Lirael-Mayfair

He saw her coming from a distance, long black skirt billowing over the ground, blue eyes full of uncertain grief and guilt beneath the dark silk scarf covering her head. Her gloved hands were clutching three red roses tied together in a black ribbon. He let out a silent chuckle- she always was the dramatist stuck in the ideology of the past. But that was all part of what he'd loved about her- her "ye olden times" eccentricity perfectly blended with the spirit of the 21st century. The heavy rock music, the Russian children's songs, the apple flavoured cigarettes at three in the morning...did she still remember all of that? Did her new husband