(To avoid anything feeling out of place, the proceedings followed a medieval manor wedding. The wedding dress was a Victorian white bridal gown, and the groom's attire was adapted from French formalwear.)
The lion was quietly weeping, but the wedding continued.
Under Pastor of Vows Miriel's guidance, the guests filed out of the church and formed a vast semicircle on the broad, carefully swept grounds before its doors.
Miriel moved slowly and steadily to a spot before the center of the semicircle, facing both the couple and all the guests.
It raised its enormous head, which looked especially solemn beneath the Iris Pastor Hat, and its voice carried to every corner: (The following draws on translated wording.)
"In accordance with the ancient rite of vows, I ask here: does anyone among you know of any impediment to the union of Horace Loux and Rellana Caria?"
With that, it paused, its eyelids lifting slightly as its tranquil gaze slowly swept across every face present-from the Queen of Caria to the attendants in the very back, from the sovereign of the Golden Dynasty to the Storm Emissary in the corner, from the noble knights to the Albinaurics standing quietly.
The crowd was silent. No one spoke, and no one stepped forward.
Whether out of sincere goodwill, political calculation, or simple awe, no one wished to become an obstacle to a marriage alliance so clearly blessed by several major powers.
Miriel waited long enough, then, having confirmed that no one objected, slowly nodded. "Since there is no impediment, let us proceed."
The ceremony then moved on to a more practical, even somewhat nakedly transactional stage-the declaration of property, rights, and obligations.
No matter how many flowers, poems, and romantic vows adorned it, marriage in the Lands Between could never be stripped of its