CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN – HASTY MARRAIGE

From his seat at the head of the nave, Julian's impassive gaze drifted over the assembled masses with reigned indifference. Elite movers and shakers from every illustrious corner of society filled the cathedral's vaulted arches, their jewel-toned finery and impeccable grooming radiating an almost incandescent sheen beneath the streaming rays of mid-afternoon sun. A few daring trendsetters no doubt would feign breathless astonishment over the jaw-dropping expenditures laid bare with each delicately calligraphed placard -- from the tidy sums reserved for the escort of armored Andalusians to the staggering figure earmarked for the crystal-strewn floral artistry alone. Julian, however, barely registered the sensory onslaught of reverential piped hymns and delectable Victoria perfuming the expectant air. He remained utterly dispassionate in the resplendent tableau's epicenter as the tolling bells signaled the commencement. It was staggeringly...predictable, this entire elaborate specta