Ok, you know it was going to come.

How did Alaric and Gesla meet ( what can I say, love bitch character full of flaws like Gesla)?I mean, I'm looking overall at the world where they live and it seem almost impossible to find or choose the person you really love there, except that these two somehow did...

Or are they actually faking it like most noble family in 40k and cheat on each other, actually don't care if their children are happy/safe/with a good partner and just think about securing alliance( if so, I am officially NO longer team GeslAric)?

Thankx and have a good day!

Alaric and Gisla are definitely in love, don't you worry!

Both come from fairly well-to-do noble families on Guisorn III, and they were betrothed at a fairly early age for the sake of an alliance. They likely didn't interact much as children, since Alaric was in Knight training, and then was away on campaign. But there were probably a few balls were they were expected to speak and dance.

As it so happened, theirs was a marriage that grew from mutual physical attraction into friendship into love.

Flails in Knight!AU

Meeting the family...

In an adjoining receiving room, Lady Gisla had then introduced her to the two women that would become her sisters in marriage, the Ladies Agatha and Sylvie de Gauvain. By the look their mother gave them, Aurelia guessed they had been lurking there despite being told not to. Aurelia liked them both upon their meeting, finding not just that they were of an age (though perhaps Lady Agatha being slightly older), but also that their countenances were charming and their questions pleasant. Lady Agatha, the oldest of the two, had asked after her hobbies and if she liked to read. Lady Sylvie had wondered what the food was like on Alera II and if she’d had any pets growing up (Lady Sylvie had been allowed only fish, due to Lady Gisla’s allergies). 

Lord Alaric de Gauvain had been seated with his son in the guest wing’s study, engaged in a game of regicide. Neither man looked up when she and the rest of the de Gauvain women entered. Aurelia could see from the pieces that her soon-to-be groom was losing.

“Your brother is losing,” Aurelia had whispered to Agatha.

“Against father?” Agatha had replied, a half-smile on her lips. “He always lets him win.” 

Sneaky sneaky peeky peeks?

The chapter just keeps on going. (Some adult themes below)

Lady Gisla navigated her way with ease within her own apartments, taking Aurelia and her coterie of laughing, cheering women up to a small chamber filled with wardrobes and mirrors. And it was here that Aurelia found herself stripped down to her skin and all the fine decorations in her hair plucked out. She covered herself with her hands, unable to stop the frown on her face as Lady Solange pulled her arms away and said, “You are Guisornian now, dear. We do not have such shame.”

All over she was touched by fingers anointing her with fragrant oils that smelled of night blooming flowers, and her hair was brushed until it hung like molten gold down her back. 

“You do have good hips,” Lady Gisla said with an approving nod as she held out a white shift for Aurelia to take. “It can be so hard to tell in dresses. But I am not displeased; I think you shall successfully carry children without much fuss.”

“Mother,” said Agatha, “perhaps you can keep such observations until after their first night?”

“Why should I? Anything could happen on the first night, Agatha. Your brother, for example, was one such product of a good first night.” Lady Gisla sniffed and gave the shift a small shake, urging Aurelia to take it. “Besides, if she had a poor build, we might need to keep a specialized chirurgeon on hand. Wide hips mean easy births, which is important, as de Gauvain men do not make small babies. I should know.”

Sylvie cringed. “Please, mother.”

As she reached for the fabric, Aurelia couldn’t keep the words from pouring out of her mouth. “You are more than happy to strip me - your sister by marriage - and touch me in sensitive places, but the thought of your parents coupling on their wedding night disturbs you?” The women around her laughed at the question.

“It's different,” Agatha assured, “we’re supposed to prepare you. It is tradition.”

There was that word again. Tradition.

“And,” added Sylvie, “You’re not our mother.”