The appearance of Beatrix, the girl whose true identity remained a closely guarded secret was at once the belle of the ball. It was a touching moment that did not detract from the bride or the occasion, it only enhanced it. The babe was a symbol of the future, of hope springing eternal. It was a picture of perfection, but even more it spoke of a family portrait. Beatrix was an integral part of that family. Everyone assembled here was not doing so out of obligation or a sense of duty, but because they genuinely wanted to. The Prince and Princess of Wales fostered an environment of peace, of love and respect, of mutual admiration. Yes, the sense of class remained, and it always would, but the divide between them all was not so significant, not so large as it had once been.
Alice had been prepared a brilliant bouquet of some of the most precious flowers of in the garden. There were reds, whites, and purples. It was held together within the palms of her hands, and taking in a deep breath with Alexandra by her side, she moved to set forth walking down the aisle. As Alice set forth, everyone in the seats stood and turned their attention to Alice. Never in her life had she felt so many eyes upon her, but here it was. Everyone was here for her. There was nothing like it.
For her own part, Alice walked in time with the music, but her head was kept down to a small degree, her eyes were welling up with tears and nothing had even begun. She couldn't even look toward the end of the aisle at her husband to be. Or to Arthur, she knew the second she connected eyes with him, she would immediately burst into tears, because for the first time she felt truly happy, and as though everything that was happening was meant to be.
Arthur watched as Alice appeared, and he was taken aback, here was Alice dressed in the color of the harlot, but the colour of the martyr. Moreover he hadn't even known that Alex had such a dress, but right here and now, he thought it was absolutely perfect. It was a bit of a Fuck You to the system, to the things which had them marry so quickly and almost in secret. To the system that was leading them straight down the path of all out civil war. The system that longed to keep him and his own beloved wife apart from one another. That said Alex wasn't worthy, that said Arthur was pushing down a dark path. It didn't matter now, this was a phenomenal day for one of his and his wife's dearest friends.
Of course he was delighted to see Alex by Alice's side. Arthur elbowed Thomas gently, a broad smile on his face. Alex and Alice were bucking every tradition, a woman walking another woman down the aisle, giving her away. It was positively spectacular, and something that brought him so much joy. Even Arthur felt himself shedding a tear or two.
Alice finally had reached the end of the aisle, and stood across from her fiance, and for the first time she looked up and made eye contact with him. A soft smile on her face, her gloved hand raising itself to wipe the tear away from her eyes. She breathed in deeply and her hands then immediately outstretched and grabbed his hands. "Hi." She whispered softly, and then looked toward Father Harrington who himself was full of smiles, and ready to begin.
And so he did, going through the beginnings of the rites of marriage. "We are gathered her today to celebrate the love and joyous union of Thomas, the Duke of Kent, and Miss Alice Sutton." Alice had quietly requested she not be referred to as a Lady, but rather as simply herself and where she came from. She was just quietly Alice. And now she was about to become the next Duchess of Kent.