Free Ruins of Camelot by G. Norman Lippert Page B

Rhyss asked seriously.
    Gabriella nodded.  "I am.  I just can't quite take it all in.  Perhaps we should have gotten married in the church after all.  This feels so…," she shrugged, "so royal ."
    Constance grinned at her as if she were very silly.  "You're the Princess," she whispered harshly.  "Royalty is something you'd better get used to."
    "It's time, girls," Sigrid ordered, joining them near the doors of the ballroom.  "Constance, you first now.  Stop across from Jakar.  He will attend you afterwards."
    Constance rolled her eyes.  "Honestly, Sigrid, I've been preparing for this day longer than Bree, methinks.  I know what to do."  She turned back briefly and touched Gabriella's shoulder.  "Bree," she said solemnly, "this is it.  Your big day."  She shook her head and sighed.  "Don't bollix it all up by tripping over your skirts on the way to the altar."
    "Thank you, Constance," Gabriella nodded ruefully, and then embraced her friend.
    "Go!" Sigrid rasped, virtually pushing Constance through the ballroom doors.
    Gabriella watched as Constance entered the ballroom and started towards the altar.  The throng of observers were parted to form a long aisle flanked by brass braziers and lined with a long, burgundy rug.  Constance walked with great deliberation, her chin held high, the scroll of the scriptures held reverently before her.  When she reached the altar, she bowed her head and handed the scroll to Bishop Tremaine, then took her place to the right.  When she turned back, her face was flush with pleasure.
    Rhyss leant close to Gabriella's ear.  "I love you, Bree," she said in a small voice.  "Remember this day forever.  Long life to both of you."  She gripped Gabriella's arm for a moment, nodded curtly, and then turned towards the ballroom doors.  Gabriella watched nervously as her best friend began to make her way down the aisle, bearing the golden rings in a satin pouch.
    Sigrid watched as well, and then a terrible expression came over her face.  She turned to Gabriella and looked her quickly up and down.
    "Where's your bouquet?" she demanded in a harsh whisper.
    "My—" Gabriella began, and then stopped.  They both knew where it was.  It was lying on the bureau in her bedroom, next to the basin where she had left it.
    "You didn't," Sigrid breathed.
    "You should've reminded me!" Gabriella rasped, her eyes widening.
    Sigrid smacked her own forehead in annoyance.  "I'm not your nursemaid any more, Princess."
    "I'll run back for it," Gabriella whispered, hiking up her skirts and turning back to the stairs, but Sigrid caught her by the elbow.
    "You will do no such thing," she ordered.  "Stay here!"
    With that, the older woman rushed back towards the stairs and took them two at a time.  Gabriella watched this, bemused at Sigrid's surprising speed.  A moment later, she turned back to the ballroom doors.  Rhyss was nearly halfway to the altar, walking slowly, her long, red hair hanging in waves down her back.  Most of the crowd watched her with bright interest, but a few eyes were turned back towards the doorway, awaiting Gabriella's entrance.
    It's just a bouquet, she thought to herself.  Just a bunch of silly flowers.  Who needs them?   She imagined walking down the aisle empty-handed, however, and realised that it would feel extremely awkward.  Frowning, she glanced back towards the stairs.  Sigrid was nowhere in sight.  Gabriella cast her eyes helplessly about the room, and suddenly, an idea struck her.  Gathering up her skirts, she turned and dashed back across the room, heading for the main entry.  Turning a corner, she entered the vestibule and saw what she was looking for.  A credenza sat against the wall, dominated by a large vase of pink and yellow tulips.  Gabriella lunged for the vase, jerked the bundle of flowers out of it, and violently shook the water from their stems.
    She was about to return to the ballroom doors, pleased with her ingenuity, when a low sound