It was a quiet, almost solemn walk. Yes, she held her head high and smiled for the audience, but inside she felt almost numb. All the anxiety had risen up like a great wave and come crashing down. The day had only barely begun and she was exhausted. There was still the reception to survive. That was not even taking into consideration the wedding night. Julia's stomach did a little flip-flop as she accidentally reminded herself of that.
Tonight she would be expected to consummate her marriage to Ithel in his bed and she closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.
Her mother had given her very firm instructions on what to expect and what was expected. It might hurt, she said. Julia should lay there and allow him to take his pleasure anyway, she said. That was a wife's duty, she said.
Her duty.
Ithel opened the carriage door for her and for one horrible moment she wanted to turn and run away as fast as she could. That open door seemed like it was a looming abyss, a carrier sent to deliver her from one gilded cage to yet another. A ridiculous thing to try to run away from, as she had always known this was inevitable.
Julia closed her eyes and took a steadying breath before climbing into the carriage, smoothing and arranging her skirts carefully as she took her seat. She was Julia Vasile. No. Julia Conlaoch. She could, and would, face all that this day – and the night that followed – brought with the grace and dignity befitting her noble house. Her sister had managed it and she would to. She would not bring disgrace or dishonor on her family, and she would not embarrass her husband either.
Being as subtle as she could, she watched her husband's every move as he entered the carriage. Julia needed to learn as much about this man as she could as quickly as she could. The more she knew, the more easily she could keep him happy enough to not become dissatisfied with her. That would bring a mountain of shame upon her and her family.
He was already mystifying to her. Ithel showed such tender affection for his young brother so easily. Her family had been extremely reserved and not very warm or affectionate at all. He seemed a far cry from a strict disciplinarian. So, her husband was not a man like her father, at least not in that aspect.
The sound of his voice brought her out of her musings, and she looked up at him directly for a moment, in surprise, before lowering her gaze once more to her lap. She busied her hands with her skirts, fidgeting with them nervously for a moment to gather her thoughts. Julia had not really expected him to speak to her.
"Yes, of course. I would be pleased to meet them all formally." She smoothed her skirts again, although they truly did not need it, before giving her husband a faint smile. "They seem like energetic children to me, and that is quite natural. To be truthful I could have done with a much less wordy ceremony myself, I think I might have fainted if I had needed to stand there much longer. Ah! Not that I am displeased with the wedding, or you, of course..."
Julia felt heat flood her face as she hurriedly looked out the window. She should not have admitted to such a thing. That sounded far too dangerously close to a complaint.