In Which Viridis Makes an Exception

August 10, 1174

Viridis did not want to be the bride who stole away to sulk on her wedding day--and she wouldn't be. She wasn't... was she?

No. She wasn't sulking. It wasn't like she was unhappy--far from it. But she was tired and it had been a long day and people had been pelting her with congratulations and good luck kisses from the minute she'd woken. She needed a moment alone, and at long last her guests seemed to started occupying each other; she figured no one would mind if she just took a little time for herself. Searle, at least, would understand. He always did.

So here she was, a few hours married, lounging on the couch in her parents' bedroom. The throbbing of her head had eased in the absence of the music, but it wasn't about to take defeat lying down and she needed to keep her strength up. She was anxious enough about tonight as it was; the last thing she needed was a headache to ruin it.

"Viridis?"

Her father's voice was low and quiet as his knuckles brushed the other side of the door. Yawning, she pushed herself upward. She supposed she could make an exception to her solitude. No one was more sensitive to her health than her father. "Yes?"

The door opened, his boots scuffing against the floor as he made his way toward the couch. He was making an effort to keep his tread light; it wasn't something that occurred to most to most people, but then again, he wasn't most people. He was her father.

"Feeling all right?"

She put on her brightest smile and stood. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him any further. "Much better now. I just needed to get away from the noise for a while."

"Mmm." He didn't seem convinced, but he didn't argue. He simply placed his hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. "You look beautiful. I wish your mother could see you now."

"Who's to say she can't?" But would she have approved? That was what Viridis wanted to know. Her father barely did and he'd always been the lenient one. A man with a history like Searle's might not have met her mother's standard of acceptability.

But then again, if her diaries were any indication, maybe she would have understood. She'd said it best herself in the entry dated after her elopement: Man cannot stifle love with rules.

It wasn't the work of any great poet, but it was the most perfect phrase Viridis had ever heard. If only she'd thought to have it engraved around the inside of her wedding band. It would have been a nice thought to leave with Searle when she died.

"I'll visit you when I can." Her father stepped back and looked her over. A slow smile crept onto his lips, but there was nothing he could do about the melancholy in his eye. It would be a while before he could make time to visit her. For all either them knew, the morning of her departure in a few weeks' time would be the last time he ever saw her. "You know that, right?"

She nodded. There was no sense in not indulging him while she could, even if they were both kidding themselves. "I know."

"You're sure you're all right with leaving?" She had to. He knew it.

But she understood. She'd miss him too. "I'll manage."

Her father closed his eyes and swallowed. He was not a person who often cried, but she thought his lashes looked a little moist. "That's my brave girl."

He shuffled forward and pulled her into a hug, tightly as he might have held her when she'd been little and he'd been afraid to drop her. It was quite some time before he let go.

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