I Can Hear The Wedding Bells [OPEN]

[Aquila]

You are cordially invited to the joining of Gaetan August Primm and Cressida Laurel Page. Please join them on the first day of Spring at Weatherford Hall as these two take part in holy matrimony. We welcome you to come celebrate this joyous occasion as we welcome spring to Tresteria! 

The Weatherford Chapel was decked out to the nines thanks to Lady Primm and Lady Page. Flowers covered the isle, there was silk draping in soft hues and pastels, warm candlelight filled the chapel from the main altar and a arch had been had crafted from dark wood and decorated with flowers. Anything that could be done to make the chapel look less gloomy had been arranged. The chapel looked quite beautiful, and very picturesque as guests were welcomed and filtered in to their seats. It was the first day of spring in Tresteria. What better way to spend it then with a wedding? Once everyone was seated the organ would begin to play as the wedding party began to come down the aisle one by one. The party was not large, Marquise Wilfred Primm and his wife, Lady Miryam Primm came down, dressed in their finest followed by Lord Raoul and Lady Claudia Primm. The Primm family quickly seated themselves in the first pew off to the left of the Altar while the Pages followed soon after. The Man of The Hour soon made his appearance, however, as soon as he stepped through the doorway he clicked his heels together for what seemed like ages. People closest to him would be able to see his lips move quietly as it appeared he was counting before he marched his way down the aisle.  

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OOC: Maggie and I will do the ceremony quickly, and then jump into the reception so we can really get this party started! 
- No need to wait on others for a posting order either, mingle, dance, be merry! post at your leisure

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Gaetan’s skin was crawling. It felt like a million little insects were crawling over his skin. He could feeling their prickly hairy little legs as they scuttled around on his skin, and he resisted the urge to smack and wipe at his arms in hopes of getting the sensation to go away. He could also feel the eyes. All the eyes, blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, hazel eyes, they were all there. Watching. Waiting. He clenched his hands at his sides as he walked down the aisle. His eyes darted around everywhere. Crawling, itching... There was a tightness in his chest and he wanted to bolt then. Just turn down the asile and book it out of there. Mother would never forgive him.

His pace quickened to a pace that almost would be considered a high powered fast walk on the brink of a sprint. He caught the eyes of Claudia ahead of him. Watching him. They were all sitting, but she was turned in her seat, motioning for him slow down. He could read her lips. “Slowly, yes that’s it. Good!” His body did as she instructed, but his skin kept crawling. “Just look at me, you're doing excellent Gaetan, keep coming.” His sister in that moment became his anchor as he somehow managed to get to the altar. He gave her a small smile and she smiled back. Claudia looked well today. He liked that. Her accident had left her with a dimmer light and he was very happy to see how well she looked. He could only imagine how she felt after being attacked a few short weeks ago. His side suddenly burned at the memory, and he quickly shook his head to keep the memory away.

He passed her then as he took several steps up to the altar. Adjusting his jacket, he let a slow breath out before deciding to look at the back of chapel rather than turn around and look down the aisle for his coming bride. It was easier this way, despite what mother thought. He didn’t have to see them looking at him. He didn’t have to see everyone’s imperfections, he didn’t have to try and fix things. They were watching. They were always watching. His hands tightened around the edges of his jacket to the point his knuckles were white and his breathing quickened. The eyes! They were on him again. The hair at the back of his neck stood up on end and he felt a shiver run down his spine. It was getting warm. He stuck a finger into the neck of his collar and tried to loosen it. “Stop fidgeting.” He could barley hear his mothers voice but knew she was talking to him.

The Organ changed to the wedding march, and his breath nearly stopped. She was coming. Cressida Page, his finance. He’d never seen her a day before in his life. Knew nothing about her, save for some rumors, but he supposed what he’d heard about her was okay. After all he had his own. Half the people in the room thought he was a nutcase already. From what he heard of her she was one too. He was curious if what they said were true though. He rolled his shoulders and head, taking a deep breath. “Gaetan, turn around.” He Heard Claudia gently call to him. Her voice covered slightly from the music. He rose up on the balls of his feet, bouncing slightly, before he slowly turned around. He caught his mother shooting daggers At him, and his father looking down the aisle as the whole room stood at attention. Claudia smiled before she winked at him, and Gaetan slowly allowed his eyes to drift to the figure in white slowly drifting towards him. Her face was hidden by the heavy veil she wore but he didn’t care. He already thought her beautiful, and she had his full attention.

