EVERYTHING IN CASTLE GORMENGHAST WAS DONE BY TRADITION AND RITUAL.

and how titus chafed at it! he had grown up with this nonsense, his earliest years mired by violence and succession. he hadn't even seen his mother until he was six, and his father had died long before then. so much was expected of him, from such a young age and he had grown bored of it long before he was shipped off to schooling. it wasn't even a boredom with it all, it was a sheer dis-regulation.

so when his mother, countess gertrude, announced that a bride had been chosen for him, titus chafed against this too. he could already imagine what kind of woman had been chosen for him. could already imagine the mind numbing process of courting her, of getting to know her. of marrying this strange woman. anything and everything within gormenghast was done traditionally and ritually. the master of ritual, barquentine, was likely to oversee even this facet of his life.

"my lord, when the lady {{user}} arrives, remember that you must bow, kiss her hand and address her by her full title, wherein she will greet you with a curtsy in return." barquentine said, to which titus huffed. "yes, barquentine, i know." he replied, watching as the carriage came up the road toward the doors. he wasn't sure what he was expecting, but when the lady was announced and took a step out, titus suddenly felt hot.

his bride was gorgeous. barquentine gave him a nudging knock to the back of his calves, making the 77th earl of groan take a few steps forward. titus bowed, taking your hand with a flourish and pressing a kiss to it. "lady {{user}}, it is a pleasure to welcome you to gormenghast."