Shoma was regal in the attire they had sewn, of royal blue with golden curls. Javi, knowing he could not compete with his bridegroom, settled for a matching gold waistcoat, and medium blue tailcoat. Not even the gloom and slight musk of the church could distract from how radiant the couple appeared as they pledged their troth to one another.
Prior to the moment they placed the rings upon each others’ fingers, there had been months of dancing, of laughter, of furtive congress. The resplendence of being engaged and holding hands in the market, of townsfolk expressing their happiness for the pair. Of Shoma coming to treasure Yuzu -- formerly Mr. Hanyu -- and his mother. Of Shoma learning to make less assumptions and listen more. And of Mrs. Uno in full command of the wedding plans, at times weeping, her tears a rejoice. For her Shoma had found someone who did not simply love them, but cherished them.
Exiting the cold church, the weather outside proved fine and sunny, the wild roses just beginning to bud and perfume the air of the wedding breakfast.
Mrs. Uno supervised the townsfolk, herding them into a queue. Mr. Tanaka loaded his plate with toast and eggs, while Miss Sakamoto drank hot chocolate and nibbled on rolls. Shoma vaguely ate some bacon, though Javi encouraged them to eat more.
“It has all gone according to plan,” Mrs. Uno declared as the line progressed.
She then discovered her husband was not only disrupting her queue from the center of the long tables bearing the food, but also serving the children cake.
“The children can’t have cake, they will become too excited --” she waved animatedly.
Mr. Uno ignored his wife in this instance, and continued to cut cake for the children.
“It’s a wedding , my dear,” he said. “The children are allowed to have cake.”
“Doctor Galindo would never approve --” his wife began.
Mrs. Uno turned and was met with Doctor Galindo, carving himself a slice of cake. She threw her arms up.
The two bridegrooms, meanwhile, had detached themselves from the food and thanking guests. Shoma had desired to be called a bridegroom, because it had bride and groom in it, and they were, as always, a bit of both. The pair of them looked at one another and linked hands, golden rings winking in the sunlight.
Javi kept Shoma from creeping off and falling asleep. They were so rapturous that they had become weary in the course of the festivities. They thought of tonight, when they would go home to Orser Manor -- and it would be their home too, at last. Javi would bear Shoma over the threshold and then they would have congress the entire night. Or part of the night, at the very least. The remainder they would laugh and converse.
And so they had begun the very great adventure of their marriage.