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Cressida Page stood outside the chapel, looking up at its familiar spire through the thick lace of her bridal veil. Her whole body prickled slightly, like a limb that had fallen asleep, and her mind drifted distantly despite her attempts to focus on the matter at hand. She was getting married but all she could think about was her childhood in this place. It was like another life, faded and distant.

As the clanging bells faded, and the organ began, Cressida turned her gaze slowly back to the doors. Like walking in a dream, time seemed to slow as they swung open and all eyes lifted to her. Those in attendance would see now a thin, ethereal looking woman, as wispy as a floating cloud beneath her veil. Her aunt and cousins had done all they could to force rich foods on her for at least a month prior to the wedding, which had restored her at least enough to hide her ribs. The line between ethereal woman of the fae and starving madwoman was a thin one; they had pushed her past it by tempting her with gingerbread.

The chapel, now that she could see it, blinded her to anything else. Nothing had changed save for the flowers, but they couldn't hide it from her. Her past hit her like a fist to the stomach and she swayed slightly. Her uncle's grip on her arm tightened to support her. She wondered if her father would have done the same.

Soon they were moving down the aisle, despite the fact that she could hardly sense her own limbs. Who would really want to witness this? The marriage of a madman and a ghost? Who had filled the pews?

She ought to be nervous, she thought idly, or perhaps excited? Should she have thrown a fit when they told her, and objected somehow? Real-Cressida would have. This ghost self could only follow along like a puppet. Still, it wasn't as if this would change anything for her. She would go on as she had done, aimlessly, or she would finally gain the motivation necessary to end her life. It would probably be a relief to her family if she did so, as well as this poor fool they were sending to live in a haunted house, married to a ghost.

As she approached the altar, she could vaguely make out this future husband, this Gaeton Primm. His hair was lighter than hers, and she noted that he was about the same height as her. A brief flicker of emotion passed over her like a memory: satisfaction. Real-Cressida was pleased to be on even footing with a man.

The pastor and her uncle exchanged some words about giving her away, which she ignored. Giving her away? More like getting her out of their hair. She stepped onto the dias before she was meant to, triggering a frustrated sigh from both of the older men.

"Let's begin."

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Gaetans eyes followed her as she drifted down the aisle. Floating. She was floating. He noted how tall she was, but he didn't care. Her veil hid her face from him, but he could make out dark colored hair underneath. For a second, he thought her a ghost. A beautiful ethereal ghost that was drifting towards him. His skin that he'd been wanting to tear off moments before, finally stopped feeling like it was crawling. They eyes were no longer on him. They were on her. He admired her dress, instantly love and appreciating the flowered design of it. He wanted to touch it. To reach out and trace the peddles of the large flowers. Were they soft? They didn't look soft. He imgained they felt silky though. He liked the feeling of silk. It had an interesting texture. He wanted to touch it.

His hands tightened around the hem of his jacket. No. No touchy. Not yet at least. Mother had practically beat it into him he couldn't go around touching things. Not today. Even if the urge was strong he had to be good. One of his hands went into this jacket pocket, feeling where he'd had the ring, but also the rabbits foot he had snuck into his pocket without mothers knowledge. His finger stroked over the softness of the fur, and his body visibly relaxed as he let a slow sigh out.

She was on the dias then, her uncle and the pastor exchanging words. Gaetans eyes were still on the dress. She was tempting him now with how close she was, but he also noticed her veil. He liked the veil too, and the light airiness of it even if he couldn't really make out her face.

Hand.

