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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1891. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

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During the Victorian era, knitting became a staple of a well-bred woman. Queen Victoria is even reported to have been a fan of knitting herself. It was during this time that knitting wasn’t just restricted to plain yarn fabrics, but changed to involve bead and lace knitting. — Fallin
Yuri didn't know what being a steamed patron was but it sounded like it might be painful.
Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

Negotiated Vows
17 November, 1891 — Destiny Hotel, London

The wedding was completed, the reception was winding down, and tomorrow morning they would be in Beijing for their honeymoon. He ought to feel relieved that they'd made it this far without further incident (given how many things had happened during the proposal process that qualified as incidents), but instead Emrys was a bundle of nervous energy. The vows had been haunting him since he'd repeated them back to her in the church. He'd managed to keep up appearances through the reception, but by the time they finally reached the hotel room upstairs he could hold back no longer. If Angelica was hoping for romance on their first night together as a married couple, she was bound to be disappointed. Given the circumstances, however, it would have been rather ridiculous for her to have set her sights on a seduction on tonight of all nights.

"We should talk about the vows," he said abruptly as the door closed behind them. He'd been very conservative with his liquor intake this entire day, because he was paranoid about slipping up and saying the wrong thing to someone at the wrong moment if he had too much to drink, but now that it was just the two of them he moved to find a glass immediately. There wasn't liquor in this hotel room, but the staff had delivered a bottle of champagne, which would have to do.

Really, the time to talk about the vows had come and gone. He should have talked about the vows before he'd given them, but there had been other things on his mind... that, and a sort of existential dread surrounding the idea of making vows at all which had caused him not to think too closely about them other than to agree that whatever was standard practice for the church would be fine. On the other hand, why bother examining the vows before the wedding day? It wasn't as though either of them would have an option not to agree to them when the time came. They were trapped here.
@Angelica Selwyn

Bree made this!
Angelica Vorona died today. The thought was still parading through her head hours after she had signed the documents marking her rebirth. She could read the strain in her husband's - her husband's - face, Emrys was maintaining his composure, as he always did, but she could read the nerves in his too-tight smile, in how stiff he went at a congratulatory word. She had her own fears about their future, but the worst of her fears was behind her. Once they spoke the words and signed their marriage license, a knot in her chest unraveled. He hadn't left her alone at the alter, he'd come and he was still here. They were legally bound and she no longer worried if her Emrys would prove a flight risk. It didn't matter now, not to her. Whatever happened now, she was Mrs. Emrys Selwyn and she was safe. She could finally move from her fear of losing him to proving him wrong. There was nothing simple about marriage, not really, but it could bring joy, if both parties were willing. Angelica was more than willing, but her husband would take some work. Apparently, the work began now.

She'd heard him perfectly, but she ignored the statement momentarily to reach her luggage trunk. Her maids had done well in remembering the small gift she'd ordered for the occasion. With the madness of the last two months, they could both use this gift tonight. Pouring a healthy measure of the firewhiskey, she approached him with with the bottle and glass. "Not how I imagined giving you your gift, but it will have to do."

Free of bottle and glass, she was out of ways to avoid this conversation. It was difficult not to scoff at the vow she made today, the expectations of her were nothing new, but swearing to obedience to anyone was galling. She was his wife, not his servant. Her first wedding had no vows, it had crowns to reflect the glory of the union. It was two lavish days where she was a queen and subject to nothing but some higher power to which she was ambivalent. But now?

"I meant what I said in my letter. The vows we made today are to appease society at large. Between the two of us, they are inconsequential. We will make our own vows."
WC: 391

[Image: 3yopnb.png]
MJ made this miracle!
The bottle of firewhiskey momentarily stopped him in his tracks. Had she pulled that out in reaction to his moving to find a glass? Or had she been planning this all day, anticipating by the time they reached their hotel room that he would have frayed through the last edges of his nerves and would need alcohol to soothe them back down? Merlin. They'd been married less than five hours and already he was a terrible husband. Already she was going far out of her way to cater to his whims. Meanwhile, he had done nothing for her — unless one counted the wedding itself as something he'd gone through with only for her sake, which wouldn't be terribly far off the mark.

He accepted the glass and the bottle and retreated to a chair. He felt somewhat chastened by the gift, but not enough to derail him from this particular train of thought. He'd disagreed with almost every part of the vows they'd recited in the church that afternoon, and he had decided it was important to clear the air between them early on rather than continuing under false pretenses. Whether she really agreed or whether she was only trying to make him more comfortable was unclear, but in either case, he was pressing on.

"Then we'll start now," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat as he poured himself a drink. "Starting with 'forsaking all others.' That's rubbish," he pronounced. "And I know what you're thinking, about — you said before if I — that's not it. It's that I don't want you vowing to forsake all others," he explained. He was being less articulate than he would have liked, but given how tense he'd been all day he could hardly expect to be suave. "Because some women end up..." He faltered, unsure how much he wanted to say at first, then took a breath and continued in a slightly more level tone. "I've slept with a good number of married women. Their marriage gets stale and stifling and they're lonely, and miserable, until they can't take it any more and they find someone like me to make them feel better, and then afterwards they feel so guilty. And I know right now you're all optimism about this whole thing, but if we're talking about vows, if we're talking about forever, I want you to know that don't want your connection to me to leave you feeling lonely or miserable or guilty."

Bree made this!

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