Work Text:
Not once all evening had someone approached Bernadetta to proclaim they were Lord/Lady So-And-So and such a shame about your father and could you introduce me to– blah blah blah.
Not once all evening had Bernadetta felt the need to hide away because the hall was too crowded with strangers or people that whispered behind her back.
All that, combined with the amazing food and lively music, made this the best wedding Bernadetta had ever attended. The next time she got a moment alone with Ignatz and Claude, she planned to praise them and their planning skills.
She felt a hand at her lower back. “You look happy,” Sylvain said in her ear. “What are you thinking about?”
It had been a long time since Bernadetta had felt shy about telling her husband what was on her mind. But the specific thing she was thinking sounded rude no matter who she said it to. “Just that this is a great wedding,” she answered instead.
Sylvain hummed in agreement, watching Ignatz dance with his mother. “Much better than ours.”
Bernadetta practically sagged against his side. “Oh good, you think so too.” Sylvain wrapped an arm around her and laughed into her hair. “I didn’t want to be mean but you’re right!”
“It helps that Ignatz wasn’t expected to invite half the Kingdom. Or my parents.”
The memory of their wedding day still brought exhaustion to Bernadetta’s whole being. More than half the guest list had been people Bernadetta had never met before in her life, and half of that number had been people Sylvain detested. Their mothers had gotten along entirely too well for their liking, Sylvain’s father had scowled the at everything, there had been no end to the people who wanted to worm their way into the good graces of the new generation of Margraves–
Bernadetta watched Ignatz laugh as his brother dramatically whisked their mother out of Ignatz’s arms and into the next song. Apart from a few merchants and the Almyran guards keeping party crashers at bay, everyone here was friend or family. This wasn’t a hot social gathering for connecting with those in power; it was a celebration. And a spirited one at that.
Familiar lips brushed her forehead. “We should have another one,” Sylvain murmured, quiet enough to give Bernadetta pause.
She looked up at him. “Another what?”
“Another wedding.” He laughed again. “I mean, not the mess we had before. A wedding like this.” Sylvain nodded to the small group around the dance floor, the grins, the honest enjoyment, the way Ignatz and Claude beamed at everyone.
Then Sylvain ducked his head against hers. “Never mind. That’s a lot of fuss for no reason.”
“It’s not for no reason!” Bernadetta turned in his arms and cupped his face. “I’d marry you again in a heartbeat!”
A bright blush took Sylvan’s cheeks but he chuckled, holding her gently by the wrists. “Yeah? Who are we inviting this time? His Highness and Marianne, that’s a given.”
“Ferdinand too. And Petra since she couldn’t make it to our first wedding.”
“We should probably invite Claude and Ignatz. As thanks for the idea.”
“Yes! And Felix and Ingrid and Leonie and Dorothea!”
Sylvain laughed. “While we’re dreaming, do you think Ashe could cater the whole thing?”
Bernadetta pouted and squeezed Sylvain’s cheeks again. “I’m not dreaming!” She stated. “I would marry you again. I will marry you again!”
The levity in Sylvain expression vanished, replaced with a slack jaw and round eyes. “You’re serious,” he said with faint awe in his voice.
“I am.” She let him pull her hands away, gripping them tight. “Our wedding wasn’t us, Sylvain. I want a wedding that’s about us. Our happiness.” Bernadetta lowered her head to his chest, her next words muffled. “I love you.”
Sylvain let go of her hands and wrapped both arms secure around Bernadetta. “It wouldn’t be too much for you? Another wedding?” He asked, voice low and comforting.
“With you, I can do anything.” Even as she said the words, Bernadetta felt her face burn up. That sounded more like something she would write in one of her stories, rather than something she would say aloud.
Sure enough– Sylvain laughed and kissed the top of her head, ignoring the fist she blindly beat against his shoulder in embarrassment. “We’ll plan more tonight, then,” he said. “Maybe I’ll corner Claude and see if I can get him to explain how he kept it secret that the King of Almyra was getting married in a random Alliance village.”
“T-That would be useful to know.”
With another chuckle, Sylvain pressed his lips to the top of her head again, this time leaving them there as he said, “I love you, too.”
No Lord/Lady So-And-So came to interrupt their moment. No intimidating old noble who would look disparagingly upon them. No one was around them except for those Claude and Ignatz held dear.
So Bernadetta simply stayed in Sylvain’s arms for a few beats longer, letting him rock them gently as the music on the dancefloor picked up speed. She would dance with her husband later. Maybe even dance with Ignatz. But first, she had this moment of peace, and she used it to think about her own upcoming wedding.