Hand right! He was to take her hand. Her uncle placed her hand suddenly in his, and Gaetan looked down at it in his. There was a contrast in their skin tones that he wasn't sure if he liked, but her hand felt nice. Soft. Her skin was soft, whereas his hands where calloused and rough despite being a noble. They had a slight red tinge to it too. His mother had made him scrub, and scrub, and scrub to get the red away, but his hands were still stained blood red. No matter how hard he scrubbed. She'd almost made him wear gloves, and he hated gloves. They made it hard to touch things. Like her skin. His thumb slowly ran over one of her knuckles. His eyes transfixed on the sensation. He felt the prickle of the eyes again, and his grip tightened only slightly. The crawling was back. He could feel them watching. His eyes flickered to the pastor, realizing he was was speaking this entire time and now he was looking at Gaetan. Gaetan blinked and the Pastor repeated himself. "Repeat after me." He instructed. Gaetan slowly nodded his head, and the did as he was told. "I, Gaetan Primm take you, Cressida Page, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I will love and honor you all the days of my life." He said. His was quiet, low sounding, but also melodic. He was afraid he'd been too quiet, but also didn't care so long as Cressida and Pastor heard him.

He looked back down at her hand, thinking his part was now over. He was getting transfixed again, and then Pastor suddenly reached out and touched his elbow. He jumped slightly, looking at him. "Ring?" He whispered. "Oh." Gaetan blurted as he began to dig it out. His mother was glaring. He could feel her eyes glaring at him. He quickly took her left hand. "With this ring I thee wed. As a sign of my faithfulness, I promise to protect you from what goes bump in the night, the people with hats, and the always watching eyes. I will be your shelter from the storm, and slay the monsters or anything that haunts you. I will cause you no harm, this I swear." He said. He could hear his mother gasp, and a few murmurs, but he ignored them. He then slipped the ring he had chosen on her finger. Mother had wanted something more traditional. Have even given him one of Grandmothers rings to use, but he instead, he'd slipped the ring he'd made for Cressida onto her finger. This was his wedding too. Mother didn't have to have a say in everything. Gaetan was pretty sure she was conspiring with the people with hats anyways.

Back to looking at her hand. When she slipped his ring on, he stared at it curiously. It was a different kind of weight then what he was used too, but he liked it all the same. "You may now kiss your bride." The words sounded far off. Like they were echoing. Finally he could touch the veil. It was a bit coarse from the netting, but it was also soft on the edge. He took both hands tenderly gripped the edges, looking at what he was doing as he lifted the veil. It took him a minute before he actually looked at her, as he had to adjust the veil to make sure it laid right. No imperfections allowed. When he finally looked down at her, one side of his mouth curled up into a shy half smile. "Hi." He said softly.

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Her uncle followed her and put her hand into the new man's. She almost didn't notice, until he ran his calloused thumb so softly over her knuckles. His skin was warm against her icy hands. The sensation pulled her in, falling back into her body where the weight of living struck her again. Her knees trembled, but she stayed upright. She was almost Real again. She could see the world more clearly now, even with the hinderance of a veil.

The parson was rambling on about love and devotion, but she tuned him out, focusing instead on the young man. He didn't look dangerous...he looked frightened. She couldn't make out the particulars of his appearance, but his posture was enough to tell. She could recognize it from experience. She wondered what was going on inside his head. Did he think she had killed them both? His parents must not, if they were willing to send him here. Somehow that didn't reassure her.

She was drawn back to reality once more as he spoke his vows. His voice was nice, she decided, like music. She hoped he could sing. That would be a pleasant change. She was still thinking about what he might sound like as a singer when the pastor nudged him and he lifted her hand to slide on a ring. It was warm from being in his pocket, and a perfect fit, but she couldn't make out all the details. She would have to look later.

She was far more interested in his vows. "With this ring I thee wed. As a sign of my faithfulness, I promise to protect you from what goes bump in the night, the people with hats, and the always watching eyes. I will be your shelter from the storm, and slay the monsters or anything that haunts you. I will cause you no harm, this I swear."

His words brought a wide grin to her face. Oh yes, she liked this one. He sounded like a poet. Perhaps she could be a little creative with her own vows, hm?

She echoed the dreadful nonsense from the pastor first, as one does, but in a dull and listless voice, almost mocking his droning. She lifted Gaeton's hand to slide a smooth silver band onto his ring finger with no prompt needed. She was still grinning as she did.

"With this ring I thee wed," she began in a strong, clear voice, and she heard her aunt murmuring in the background. Good, she thought, you should be impressed. "As a sign of my own faithfulness, I vow to be your light in the dark, the rest in your song, the oasis in the desert. As you protect me, so shall I protect you. We shall be as equals, perfect partners in our way. So long as you do me no harm, I shall do none to you. May we both be keepers of our word."

