[ inseparable. ]
The sun was shining far too bright, like it sought to burn Colin's skin from his face. What an odd day to shine so bright. Like it was mocking him. Stepping into the church almost burned as much, but the Holy Ghost held no true power over witches or else Amelia would be burnt to a crisp by now. Oh, she played her part well.
His siblings fell into step behind him, all silent as if they could feel the rage burning inside of him. They were good children, and the only upside to this unfortunate event was that they would now be well fed. "Don't speak to anyone." It was a warning, not an order. It was easy to tell they were different from how they spoke. They were out of time. Using archaic terms and outdated phrases, it would be easy to set them apart. He hears a chorus of 'yes, sire's behind him and smiles.
The church smells of burnt wax, and sweat. It was packed full of voyeurs, awaiting the spectacle. Soon, the baker would be married to the pariah. He nods at a few guests, finding their seats easily. They were the closest to the altar on Amelia's side of the church. Once his sibings are seated, he excuses himself to use the restroom. Only, he heads towards the dressing chambers instead. He doesn't knock, stepping inside and nodding for the maidens assisting his sister to leave. "Amelia."