Alpha Charming | Rheon

TWO

I found Craig in the living room downstairs after spending an hour photographing Reyna in the process of getting ready. He was struggling with his tie, cursing when his fingers got stuck in the knot.

"Here," I offered, placing my camera on the nearest surface to help him out.

"Ta," he grinned and straightened up, "Didn't take ya for a lass that knows how to tie one of these."

"My Gran taught me how," I recalled as my fingers worked the knot, "Most of the things I can do today is all thanks to her."

When I was satisfied with my handiwork, I gave him a light pat against the chest and retrieved my camera. Craig turned towards a mirror and seemed genuinely satisfied with the result. He almost looked younger, all dressed up in a dark grey suit with the checkered red tie standing out against a crisp white shirt. His hair was still disheveled though.

"I was told to head down to the chapel to await the bride, but this place is so big I already forgot Reyna's instructions on how to get there."

"Allow me to escort ya, m' lady," he linked our arms with a jubilant smile and led the way.

We strolled through a well-lit corridor with crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. I couldn't help but admire the paintings on the walls. Instead of pictures of wolves and dog-like creatures, I was met by the faces of men and women. Just like the castle, the paintings were ancient and stunning. I had to give it to the artist, they had an eye for detail. It was almost hard to imagine the people in the pictures weren't alive.

"The Balfours of the past," Craig spoke out of the blue and pointed at the first portrait on the left, "Right here is the bastard who started it all, Craven With Many Middle Names Balfour. 'Tis piece of land and castle are both named after him, Craven Pride. He got married, had a bunch o' children, and passed on his legacy to that eejit in the second picture; Alistair Middle Name Middle Name Balfour."

I followed to where he pointed, noticing the man in the second portrait resembled the first.

"Had some more children, happily died of old age, and left his son Barclay his great fortune," he continued, "After Barclay came Calder - he was a bit of a fixer-upper emotionally speakin'. We didn't think he would ever marry, but then he met his bonnie lass and next thing we know; kids!" He clapped for emphasis, "After Calder came Cormac, after him Donal - lovely lad - after him Graham who only had one son Lachlan, who married a lass from Wales and had Ramsay Balfour. And do you know who came after Ramsay?"

I hauled up my shoulders and shook my head.

"Well," he pointed from Ramsay's portrait to the last one in the hallway, "he married his lovely Selene and nine months later, out came Emric Many Names Balfour, the very person whose son's gettin' married today."

"And where do you fit in?" I asked, curious about the Balfour history.

Craig looked at me as if I just asked him the stupidest question in the world, "I'm here for the wine, o' course." He chuckled and picked up his pace, "C'mon, we'll be late."

With my camera in hand, I followed him outside through the gardens and flowerbeds, and all the way down to the lake where the chapel awaited. A part of me expected to find an old, rustic building with moss-covered walls and faded stained glass windows.

I could hardly keep my jaw from hitting the ground when I saw where the ceremony would take place.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Craig spoke behind me, "'Tis used to be an old shed where they kept the shovels and things. It burned down in a fire years ago but somehow the original foundation and structures survived. Next thing we know, plants started to grow all over the place and 'tis is what we were left with."

I craned my neck and followed the vines and ivy up the stone columns to where they met at the wooden beams at the top and cascaded downward. A trail of white rose petals led the way to the altar where a vicar waited in his white mantel. Three bride's maids stood on the vicar's right and two groom's men on his left. The guests were all seated on wooden benches on either side of the petal trail, all patiently anticipating the bride's arrival.

Craig hurried towards his seat near the front, leaving me to wonder where I should stand for when Reyna arrives.

"All rise for the bride."

My heart nearly jumped through my ribcage when the vicar's voice sounded above the murmering of the crowd. Like one man, the guests rose to their feet and turned towards the back of the chapel. I ducked to the right before anyone could see me and hurried towards the front. Luckily, I took my place a few feet behind the groom's men just as the bagpipes began their wedding march.

Uttering a breath of relief, I readied my camera to capture the ceremony.

Time briefly slowed down as Reyna appeared at the start of the aisle. Although I've seen her in her dress before, she still took my breath away in the mystic, late afternoon light. She had an ethereal beauty about her, something almost inhuman to the naked eye. I figured it was just her bridal glow or the rays of sun that poured through the vines and ivy.

Or perhaps some people are just blessed with good genes and natural beauty.

Rotating my angle, I focused the camera on the groom to catch his reaction to his bride in that moment. Of all the weddings I've photographed, this is always my favorite shot. The way the groom smiled uncontrollably while wiping a tear from his eye, made me wonder if Matt will have a similar reaction on our wedding someday. Hell knows, he doesn't even cry during movies. Maybe it's a lawyer thing.

Once Reyna was handed over to her fiancé, the guests all took their seats. My feet were rooted behind the groom's men as I took one picture after the other, switching between filters and different contrasts for variety.

A deathly silence ruled before the vicar began, "Dearly beloveds, we are gathered here today in the presence of God to join together this man and woman in holy matrimony, and therefore –"

A loud buzz interrupted his speech before Beyonce's Single Ladies started playing from my jeans' pocket.

My stomach dropped when all heads turned towards me, "Oh, crap..." I clutched my camera to my chest with one hand while the other one delved into my pocket in search of my phone, "I'm so sorry, I...shit..." just as I had the phone in my grasp, it slipped through my fingers and dropped to the floor.

Somewhere in the crowd, someone snorted - I'm pretty sure it was Craig.

I dropped to my knees to retrieve my phone, which was still ringing. However, a masculine hand scooped it up first and held it towards me.

"Thank you," I breathed and immediately turned it off.

"No problem."

That voice alone is enough to send my stomach twirling. I looked up to see a man standing in front of me and I swear I felt my last train of thought disappear. Time was nothing but a concept when our eyes met as I became overwhelmed with emotions that made no sense.

It was like recalling a memory of someone I never met, and yet everything about him felt familiar.

There wasn't time to admire his other features before he returned to his spot at the front of the groom's men, leaving me red-faced and with his memory burned into my head.

"To proceed," the vicar cleared his throat before continuing where he left off, "We are gathered here today in the presence of God to join together this man and woman in holy matrimony; and therefore..."

I tried my best to focus on the rest of the ceremony while taking a few pictures here and there, but nothing I did could stop me from stealing glances at the man and picturing those eyes staring right through me.

The strange thing was, every time I found my gaze wandering back to him, his were already fixed on me.