Viviane then looked over her shoulder.
The young bride was coming up the aisle, and a shower of white rose petals was falling on her from every direction. The silver sound of the trumpets reverberated in the high, fine vaulted ceiling. Every head was turned to admire her. Behind her walked her five sisters, dressed magnificently, their faces calm and composed, giving no sign of what had occurred in the bride’s chamber such a short while before.
As the party neared the space in front of the altar, the groom rose and stepped forward. Curious to see what kind of man would marry such a green child, Viviane stood on tiptoe to catch a glimpse of him. As he turned to face his bride, she saw with horror that it was Gerin.
She looked quickly at Olwen and by her expression knew that she had recog