And then it was time--he was going to lift her veil, let her see. She was more alert than she had been in months, she could feel every thread in her dress, every inch of her vibrated with apprehension. It felt like every emotion she'd delayed since the day her aunt told her she was betrothed was suddenly pumping through her veins.

She bounced slightly on her toes as he adjusted the veil for far longer than she had patience for, but once those blue eyes met hers, she couldn't help returning his smile. He was lovely, and she found herself wanting to touch the soft curls of his hair. She decided to wait, til there were no wandering eyes. There would be time, later...or at least, if she was still Real later.

"Hello."

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Blue eye's met brown, and his gaze flickered down to her smile. She had a very nice smile he decided. He took his time looking her face over. She looked like an elf. High cheek bones, thin face, and he suddenly wanted to paint her. Or at least draw her. He wondered suddenly if she'd pose for him. He spotted her scar on the right side of her jaw, and then noticed the scar on her left collar bone as well. Questions suddenly appeared in his mind, and his first one would be to find out who had dared to do such a thing to his woman. His eyes went back to hes, a question in his eyes. He didn't know how much time had passed, until the Pastor cleared his throat and he heard his mother's loud sigh. Oh! Right. He was supposed to kiss her. He was only a inch taller then her, so they were about the same height. He didn't have to bend over, or stand on his toes. 

He smiled shyly at her taking a  deep breath. He slowly reached up to gently cup her face. His thumbs resting in front of her ears while his fingers rested on the nape of her neck. His eyes jumped to where her hair rested against his finger and he looked at it in awe, his eyes going wide slightly, and excitement showed in his blue eyes. He couldn't help but turn a finger up to gently stroke a strand. "You're hair is soft." He whispered in awe. The fact clearly delighting him. The Pastor cleared his throat a bit impatiently again, and Gaetan glanced at him. "Right, sorry." He murmured. 

His cheeks took on a slight rosiness and he grinned shyly at her again before he leaned in. If she allowed his lips would lightly brush against hers, before they settled more firmly against her own. His closed for a moment. It was weird...His first kiss happening to be the first kiss he was now sharing with his wife at his wedding. Wife. Wow. What a word. He pulled back, a bit taken aback by it. His lips tingled where hers had been pressed against his and felt a fluttering sensation in his stomach. Was he supposed to feel this way? Did all kissing feel this way? He blinked in surprise and then he realized the organ was playing and the Pastor was announcing them wed. He let his hands fall from where they held her face, and he realized they were supposed to walk down the aisle together now. He quickly took her hand in his. Wanting to feel the softness of her skin again. He eyed the sleeve of her dress, and then couldn't resist as he ran finger over the material. "Not soft." He whispered, almost in disappointment, but he found a petal and lightly traced his finger over it. That, that was soft. Content with this knowledge, his eyes flickered up to look at all their guests. They were watching. All of them were. 

He caught Claudia shaking her head at him. As if she knew he was about to hiss like a cat everyone. His nose twitched in irritation, and instead he growled lowly under his breath, while the Pastor announced them. His eyes narrowed and he put Cressida's hand in his other so she was reaching across his body, so he could wrap an arm around her and rest his hand on her waist. He took his duty as now being her protector very seriously. And that meant protecting her from the eyes of scrutinization and eyes in general. He released her hand to he could flex his fingers and then they were being motioned off the dais. Right, good, they could flee. His strides were long, but he forced himself to to go slow, and it wasn't until they were off the dais and in the aisle, that Gaetan took his hand off her waist, and instead linked arms with her. 

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Cressida was content to wait and let him stare at her all he wanted. She wouldn't lie; she liked the attention. She'd always thought she looked almost like her mother--and her mother was beyond beautiful, like a painting or a statue of a goddess come to life. She liked to think she was beautiful too. She saw his eyes trail her scar, and he looked surprised, but before she could even shake her head to distract him, they were interrupted. The pastor cleared his throat at them, and Cressida shot him a dirty look. Rude. Neither of them had wanted to be here in the first place, the least he could do was let them enjoy a small part of it.

