The bells that rang out on that clear morning at the Monastery of St Augustine-outside-the-walls were heard across Aersk and even as far away as the Forest Hall where the Prince’s Diplomatic Entourage were still eating breakfast and wondering at their sovereign’s early departure hours beforehand. The bells raised questions in the hearts and minds of everyone who heard them, wherever they were, not least in the minds of Nikolaus and Samuel, both of whom were considering at that moment if the bells were in fact ringing out in celebration, or tolling a dirge of death.

As they began to ring Samuel was collected out of the church’s side room and brought to his place in the procession that would be entering the church. He caught glimpses of the Prince, and he thought he saw Nikolaus too, and other people whom he assumed were priests or ministers of the rites, but it was all confusing and there were too many attendants and marshals whisking around everywhere. The hive of activity buzzing about was giving Samuel a headache.

Unprepared, with serious misgivings, Samuel allowed himself to be pushed and jostled into the right position, and slowly he listened and watched as the bells rang, and inside the church-proper an organ blared a grand fanfare, and one after another of the groups ahead of him disappeared into the cavernous building. He stumbled just outside the door, and someone gripped his elbow and helped him to right himself. Out of nowhere the elderly dresser made another silent appearance.

“All is well, and all will be well. Walk quietly, and calmly, and slowly. Look straight ahead, ignore everyone, and stop where Prince Nikolaus is standing. All will be well.”

Samuel smiled weakly at the woman’s gentle words, and clung to them like a lifeline. He’d done this before, walked into how many official functions, taken his place as his father’s son. He wasn’t unaccustomed. Drawing on years of muscle memory, Samuel willed himself into something that resembled dignity, schooling his face and calming his agitated hands. The pit in his stomach at the thought of what was about to happen wasn’t going anywhere, but no one but him needed to know about that!

The old woman patted his hand, recognising something new in his demeanour and withdrew silently once again. And so he waited, still and outwardly calm, as the bells fell quiet, and the priests arrayed themselves, and the Sovereign Prince took his place, and Prince Nikolaus made a grand and stately entry to the admiration of the court and crowd that had been gathered even in spite of the early morning, and the need for secrecy. After all, a royal marriage still needed to be witnessed and given credibility among the masses. There could be no doubt cast upon today’s great event. It wasn't every day that a prince married after all.

Then, after an excruciating pause, at precisely the moment that elsewhere royal couriers began their job of rousing commoners from their homes behind the palisades, sending them out to meet their soon-to-be-new-prince. At just that same moment, Samuel was given the signal by one of the hovering attendants. Gathering all his courage, he took his first step across the threshold and into the nave of St Augustine’s. Ahead of him lay the long centre aisle, beckoning him forward. Crowded in on each side of the church a crush of people pressed in on one another, arrayed hastily in their finest apparel. They stared at him, some inquisitive, some mournful, some downright angry. Samuel looked at none of them, he kept his eyes trained forward, locked on the figure at the far end of the church. 

There, ahead of him, a Prince waited, and a new life. For now!