Vicky peterwald dominato.., p.3
Vicky Peterwald_Dominator, page 3
After shaking the hand of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Vicky was introduced to a Methodist bishop, a Buddhist bishop, the president of the Lutheran Synod on Metzburg, an Imam, and representatives of several different denominations.
Vicky had already been told that the local Wiccans had been invited to send a representative, but the various different associations had not been able to agree on a single representative.
After her honeymoon, Vicky was requested to attend a hand fasting ceremony in their sacred oak grove. She and Mannie had already accepted.
Every hand shaken, the men of God strode off, most prayerfully. They needed to get to the front of the church and were headed for a back entrance.
Now, Vicky was accosted by a collection of worthy politicians. This had been cut ruthlessly to the bone. All the visiting heads of planets would get their chance to shake her hand later and wheedle her for something.
Here, all Vicky had to put up with was the President of Metzburg and the Mayor of the capital, plus a very few other representatives of business and society. The men bowed. Several of the women attempted to curtsey, not an easy thing to do in a pencil skirt.
Vicky gave them an A for effort if not for delivery.
All the time this was going on, the bridesmaids had been entering the church and proceeding down the aisle.
"Your Grace, aren't you after me?" Princess Longknife said, and picked up her skirts to hustle, ever so graciously, up the steps.
"Ladies, Gentlemen, in this bodice, I dare not run, so, if you will excuse me, I must get to the church not quite on time."
She was allowed a soft titter of laughter. They left, leaving her to wait for several twelve-year-old girls to arrange her train and veil properly under the supervision of a very astute eighteen-year-old.
Vicky took a moment to focus herself. She buried her nose in her bouquet and took a moment to enjoy the lovely scent.
Fixing a bride's smile on her face, she began the slow walk up the cathedral's broad steps. As she reached the last step, the organ, a monstrous thing with at least five keyboards and an entire forest of pipes, began the strains of Pomp and Circumstance.
This bride was no common bride. This bride was a grand duchess, ruler of half the Greenfeld Empire and heir to the rest upon her father's death.
Speaking of which, where was the old fool?
Still, Vicky refused to let that thought ruin her day.
She stepped into the church and began the longest walk of her life.
Hopefully, there was no one inside who wanted to kill her before she reached the altar.
5
Her Imperial Grace, Grand Duchess Vice Admiral Victoria Smythe-Peterwald was living a dream, and discovering both the dark side and silver lining simultaneously.
As a young girl, she'd always wanted to be the center of attention. Yet, that attention always went to her brother. She'd love it when she was given fancy dresses, although it so often felt like no one around her was all that impressed by her or the dress.
Even as a girl, she had known that her marriage would be arranged by her father. It would be an arrangement that brought him the most political and economic benefit.
What her wedding would bring to Vicky would not get a moment of his reflection.
Now, as the music of the great organ swelled and filled the church, Vicky's long walk down the aisle gave her time to reflect.
She was certainly the center of attention, not only of the thousands in the cathedral, but also of millions watching on media here on Metzburg and billions who would catch it when it was broadcasted around her half of the Greenfeld Empire.
However, it wasn't her they were watching. No, she had become the physical embodiment of their own hopes and dreams for a better life, a better world, a better Empire.
That was what she had learned through the hard year of dodging and finally rebelling against her stepmother, the Empress. Alone, Vicky was dead. With the willing assistance of her subjects, she not only could stay alive, but they could achieve so much more for themselves and each other.
I am a flag they salute, but in saluting me, they salute each other as well as themselves.
That had been a strange lesson, but Mannie had helped her learn it.
Mannie, the man she had chosen to marry.
Funny that. Once more she had a fancy dress, but it was one that other people had chosen for her.
Yet, while the dress might again be not of her choosing, the guy at the end of this walk was most definitely the one she wanted to marry. The man she wanted to share her life with.
Everything was so very extraordinarily special, and totally different from what as a little girl she had expected it to be.
Of course, that little girl had been taught little more than needlepoint and the Kama Sutra for offense and defense. Oh, and to obey Father's word instantaneously.
As Vicky paced off each step down the aisle, she was glad she could let her face relax from the perpetual smile to something more solemn. The moment certainly called for that. Still, she nodded a bit to the right, then a bit to the left.
These people would remember such a nod for the rest of their life. At the moment, Vicky wasn't sure she could remember any of their faces for a second.
She was actually starting to get butterflies in her stomach!
It couldn't be that she was nervous about their coming wedding night. She'd bedded hundreds of men and not a few women while she'd been using them for one means or another.
She and Mannie had not exactly waited for the minister.
Of course, the last month they'd been more than busy. She'd been doing her best to gently coax half of an empire toward sane and safe policies while being set about by women who clearly wanted on their tombstone that the greatest achievement in their entire life was getting one Grand Duchess married properly.
Mannie had spent a lot of time at her elbow, but he'd also been off with his democratic friends, plotting against the autocratic tendencies of so many of the power brokers in the Peterwald Empire.