Hm, alright, maybe that interruption had been alright, because it meant he was touching her now, the texture of calloused skin over her jaw kept her grounded firmly in her body. She liked it. It had been ages since someone had touched her softly since she'd been kissed. How long now? Two years, almost? His delight in her hair being soft made her laugh softly. How sweet. It wasn't any doing of hers that it was soft--that was all her aunt once more, and some kind of hot oil treatment the night before. It had been matted and awful before that. She wondered vaguely why it hadn't bothered her. There hadn't been any reason to care, she supposed. The pastor interrupted again, and she rolled her eyes, but dutifully held still as Gaeton kissed her.

She closed her eyes to savor the brush of his lips on hers, although she wished he'd be a little more--ah, there he went. No need to hesitate. Her lips parted softly against his, encouraging, but he was already pulling away. Well, that could come later. Perhaps he was shy. Yes, he did seem shy, based on the color of his cheeks. A sly smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she watched him. Wait...he looked surprised. Had he never kissed anyone? Her grin spread. That could be fun.

She hardly noticed that he wanted to touch the fabric of the gown--she'd done the same thing when she saw it, curious how it would feel against her skin. 

She turned to the crowd with him, and as her eyes left him and returned to the chapel for the first time since she'd arrived, she felt nausea wash over her. The smell of the flowers was overwhelming, threatening to choke her. How had she only noticed it now? She flinched closer to Gaetan as the pastor brushed past her and her heart began to race. Just as she did, he took her hand and used it to pull her close, sliding his hand around her waist. A thread of sanity seemed to bind her there, where his hand rested against her hip. She could feel his warmth through the sheer fabric of the gown. She let him lead her down the aisle, and she almost protested as his arm left her waist, but at least he still had a hold on her. She clung to his arm as if it were the only thing preventing her from drowning--and perhaps it was.

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The couple and the guests were led in a small procession across the grounds to Weatherford Hall proper. After passing through some barely-burgeoning gardens, the crowd went up a few steps onto a wide stone porch, then in through a pair of double doors directly into the ballroom. The room was large, paneled in a dark wood, with large arched windows to allow in the light.

On the first half of the room, long tables had been set up for guests, with a table set aside for any higher-ranked guests to sit together, and another next to it for the married couple. Food had already been set out--large platters of roasted pork, fresh bread, pies, and cakes of every flavor. The Page family clearly spared no expense making sure their guests were comfortable.

The other half was set aside for a dance floor, should anyone wish to do so, and a solo violinist played soothing music as guests began to enter.

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Guests can now post whatever they want, in whatever post order! Any noble from Tresteria is welcome to have attended; the Pages and Primms invited anyone who's anyone in an attempt to make things a little less...strange. Have fun!

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Cressida would find that as they entered the ballroom, Gaetan would suddenly stop, muttering under his breath, he counted to thirty, and she would notice that he rose up on the balls of his feet, clicked his heels together exactly thirty times, and then would continue into the room as if nothing had happened. 

He didn't know what to do, he could hear his mother ordering servants about and hear people filtering in. They were allowed to talk freely, but he didn't know what to say. He did however, look around at the guest. More importantly he narrowed his eyes making sure no one was wearing a hat. Good. Mother had heard his request. No. Hats.  

He glanced as Cressida again. Transfixed on that dress of hers, he ran a finger over one of the petals on her sleeve again. "Gaetan!" He heard his mothers voice. "Hmm?" He asked. Tracing the outline of the petal. "Why don't you and Cressida sit down and we'll all have food yes?" He didn't look at his mother, but could feel her hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge. He didn't realize that they were essentially just standing off to the side. "Okay." He said. Food would be good. He thought. He pulled his attention away from the flower and walked began to walk towards their table. His mother right at his other side. "Does it have to be in the middle?" He grumbled, seeing that their table was in the middle of everyone else's. They could stare at them. He didn't like it. "You two are the guests of honor! Of course!" She said. "Cressida dear you absolutely lovely." His mother said. 

