Lucien's blue eyes opened slowly as the hour struck midnight. He sat up in one of Count Chastain's guest beds, his ears straining to hear what had woken him. He peeked through the thick canopy that enveloped the plush bed and saw that it was the creaking of the heavy oak door to his room that had roused him from his slumber. He sat up further when he heard Count Chastain's laugh down the hallway.
What was going on? Why was his friend awake so late? Come to think of it, did he ever see the Count in daylight? A nagging voice in his head told him to get up, and against his better judgement, he listened. It was dark in the manor and as he took a candle to guide him, he felt a shiver pass through his body. It was foreboding, traveling through an unknown manor towards the only light he could see. Once he got to the door, he heard a laugh from an unknown voice and paused, peeking into the door via the mere inches it had been left open.
Count Chastain was sitting on an armchair, but more importantly, someone was sitting on his lap. A pretty brunette person with medium-length hair, their arm curled around his shoulders. Lucien felt his breath catch in his throat. Something shot through him, adrenaline or fear, when he watched Count Chastain press his mouth into their neck, and the long fangs sank into the pale throat – but he blinked, and it was just a kiss instead of teeth. Lucien began to tremble. What had he just witnessed? He quickly ran back to his room, making sure not to make a noise as he went. His mind raced with thoughts and ideas, and of course Count Chastain was allowed to bed whoever he wanted; But the ivory fangs in his mouth made him question everything. The priest said a prayer over himself as he extinguished the candle, stepping back into his room and swiftly climbing back into bed.
A question pulled at the back of his mind. Who was the pretty person on the Count's lap? Did he enjoy their company more than he enjoyed Lucien's? For some reason, a small pang of jealousy ran through him. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, tossing and turning on the bedsheets until morning came. By the time that the maids woke him, he realized that he must have been imagining things after all. How silly of him to be so worked up by his own mind!
"Count Chastain is asleep," Kenna told him as he got dressed behind a privacy screen, "But he hopes that you had a lovely stay, Father Lucien. You are welcome back at any time."
Lucien smiled at her after stepping out. "Thank you miss Kenna, I've had a lovely time. Tell Count Chastain I said thank you."
"You really ought to call milord by his name, Father. He would want it that way."
"... Michel, then. Tell him I said thank you." He could not forget the way that his heart beat faster in his throat at the things he had seen last night. There was no reason to fear Count Michel Chastain, and yet. As Lucien got into the carriage to take him back to town, he watched out the tiny window until the manor was a blur of dark colors and memories.
The coachman dropped him off at the steps to the church and Lucien thanked him, pressing a few golden coins into the man's palm. He said he would take no tip, and yet, the priest left them all the same.
It was time to clean the church for the wedding that would happen later that night. The afternoon became a flurry of sweeping, dusting, and decorating, and by the end of it he'd almost forgotten entirely about the intimacy he'd witnessed between count Chastain and his unknown lover. The wedding party began to arrive around five or so, and as he took his place at the podium above the pews, he looked out at the crowd and nearly choked on the water he sipped at. The person from last night was in the pews, talking to a woman with long dark hair, and he blushed when he realized he was staring.
The more that he stared, the more that he realized the mystery lover was a man with dark brown eyes and slicked-back chestnut hair. He coughed, and the man caught his eye – and then winked. Lucien's brows rose. There was no way he recognized him, right?!
But he had little time to ponder how much of himself had been seen by Michel and the mysterious man; As the groom and bride arrived, the church went quiet and the organ player began to press the pedals and keys to Felix Mendelsshon's Wedding March. The bride walked down the aisle, accompanied by her older brother. Lucien smiled fondly at the expressions on their faces.
How exciting it was to witness love!
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today …"
As Lucien began to speak, and the bride and groom took hands, he glanced into the crowd and saw the man's eyes on him, instead of the happy couple before him. He would not choke on his words this time.
"To join Matilda and Joseph in holy matrimony. This wedding, officiated in this house of God, has been blessed by the saints," As he spoke he produced a little vial of holy water, gently dabbing some onto the bride and groom's hands. "And of course, God and his angels above."
Matilda turned to face her soon to be husband, tears glistening in her eyes.
"Should anyone object to this union, may they speak now, or forever hold their peace."
A few sniffles rang out through the crowd, but they stayed silent.
"The couple may now say their vows to one another …"
Matilda went first. She began to express what Joseph meant to her, how she promised to be a good wife and mother to their yet-unborn child, and that she would love him through sickness and death.
Joseph had similar statements; He promised to work twice as hard at the farm and provide for his newly-budding family, and that she was the love of his life.
"You may now exchange rings," Lucien said to the couple before him, watching as she slipped a gold band onto him and a diamond band onto herself.
"I decree you husband and wife underneath the laws of Heaven and wish you happiness forevermore. You may now kiss the bride!"
The church erupted with clapping and cheering as the bride kissed the groom and then she tossed her bouquet, Lucien watching in quiet horror as it landed on the mysterious stranger's lap.
"Go and be fruitful!" He called after Joseph and Matilda, as Joseph picked up his wife very gently and carried her back down the aisle, her long, lacy wedding veil trailing behind her, picking up the flower petals that the guests threw onto the couple.
'What a beautiful union,' Lucien found himself thinking, 'Perhaps someday, I'll marry too.'
As the guests began to leave, Lucien swept up the mess and began to take down the decorations. He went stiff when he realized someone had snuck up behind him, staying long after the other guests had gone to the party.
It was the lover.
What could he possibly have to say? Lucien turned around slowly, catching the grin on his features and swallowing softly. There was only one way to find out.