The status quo continued for the next ten days. When I felt poorly, I stayed in my chambers with Regeda, who turned away any well-wishers with the excuse that I was busy planning my wedding. It was a fair comment, for whenever I felt sufficiently stoic I’d trudge to the market square and organise the ceremony.

Trent's treasury was covering my expenses so at least I could console myself by indulging in the pomp I had so sorely missed during my coming of age ceremony. There would be no less than three artists present, all taking my portrait from different sides of the aisle. My shoes were extravagantly expensive, with high, curved, and backless heels. I took to wearing them within my chambers, to avoid the possibility of an embarrassing mistake on my wedding day. I hired a hairstylist to craft my long hair into a meandering fishtail-shaped braid. My dress and veil were virginous white muslin and silk, tailored closely to the curves of my torso. Underneath the dress, a thin but sturdily reinforced corset would flatten my ribs and expose my bosom in the modish fashion. I became acquainted with dozens of new styles of makeup and face-painting, and it was decided that I would be emblazoned with a tripartite of three red circles, one on each of my cheekbones and the third in the centre of my forehead. The technique was not something I’d seen in Ebonreach, but it was apparently in vogue in the Mountain Duchy. I thought that the bright colouring made my eyes seem small and drew attention from my immaculate hair and beautifully beaded lace veil, but Wilbern mentioned it during one of our dinners and I felt that I had little choice but to please him.

The Grand Monastery was the usual location for the weddings of nobility in Hollowhold. Prince Milos and King Degron had both issued their marital vows under the Monastery's iron bell. Though I had walked past it many times I’d never before entered it as I preferred to practise my religion in solitude.

This time, I entered the Grand Monastery to properly plan the wedding and found that it was not much to my liking. The nature of Hollowhold meant that there were no windows and hence no stained glass. The bell, though huge and ornately inscribed with scenes from Yoru's exodus, was badly chipped. Finally, the pews were far too numerous for me to hope to fill them. The short notice given for our wedding meant that only those in the Mountain Duchy and the nearest portions of Trent would be able to attend, and the monastery had seating for thousands of people.

A few days after my betrothal was announced I received a letter from Timoth. He hoped that I was well, and gently reminded me that my mission was to procure troops for the realm. As if I could have forgotten. even as I was faced with the imminent prospect of being discourteously humped by our royal neighbour. Timoth was not to know that: the letter I had sent to him containing word of my betrothal even now would not have reached him. I was concerned by a note of pessimism in Timoth's language, and I sensed that he was beginning to buckle under the pressure of managing Ebonreach. It steeled my resolve to continue with the wedding.

These things played on my mind in the days leading to the ceremony. My mind went through several stages of panic and relief. At first, I was stressed because ten days did not seem a long time to plan what could be the most important event in my life. However, after a day or two, things seemed to slow down and the wedding suddenly seemed far enough away that my anxieties faded.

Sadly, two nights before the wedding my worries returned, carried by Duke Wilbern during our shared evening meal in his chambers. We finished a hot meal accompanied by inoffensive conversation. I had gotten to know him a bit better since the proposal, and was better able to make him smile and laugh. Physically, our relationship had not progressed much past kissing, but at that point I was only two nights away from consummation.

Wilbern went to a fireside cabinet and retrieved a fresh vellum scroll entitled 'Deed of Marriage'. Previously, he had instructed me to manage the ceremony to my heart's content, but to leave the writing of the deed to him. We would sign it together during the wedding, but this was my first look at it. I was originally content to skimread it, for the opening paragraphs were unnecessarily embellished and full of dramatic prose, but as I got into the body of the text I pulled the scroll closer for analysis.

There were some sections I would have preferred not to read, but to enter into a marriage in ignorance would have been folly. I was judged to be adulterous I would be turned out of Trent and not permitted to keep any of Wilbern's possessions. If Wilbern was adulterous his illegitimate children would not become heirs, and I would have the option to terminate the marriage and be granted a private residence of my own within Trent with a state pension. This would also occur if Wilbern died before siring an heir, though there was no mention of what would happen if I died before producing an heir.

As was the legal tradition across Halivaara, the deed stipulated the order of succession: our eldest son would inherit, and if we produced no sons, our eldest daughter would become our heir. There were extensive provisions delineating the powers I would be permitted as Duchess of Trent, and those Wilbern would be allowed as Count of Ebonreach, but it was something more personal which caught my eye in a most terrifying manner.