Miryam Primm was a tall woman, thin, with greying blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was very pretty, but Gaetan didn't think she was beautiful. Claudia was beautiful. His mother dulled in comparison. Especially to Cressida. "Radiant." He corrected his mother, He looked at Cressida as he said it. "Mmm yes." She said in agreement. They finally got to the table, and Gaetan would help Cressida sit down, as his mother hovered. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Aren't...you over there?" He asked. His mother blinked in surprise and then gave a short laugh. "Yes, yes I am. Just making sure you're settled. Are you doing alright?" She asked. Gaetan glanced around, and slowly nodded his head. "No hats." He said. "Yes, I absolutely forbid them." She said. Gaetan grinned widely then. His smile practically beaming. "Then I'm excellent. Enjoy dinner mother." He told her. Miyram smiled, apparently pleased with him, and smiled at the two of them before she walked away. Gaetan turned back to Cressida. "She's a bit overbearing." He whispered to her. A small smirk appearing on his face. 

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Cressida was hardly aware of anything around them as they made their way across the grounds. Everywhere she looked was a memory. Ghostly visions of her parents flickered here and there--laughing under the trees, reading poetry between the rose bushes, chasing a tiny Cressida across the grass as they played. She didn't want to see, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. To anyone else she might have looked absent and distracted; after all, the ghosts were only in her mind. She looked too closely at one of the many mothers flitting between the trees and flinched when she saw the blood spattered across the front of her gown. She turned her gaze sharply to the path just in front of her feet. 

When her aunt led the group towards the ballroom entrance she relaxed slightly, glad to stay away from the main foyer. Aunt Caroline must have known that would be too much. The last time they'd tried to bring her there she'd pushed a full-grown man out of her way to get out. The servant had forgiven her, apparently, since he hadn't quit his job, but he had stayed far away from her since then. 

Walking up onto the terrace her feet seemed to weigh a ton, slogging through quicksand to reach the doorway. What ghosts would linger inside? It was Gaetan that pulled her back to the present again when he stopped in the doorway, and she watched with curiosity as he tapped his heels thirty times before entering. That was...odd. She was about to ask why he'd done it when she saw a blonde woman approaching with a waspish look on her face despite the way she bared her teeth in something meant to be a smile. Cressida didn't bother returning the gesture.

She watched the interaction between mother and son with sharp eyes, noticing the way Gaeton seemed irritated by her hovering. Well good, he was a grown man and didn't need to be pushed around--and besides that, this was his house now. If she were feeling a bit more in control of herself she might have just told them all to get out. But Aunt Caroline had gone to a lot of effort with all this, she'd just go along. Arguing sounded exhausting. It was almost sad--she used to love a good argument. But then, she was always tired, these days. The dark circles under her eyes were strong, but even so they only hinted at the exhaustion that lay deep in her bones.

Gaeton's correction to his mother's compliment made the corners of Cressida's mouth twitch upward, but she said nothing. She allowed Gaeton to guide her to their table and pull out her chair, although she just frowned down at the food in front of her. Her stomach was still churning from the smell of lilies in the chapel. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that there was not a single knife on the table. Good. 

She took a gingerbread cookie from one of the nearby trays and nibbled slightly on its edge as Gaeton shooed his mother away. Aunt Caroline always knew how to get her. She'd live on nothing but gingerbread and spiced wine if she could. It was the only thing that didn't taste like nothing, for the last year or so. 

She returned Gaeton's smirk with a devilish smile of her own. "Not for long. I was just realizing--this is our house now. Once this is done, we won't have to do anything here we don't want to." Her grin spread, although her low voice was barely a whisper. "The first thing I'm going to do tomorrow, when they're gone, is run around the place in my underwear and sing at the top of my lungs." 

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Gaetan's blue gaze didn't leave his wife's, yes wife, face. He liked her smile. She had a nice smile. Especially when she smiled like that at him. It was...playful. Like...mischievous almost. No one really smiled at him like that so this was quite the pleasant change. His eyes went wide at her with what she said. For a second he didn't think he'd heard correctly. None the less, a bit of excitement entered his eyes and he leaned in, his eyes looking around to make sure no one would hear him. "We can do that?" He whispered. He...He had never been allowed to do anything like that before. To be...So free. Mother had always been lurking or watching. To such a thing? To run around in his underwear without worry about getting yelled at? His own devilish grin appeared. What better way to rebel against mother and the rest of the Primms then that. 

