Blood Red

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T here had never been a more beautiful bride, never a more picture-perfect wedding. The weather had bowed down in honor of the occasion, and there was a slight cooling breeze. The night was neither too warm nor too cold, and the time had been carefully chosen; the sun was just setting in the western sky. The bride had longed for a castle, and they had found an ancient cathedral perched atop a hill within an old fortress town.

The groom was gallantly trying to be everything the bride’s fairytale prince should be. He had spent his adult life trying to live life by his own code, which demanded decency to his fellow human beings. He didn’t bend easily to anyone’s whim, but he had learned the importance of compromise, and of being compassionate. He knew himself capable of error and had learned to admit it. He could honestly say he was ready to battle for the downtrodden or the underdog, and he had lived through enough battles to see many of the errors made around him. More than anything, as he prepared to wed his stunningly bride, he could say that he loved her dearly, more than life itself.

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