He carried her through the hall. It was dark, and other than one of Lethe's distant cries of anger careening off the walls, quiet. He had no idea if the guests were still enjoying themselves or if they'd gone to bed. He was very tired and had lost track of time completely.
"We aren't really married," he let her know. He stopped for a second and shifted her weight. "Because I didn't say the whole thing." And then in Albrecht he did actually say the whole thing, talking with an official sort of timbre which buzzed against the stone and his chest, pronouncing them man and wife.
"Although there was a witness, so..." He mounted a staircase and listened for anyone hidden away in an alcove. There was no telling where people would scamper off to during one of these parties.