"What song will be singing?" He asked. Picking up his own gingerbread cookie. He usually wasn't allowed sweets, but...This is was going to be his house. Mother would have no say. He was going to eat as many as he damn well pleased. He averted his eyes for a moment, lost in thought, and then almost looked shy, but he couldn't help it. He had to say it. "You know what's also fun?' He said quietly. Bringing his head in to whisper more. "Streaking through the woods. But you gotta be quick so people think they saw a ghost." The corners of his lips curled up into a smile as he bit into his cookie. He chewed on it, before his eyes wandered to everyone eating. He could feel the eyes on him again, and his blue gaze soon found Claudia looking at him. He waved to her, and she waved back. Giving him a smile, before her eyes darted to Cressida. Gaetan glanced at Cressida as well and found himself touching the fabric of her dress again with the gentlest of touches. "Do you think anyone will miss us if we sneak away later?" He asked. 

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She loved watching it dawn on him that they could do what they wanted. It was like she'd just opened up a whole new world to him--and perhaps she had. She didn't say anything in answer to his question, she just nodded and smiled her Cheshire cat grin. She watched the innocent shock turn to mischief on his lips and almost laughed. She decided she liked having a husband. At least, this husband. Watching his ocean eyes sparkle and his grin spread, she had an urge to kiss him, but she swallowed it. Later, she told herself.

"Whatever song you like. Do you have a favorite?" She asked. Her mouth was dry, and she could hardly taste the gingerbread in her mouth, but she chewed and swallowed mechanically. Her aunt would only try to force something else on her if she didn't manage this. When he turned back to her to whisper, she leaned in close so that his breath tickled her ear. His suggestion brought a genuine laugh to her lips, one that rang through the ballroom as she threw her head back. How long since she'd properly laughed? She couldn't remember. Streaking through the woods, hm? She'd try anything once.

She watched him as he looked out over the crowd, and turned to see who he looked at when he waved. A blonde girl was giving her a dirty look, and Cressida impulsively stuck out her tongue at her before she turned to Gaetan with curious eyes. The way his fingers trailed over her arm was distracting...but she didn't entirely want him to stop. "I don't think we'll have to do much sneaking. They're going to shut us in the bedroom later, anyway. For...you know." She raised her eyebrows and gave him a meaningful look. She wondered if he'd thought about it at all. She hadn't much--she'd been rather resigned to it, until now. But now that she thought about it...a wedding night might not be so bad. Especially if they were going to have this much fun running wild together. It made her feel like she was alive again.

"I don't sleep, anyway, so we can go out tonight if you want. Run by the light of the moon."

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Gaetan continued to nibble on his cookie, tilting his head from side to side as he thought. "Not really. Mother says music makes me agitated. I think it gives me energy. Speaks to me. But she says to trust her and that she knows best." He shrugged. Eating the rest of the cookie before he picked up a spoon and slowly scooped up some scalloped potatoes.

He saw her stick her tongue out at Claudia and a burst of laughter came at out before he was leaning in to whisper to her. "That's my little sister Claudia." He informed her. He set the spoon on the edge of the plate and then went right back to touching her sleeve when she reminded him they were going to be shut in, and he frowned. Oh yeah. That. "I don't know. I've never done it." He admitted. If it was one thing Gaetan was, it was honest. His blue eyes flickered up to hers. "Does that...bother you?" He asked slowly, curious to see what she would think of having a virgin husband in more ways than one.

"You don't sleep?" He asked her curiously. "I sometimes can't get enough sleep. I"m sure mother has warned your aunt about my sleeping habits..." He mumbled, going back to yet again trace the petals on her sleeve. "If you don't mind, can I draw you? You remind me of some otherworldly creature." He asked, not caring how it might sound, but he really did want to draw her. She was exquisite. He had to get her face down on paper or canvas, and it was a want and desire that was growing more insistent. He didn't know what he would do if she said no.

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Cressida's expression soured. "Your mother sounds quite awful. Music is lovely, and I think our house should be filled with it as often as possible. We'll see to it. If it ends up making you unhappy, then we just need to find some different music. There are all kinds, you know."