The entire raison d'ȇtre for the Empire had been to provide the Smyth-Peterwald family the levers of power to secure themselves and a vast and growing fortune. Deals had been made with lesser men of power. They might amass fortunes themselves if they made sure the Peterwalds amassed more.
Then Vicky's father had fallen under the spell of a young, beautiful woman, and the reins of power had slipped from his hands to her family's. She might have gotten away with it, were it not for one meddlesome and totally terrified kid.
The Empress had placed a target on Vicky's back, a price on her head, and some murderous hounds on her trail. That mistake had cost the Empress her life.
Now, Vicky and her chosen were trying to give an empire back to its people while others grabbed for power for themselves.
It was a messy business.
But, today was not for business. Today and the next month were for Vicky and Mannie.
Me, my, mine.
The long walk seemed to go on and on. The people lining the aisle were a blur. Vicky's mind was full of so much.
Then she caught sight of Mannie and her heart stopped. She missed a step, struggled with her balance for a moment, and might have tripped over her own feet. Still, she recovered and continued her walk.
Now, she felt her face break out into a most wondrous smile. One that he returned with his own bright grin.
Mannie had an army of groomsmen. General Jack Montoya stood at his side, resplendent in a blue and white dress Marine uniform. Several admirals in Greenfeld dress greens stood in line behind them, all bemedaled, most with awards and orders she had bestowed upon them for fighting by her side.
Still, the only person Vicky had eyes for was Mannie.
Now, one Grand Duchess had to struggle to keep from breaking into a run. Dutifully, Vicky kept one eye on her maid of honor, Princess Kris Longknife. Vicky could not get any closer to that troublesome princess. A Grand Duchess had to let a princess lead her and keep the proper interval in their march.
Still, Vicky's other eye never left Mannie.
If she lived to be a thousand, she could never get enough of looking at that man. There was no question, he was not handsome, as some would call it. And yes, he was always struggling to shed those ten extra pounds he insisted he needed to get rid of.
Still, swarthy, grinning Manuel Artemus had a power and a gentleness about him that Vicky had recognized the first time she met him.
If Vicky could smile any more, she'd smile at the memory of him finagling her, through Kris Longknife, to give his Sevastopol on St. Petersburg its own city charter. He wanted a charter to allow his growing city to rule itself, within its own boundaries and to its own ends.
Vicky was very glad she let Kris talk her into that. When she fled to St. Petersburg for her life, assassins on her heels, Mannie had taken her in, willing to pay a debt he felt he owed her.
He'd saved her life and began the new path that was leading her down the aisle and into his arms.
Thank you, Kris Longknife!
Vicky climbed the steps to the high altar, carefully holding her dress up off the ground so she wouldn't trip. If she thought modern women had obstacles put in their way, imagine a day when you had to keep your hands free to lift your skirts so you didn't trip over them.
The little girl who wanted the fancy dress was now very much replaced by the Grand Duchess who wanted to keep her hands ready to fight for what was right for her people.
If Vicky had had her way, she'd have been married in dress whites - pants, no less.
Oh, Lord, how that had caused consternation in the hen house. You would have thought she was the fox.
But there was no more time for thinking. There was Mannie, reaching out his hand for hers.
She had been firmly told that the bride and groom did not hug until the end of the ceremony. It took all of her will power to obey whatever elephant it was that decreed such a thing.
From the look on Mannie's grinning face, he was having a hard time as well.
Or were they both remembering Kat's comment, "The whole idea is to make it legal for the two of you to jump in bed. So, why don't they have a bed right there in the middle of the church, you two dash in naked, jump in bed, and consummate the marriage? Everything done and duly witnessed."
At this moment, Vicky was thinking Kat's wedding ceremony was looking good.
6
Three hours later, two things were clear. It was fortunate for humans that a computer did not snap at people for asking for the ten thousandth time, "How long so far?"
Also, Kat's idea of including a bed and just fucking for everyone to see was getting more and more attractive.
Back at the palace when Vicky was growing up, that might have been a great idea. Here, Mannie was quick to point out, hard working middle class values applied.
Being a Gracious Grand Duchess was a whole lot harder than being one of those damn Peterwalds.
Vicky knew she was in for a long haul when she realized there were more religious types seated around the altar than had greeted her. One was the Greek Orthodox Metropolitan for Metzburg. He'd been caught in traffic.
Some of the others were lower clergy that didn't rate the right to shake her hand before ceremony. Others were assistants to hold books open. Others swung something that burned what was supposed to be sweet smelling incense, but tended to turn Vicky's stomach.
Lots and lots of helpers.
With lots and lots of stuff to do.
In the wedding rehearsal, many parts of the ceremony had been hurried through with "and then this happens." "and then they do this." and "we wait while that is done." Now, all of that was done in real time. Lots of real time.
Vicky should have gotten the message that they were in for a long haul when someone mention, "Here they bring in chairs for the wedding party." About fifteen minutes into the ceremony, Vicky heard soft noises behind her and looked back to see men in gray robes quietly rolling in chairs and locking them down.
A moment later, the guy with the funny hat that was talking said, "The wedding party may now sit."
