And do you take this poncey noble to be your husband...

[hergelaufene]

Who: Sir Gilbert Beilschmidt and his wife-to-be, Elizaveta.
When: Mid-afternoon, June 11th
Where: In Gilbert's private chambers.
What: Since Gilbert is apprently getting married, he needs Liz to help him practice. For the ceremony. That is totally happening. Totally.

Comments

Is it the look on your eyes~?

[lizzypan]

Halfway between squeezing her feet into shoes that were not made for humans, Elizaveta tried to push away all the attendants fussing about her. "You're pulling too hard ow ow ow--do I really need another flower oh god of course just ignore me over here-Oh yes! Um, Sir Beilschmidt, of course it's my pleasure to assist you." Elizaveta rolled her eyes as she finally succeeded in throwing them all off.

As he walked in, she couldn't help but feel something unpleasant flip in her stomach. She chalked it off as it being annoyed (despite what she said) to be his training bride, and even more annoyed that she was feeling very uncomfortable and he was only calling her 'alright'.

And the real bride could have him. She wouldn't mind.

At all.

"Sir? I'm just going to ask this again, but... are you sure this is a good idea?" She looked up through her bangs at him, biting her lip. What the hell was this feeling?

Or maybe this dancing juice?

[hergelaufene]

Gilbert laughed. "Of course it's a good idea!" he said, walking over to her quickly, wrapping his arm with hers and half dragging her off the small podium they'd put her on. "It's my idea, isn't it? Thus, it can only be one thing and that, fake-wife, is awesome."

Beaming at her because even at this point she had no idea what was going on, Gilbert tugged her from the room, cane echoing through the hallway as he dragged her towards the ballroom and the awaiting cleric. And hopefully Francis and Antonio if the two men had recovered from the bachelor party last night.

"And besides, it not like anything bad'll happen," he said, stopped in front of the double door, and ROMANTICALLY taking her hands in his. "Come on Liz, it'll be fiiine."

Hey baby~ Stop trying to make me marry you. =|

[lizzypan]

"...Alright." She agreed hesitantly, pulling her hands away from his. "But I better be getting some kind of compensation for wearing these hideous heels."

And so the double doors opened to reveal a wonderfully white pathway to the altar where a priest stood, looking all professional. They had really done everything full out, even for just a practice, she noticed. Unintentionally starting to walk as the Wedding March started, she blinked at the rose petals scattered everywhere.

Thank god there was not a chance that she was getting married in a sort of situation like this. Looking at Gilbert, she laughed slightly.

"Hey, shouldn't you be less excited? I'm only the fake-wife, right?" She whispered, teasing.

b-but bby I think I wanna marry you!

[hergelaufene]

Gilbert looked down at her and grinned, kissing the side of her head, letting his face rest in her hair for a moment before pulling back.

This was actually happening.

He was getting married. To a servant. Whom he loved- adored- and kinda hated whenever she chased him with a frying pan, but she was his... Going to be his at least.

"I'm just imagining how she's gonna look in that dress." Gilbert said once they were at the alter, reaching over and gently tugging the veil away from her face, whistling. "You clean up good Liz."