She almost said his sister must be just like her mother, but he seemed to like that one...so she'd have to wait and see. Perhaps she was just jealous that Cressida got him all to herself.

She took another bite of gingerbread and tried to chew, frowning when she could hardly manage it. She took a large sip of wine to wash it down. Better. Her stomach wasn't quite as rebellious as her mouth, at least. Gaetan's quick admission of inexperience caught her attention, and she nearly made a joke about it being simple enough, but then she saw that he actually looked nervous, and her callous expression softened. Did it bother her? No, it didn't, though she wasn't sure why. She just shrugged. "I haven't either. Although I know the basics; I've seen it done in books. But it never seemed quite as exciting as people made it out to be." She couldn't resist a little smirk. "I guess we can find out, if you're up for it." She glanced at his hand that still trailed over her arm. She'd thought he was flirting, sort of, but he didn't seem to realize he was doing it. She added it to her list of Interesting Habits. If she'd had one of her old notebooks, she would have jotted it down for further observation.

Ah, sleep. Elusive and traitorous creature. "Don't sleep, won't sleep, can't sleep...it all boils down to the same thing. Sleep is not rest when every dream is a nightmare. I don't like the things I see there. They give me no peace." She sounded like a riddle, but she rather liked it. Perhaps this new un-dead Cressida could still manage some decent poetry. She liked having the new stimulation. "But you can sleep all you like so long as you don't expect me to do it. I don't trust it." She shivered slightly at an old memory and was about to tell him what she'd seen when his next question knocked her off balance and left her with wide eyes.

"You draw?!" she exclaimed, absolutely lighting up. She was like an entirely different person, now, having gone from ghost to undead as he got her attention, and now she was so close, just on the cusp of being herself. The darkness and ghosts still loomed at the doorway, but this was the most Real she'd felt in so long.

"What medium do you like? Do you only do figures? How do you feel about charcoal?" Her questions were rapid-fire, leaving no room for answers as she turned her whole body in her chair to face him. "Oh please tell me you like charcoal. I've nearly papered over my whole room in my sketches. Oh, you can do my portrait and I'll do yours, it will be absolutely fantastic. Oh, we could do nudes and scandalize the whole kingdom while we're at it."

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Gaetan jumped slightly at her exclamation. His blue eyes going a bit wide as he froze. "...Yes?" he said slowly. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Most of the time no one paid interest to his drawings or paintings because he always painted in monotonous colors. Aka. Red, red, and more red. It was something his mother had given him to do long ago in hopes of getting him to hold still and focus on something, and it was something he found great joy in.  A way to express himself, where it didn't matter if no one understood what was going on in his mind or not. He could paint his frustration, his happiness, his sadness and hurt, and make it into something physical. 

The way Cressida lit up though, he quickly saw it was a good thing, and she practically came to life next to him. Glowing even more with her radiance. He was instantly interested and turned in his chair to face her more. Completely forgetting about the food for the moment. She rattled off all her questions, and he found himself grinning like a mad man that had just made the biggest discovery known to man. She was an artist as well. Someone who would understand. Get him. He felt a warmth and excitement explode in his chest, and he chuckled. "Everything." He said quietly, but it was clear he was excited to know this fact about her. He took on of her hands in his, and then turned his hand so it rested in hers. His palm facing up at them. She'd be able to see the red still on his hands from the paint he used, and the red clay. It was almost a permanent stain on his hands at this point. "I paint mostly, but I also work with clay, and I draw. I drew first. Charcoal is....messy." His smile only grew. Normally Gaetan hated messes. There was an order that needed to be done with things, but art was the only mess Gaetan allowed.  "I would certainly enjoy that." He chuckled. He leaned in a bit to whisper to her. "It would send mother into a ripe ole tizzy." He smirked, before he was turning his hand to take hers. Curling his fingers around her hand, he turned it and brought the back of her hand up to his lips where placed a gentle kiss to the back of it. 

"I think we're going to get along just fine, my dear." He murmured. A sly smile appeared on his face while his bright blues sparked with mischief. "I'd love to see these sketches. And decorate the whole house with more. For everyone to see." He whispered hurriedly. He gave her hand a slight squeeze, clearly thrilled with this new prospect.