend to hide away in my chambers at the pleasure house?"

"We have nowhere else to go," he answers her bleakly, "Dela, you know that."

For an answer, Nick sits cross-legged next to his twin, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "After you marry Derik, you can bring him and Dela home with you," he explains quietly, "we will put out the story that you have married Dela, and that Derik has accompanied her to serve in your household - with my approval."

"On my part, I will have Dela released from the pleasure house for good," Sebastian chimes in, "and ensure that no one comes looking for her, or asking unnecessary questions."

Nick inclines his head at him in thanks. "I will grant you and Derik an earldom in the outskirts of Monrique, where you can live together in peace," he continues, "with the exception of state events and the occasional public appearances, no one will disturb you. I will make sure of it."

"You would do that for me?" Richard whispers.

Nick gives him a faint smile. "Consider it done."

In the meanwhile, Derik turns to his sister in astonishment. "And you are agreeable to this?"

"Of course. I will be free from the damned pleasure house at long last, and I will be a Princess Consort in name," she teases him, before she grows serious, "but more importantly, Brother-mine, no one will ever hurt you or Richard again. This, I promise."

"As do we," Sebastian and I murmur.

"And so do we," Jules promises, as she takes Nick's hand in hers.

Derik's eyes gleam with tears. "Thank you, all of you," his voice is clogged with emotion, as he looks around at us, "I am forever in your debt."

He then turns to Richard and holds his gaze, clear and certain. "Do you want to marry me?" his voice is gentle, "I have no money, no property, no security. I have nothing to offer you but my heart, my soul and my life - and they are yours. They have always been yours, and they always will be."

Richard brings their intertwined hands up to his lips, and nods. "Yes," he answers softly, "a thousand times, yes."