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'What is this?' I asked, pointing a trembling finger at a clause about halfway down the vellum. Surely it was a mistake, or some ancient tradition that I would not be expected to adhere to.

Wilbern moved behind me and looked over my shoulder. 'That requires us to consummate the marriage on the night of the ceremony.'

'But it says… It says that the consummation is to be witnessed. That we'll be watched,' I said, trying to keep my face neutral and my tone mature until I heard his response.

'That is the Trent tradition,' Wilbern said. My eyes widened like saucers.

'That is not my tradition. I won't do it!' I shrieked, losing my composure. I felt as if I’d been personally affronted; as if my own fiancé was deliberately setting me up for embarrassment

'I'm afraid that's non-negotiable. If my father had left me a more stable realm, then perhaps I would have leeway to waive this clause. Yet he did not, and it is important that I do everything within my power to prove the strength of our bond.'

'I will not stand to be watched!' I insisted. Wilbern pulled his chair next to mine and sat down, taking my hand in his. His hands were dry, but I allowed it for fear of offending him.

'The bed will be surrounded by a thick veil, and the room lit only by candlelight. Only our silhouettes will be visible,' Wilbern explained, but I shook my head vigorously.

'No. No!' I said. I didn't trust myself to speak for fear of an emotional outburst.

'Look at you! I hardly think you have anything to worry about,' Wilbern said. Another of his crude yet allegedly flattering remarks. I had grown somewhat used to them, but in this case I gritted my teeth at his casual disregard for my feelings. I forced my complaints down into the depths of my mind, letting them rest at the nadir where my dreams of marrying Prince Alum had gone to die. Everything I did was a sacrifice, and now I was to sacrifice the privacy of my own body as well. Wilbern continued, ‘I’m not comfortable with it either, but it is expected of us.’

Despite feeling rather distraught, I forced myself to behave as though Wilbern had placated me, and continued reading the contract before me. Thankfully, there were no further surprise inclusions, though I did notice something which was conspicuous by its absence. I had to frame this carefully…

'I… I have not had a lot of experience reading deeds of marriage, but I believe my parents' contract contained a clause saying that if my father… attacked… If he permanently injured my mother, in the course of the marriage, she could divorce him and retain a portion of his wealth… Is that just another different Ebonreach tradition?' I asked as innocently as possible. In light of the rumours of Wilbern's extra-curricular activities I felt it an important question. Contrary to my words, I knew that such clauses were common in marriages between people of all classes.

'My father’s advisors have recommended that I do not include such a clause in our deed. They feel, as I do, that if you are to be the Duchess of Trent, you must embody the proper role of a woman to provide an example for our subjects. They fear your regional upbringing may have instilled you with a greater degree of independence than would normally be the case, and that risking divorce would risk the stability of the Duchy,' Wilbern replied.

To his credit, he said it all with a straight face. I'm not sure whether he was concealing his own feelings on the matter – be they sympathy or sadistic anticipation – or was simply uncaring, but I was apalled. Was not only my the physicality of my body, but also its healthiness, to be the sole domain of Duke Wilbern? What then would I retain? Only my thoughts?

I shuddered, but Wilbern was clueless as to the real cause. 'Here,' he draped a felt shawl over me. It would have been rude to discard the shawl so I suffered its presence and forced the damning words from my mouth.

'I agree to these terms,' I said detachedly, picturing my brother's hardship as I did so. He needed the men that Wilbern would bring; that the deed of marriage required him to bring to the aid of Ebonreach. Of course, Ebonreach was equally liable to be called upon to defend Trent, but there was no doubt that the smaller realm would enjoy the better end of the bargain.

I scarcely slept that night. Instead, I lay awake imagining the possibilities of physical torture at Wilbern’s hands. How would he permanently maim me? Would I be able to walk in ten years' time?

The only thing that could take my mind from the lack of recourse I would have in such circumstances was the violation I would endure on my wedding night. I had been willing to submit to Duke Wilbern's urges when I proposed to him, but to be watched was another ordeal altogether. I had no idea what would be expected of me. Would they expect me to exhibit a skilful technique? Or would they expect me merely to lie across the bed and succumb to Wilbern's manhood? Part of me feared that I would freeze up in the face of such voyeurism, and that the only way that consummation could occur would be through Wilbern's force of will.

I shuddered at the thought, and found myself no closer to sleep.