Vicky knew that there were cameras on her from every angle, if not flying overhead. She did not silently squeal her glee or secretly fist bump Mannie. She sat most ladylike, trying to arrange her huge train to trail gracefully around her chair.
As the hours went by, Vicky was introduced to all sorts of marriage customs from around her half of the Empire.
For example, several planets had admonishments read to the bride. Vicky rejected most of them immediately, but Mannie softened her, and they agreed to a list that Vicky would put up with. She also threw in a list of admonishments to the groom.
While a tall willow of a man with a voice like sandpaper and an accent that encrypted every word he said in an admonishing tone, she found a senior marksman from among her rangers who had the voice of a Gunny and the force of a hurricane. Vicky had seen her in action and could think of no one better to admonish Mannie with the reproofs she'd written.
Though she noted that while she still had the duty to bear children, her admonishment that he be a gentle lover, use his tongue often, and give her plenty of orgasms had been trimmed down to "give his wife children sufficient to carry on the line."
Damn prudes.
Vicky had looked at this as a chance to come up with a whole new tradition of admonishments for those of her people that used them. She was assured that the idea of admonishments for the groom was quite revolutionary enough.
Then there was the interpretive dance. The dancers seemed to be interpreting meeting, courtship, marriage, and family. Some of it was quite explicit. However, most of the impact was lost because all of the dancers wore long, flowing sleeves and robes.
Vicky realized she wasn't the only one stripping the dancers with her eyes when the trousers to Mannie's tux began to bulge.
She grinned at him.
He leaned close and whispered in her ear, "You, young lady, are a bad influence on your poor groom. Oh, what happened to your neck and why is your breast turning black and blue?"
He offered an ear, and she whispered, "Yes, I am a wicked lady, and I'll tell you later about how Kris and her Marines saved my life on the carriage ride here."
Mannie raised his eyebrows, as if to say “Again?”
Vicky shrugged softly, and went back to the dance. Were they really dancing an interpretation of childbirth?
Finally, exactly three hours and thirteen minutes into this, a dozen of the religious types gathered along the top step of the altar. The cardinal issued the invitation to take their vows.
Vicky, as a Grand Duchess marrying a commoner, went first. She'd planned that they'd both say the same vows.
That didn't last long. "Your Grace, you cannot vow to obey a commoner."
Thus, Vicky swore to "love, respect, and consult" Mannie. He did swear to "love, honor, and obey" her.
They both exchanged rings after the vows. Then, all of the dozen intoned together, "I now pronounce you Grand Duchess and consort. You may now kiss each other."
Boy, did Vicky kiss Mannie. Or he kissed her. Somehow, she ended up bent backwards.
It might have gotten very interesting, bed-in-the-cathedral interesting, but someone from the altar, actually several people, cleared their throats.
Vicky and Mannie did their best to get back up the aisle, but everyone wanted to shake hands. It was a good half hour before they got to the church door.
As they stepped out, a physical wave of shouts and applause washed over them. Vicky almost felt compelled to take a step back.
She waved her bouquet at everyone. That raised the noise level from nine on the Richter scale to eleven at least.
Then the two of them kissed and the crowd went even more wild.
When things quieted down, the two of them slowly walked down the steps, alone. No official had joined them. Kris was holding back the rest of the wedding party at the door. No one dared risk the disapproval of an admiral and a lieutenant general. Certainly not if they're part of the Longknife legend.
Finally, Vicky made it back to her coach. The two footmen helped her and her dress back in. Mannie climbed in, and ended up with part of her dress in his lap, even though it now covered much of where Kris had sat on the way there.
It wasn't easy making room for a guy when you were sharing your seat with a monster veil and train.
Vicky did. No way was he riding in his own coach. Or even on one of her eight white horses.
They pulled ahead slowly, and now the wedding party began to make their way hurriedly down the steps to their own coaches. After a few minutes that Vicky spent waving at the crowd and kissing Mannie, Kit clicked at the horses and let the reins fall lightly on the horses. Kat released the hand brake, and they were off.
They made a short spin around Cathedral Square, then trotted up the broad avenue that had been renamed Freedom Way. There were several hotels up this way, as well as a huge football stadium. All would be filled, and she and Mannie would have to make at least an appearance at each of them.
It looked to be a long night.
7
An hour later, Vicky found herself standing at the head of a receiving line at the most very important VIP reception of the night. For once, she'd be ahead of Kris.
Even before her carriage arrived at the largest hotel on Metzburg, the VIPs had arrived before her, having slipped out several side doors at the cathedral and had been driven here by car.
As soon as she and Mannie were in place, she started shaking hands. Fortunately, her computer fed her names, and an inane comment for each ambassador, chief of state or prime minister for a planet, or wealthy magnate too important to shuffle off to another venue.
By a special grace, Kit showed up with a stool that she slipped under Vicky's voluminous dress, so she could sit while doing her Grand Duchess thing.
Kris begged the same favor and Vicky graciously granted her wish.
"Thanks, I owe you one," Kris said with a half-swallowed grin. Blow away a vicious stepmom and her entire battle fleet, and Kris got a stool to sit on. Favor for a favor.
