The Grand Duchess Selection Ceremony
"It's not exactly a marriage registration—more like a common-law union?"
"Preparations are ready! Your Grace the Grand Duke, and Your Highness the Grand Duchess. Shall I escort you to the hall at once?"
"Yes, yes. Thank you, Lord Alfredo."
Daniela rose from the bed first. I was still sprawled out atop it. Come to think of it, I hadn't even had a chance to get dressed up. Shoving aside my regrets, I got to my feet. The day wasn't over yet, after all. I'd just have to time things right.
I took Daniela's hand and stepped outside. Alfredo lingered behind, issuing orders to the maids.
Halfway down the corridor, the guards stood in formation. Every one of them in crisp uniforms. Behind them, armored soldiers held their spears at a slant, tips aimed skyward.
The grand doors to Winter's Hall at the corridor's end were especially ornate. The captain of the guard stood ramrod straight.
"Your Grace, shall I open the doors?"
I nodded. As the captain swung them wide, everyone inside Winter's Hall stood rigidly at attention—ministers and nobles, and notably, noble ladies decked out in their finest gowns. The children had been chattering noisily but fell abruptly silent in the solemn atmosphere.
I took my usual seat, as Alfredo indicated. The one difference? An extra chair beside it. An ornate one, hastily placed but adorned with intricate gold wolf motifs entwined on black wood.
The moment I sat, Alfredo descended a couple of steps on the dais. Hexon handed him a scroll as thick as a man's forearm.
After checking its contents, Alfredo bellowed in a resounding voice.
We shall now conduct the selection ceremony for His Grace Theodore von Ardorno Iphera Wintergard,
the Empire's sole Grand Duke, rightful liege of the Northern Marches, supreme commander of the Northern Grand Army, and great protector of the people!
A hush fell over the crowd. Alfredo called out every Northern noble and minister by name, confirming attendance. With each name, they bowed ninety degrees.
Once all were accounted for, he promised honors for the absentees, then ascended the dais. I thought he'd approach me, but he went straight to Daniela and knelt before her seated form.
Alfredo asked her name.
"Daniela."
"Your full name and house, if it please Your Highness."
"Mm, Daniela von Bart."
"Understood, Your Highness the Grand Duchess."
With her name in hand, Alfredo returned to the steps and unfurled the scroll once more, formally proclaiming the change.
Henceforth, Daniela von Bart shall cast aside the name "von Bart" and take the name of Wintergard.
If any object to this, let them step forward now.
Silence. The children, bored, began murmuring quietly. No adult dared follow suit. Even the babies were mercifully quiet—though any louder and they might've started wailing.
"With no objections, we conclude today's selection ceremony for Her Highness Daniela von Wintergard, the new lady of Winter Castle, who has cast aside 'von Bart'!"
The moment Alfredo finished, a baby let out a mighty wail. But the crowd's cheers drowned it out.
For the eternal glory of Wintergard!
For the eternal glory of Wintergard!
The hall echoed with the roar.
From the doors of Winter's Hall, soldiers marched in to swelling music, unfurling massive flags emblazoned with the violet flower crest. Soon, those banners would fly from the castle's peaks—wolf and violet together, signaling every Wintergard was home.
"Your Grace. A word from you as well..."
"Must I?"
"Protocol demands it, Your Grace. Only then can the people truly revel."
At Alfredo's urging, I stood. All eyes turned to me. The children paused mid-play, sensing the adults' attention.
What to say? That'll do?
"I have just one request for you all. Treat Daniela as you would me—as you serve me."
"Fear not, Your Grace!"
"Good. And since she's from the south and still learning the North, be patient with her."
As I sat, the feast reignited. Music swelled, children dashed about freely, and mothers soothed their little ones more leisurely, cooing What's wrong, dear? It was a heartwarming sight.
Servants hauled in table after table amid the chatter, never pausing. Hard workers. I'll give them the day off tomorrow.
"Shall we head down?"
"Y-yes, Your Grace."
"Your Grace?"
Too many eyes on us? Daniela and I linked arms naturally and descended the steps. Once the servants finished setting, the eating and merrymaking began in earnest.
I quietly told Alfredo to grant the staff a holiday, then approached the crying baby.
"Y-Your Grace. And Y-Your Highness."
Leor's child—the one I'd named. Leor's wife, Isabella, bowed her head slightly. The infant's sobs had faded; now those round eyes sparkled with delight. Leor and Isabella whispered to each other, gazing at the babe.
I gently poked its cheek. So soft. Daniela watched too.
"Th-thank you for n-naming her, Your Highness the Grand Duchess."
"No need. She's even more beautiful than her name, Lord Leor."
Isabella and Leor grinned sheepishly. I murmured "Anora," but the baby didn't seem to recognize it yet. As I reached to poke again, tiny fingers clamped onto mine—barely wrapping around one digit.
"Adorable."
"The ladies are raving, Your Grace—saying the name you gave is too perfect."
"She's so beautiful, like a daughter."
"It's a son, Your Grace."
"That's how cute he is."
Whew, dodged that. I'd told them to assume daughter first when showing the baby. Spot on—they hadn't noticed. The grip held firm. The North's future shone bright. No parent wants a soldier, but this grip already...
"W-we couple have always h-hoped, eagerly awaiting..."
"Don't say that!"
"W-we long to m-meet the Little Duke, Your Grace."
Little Duke? I puzzled over it a moment before catching on. Teasing who, now? I glanced at Daniela's expression—thankfully, she seemed not to have heard. Or was pretending.
"We'll try."
"Th-thank you! Your Grace. When the Little Duke is born, I, Leor, will..."
"Got it. Got it."
The drinking began. We took the high table. Nobles shared tales as meat piled high and wine flowed endlessly. Even the children ate heartily.
I whispered in Daniela's ear.
"Ever read about this?"
"What do you mean?"
"In those trashy romance novels. Scenes like this?"
"I-I'm not sure..."
"You're the most important person here now."
Of course, it'd take time to settle in. Her blue eyes smiled awkwardly—no discomfort, just a stream of greetings. She'd catch on quick enough. Given time.
"Your Highness the Grand Duchess! Welcome once more to Winter Castle!"
The most overly loyal noble among them spoke up—white beard, white hair, with James de Wintergard looming awkwardly behind. He'd rolled through the front lines with Leor and returned when winter hit.
"House de Wintergard has historically guarded the Grand Duchess! We've faltered of late, but we'll prove our loyalty now!"
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
House de Wintergard had always led the Grand Duchess's closest guard. With no Grand Duchess till now, they'd let the duty slide, it seemed.
"Now that we have a Grand Duchess, perhaps drop the 'de'—honoring the late Grand Duke and Duchess with 'von Wintergard' instead."
"Theodore von Wintergard, you mean?"
"Precisely."
"I'll think on it. We're not formally married yet, after all."
Dead. Silence.
I regretted "formally" the instant it left my lips. Mistake. Glasses froze mid-air. All eyes locked on me at the high table. Scary—stop staring!
Lord de Wintergard broke the hush. I half-expected foaming at the mouth; it was close.
"Your Grace! Please, never speak such words!"
"Your Grace! Such talk..."
"Gr-Grand Duke, Y-Your Grace, that's—!"
Real mistake.