Time passed, for some too quickly, for others mind numbingly slowly.
Greta, her well practiced fingers nimbly stitching and with the help of Ursa, worked against time, hurrying to get Sonja's dress and over dress finished.
The guards in the hall ways and gates of the castle kept themselves awake by passing the odd comment to each other, fighting of the drowsiness that a night shift brought, wishing that they were tucked up in their beds nestling against the warmth of their loved ones or at least some tavern wench.
The kitchen staff, busy with two feasts to prepare bustled around each other and allowed the younger amongst them to catch the odd nap before giving them a not so gentle nudge awake when they were needed.
The Bishop, helped by his two aids, to stand after a long kneel at the alter, finally crossed himself and headed to his rooms, a few hours sleep before early morning prayers at dawn.
And Borghast, snuggled deep beneath his heavy blankets, a smile on his face, slept the sleep of the innocent....
At sometime during the night, Greta and Ursa crept quietly into Sonja's room to leave the heavy velvet robe and the finer, but equally as beautiful silk inderdress, leaving just as quietly in the hopes of not disturbing a lady who, on the eve of her wedding would need a good sleep.
They smiled to each other as they left, snicking the door closed once more, both felt she was so lucky to be marrying the King....