Weddings are usually small affairs. It's difficult for people to travel to other towns, even if they have family there. Witches frequently invite themselves, and most have at least one villager who's too fond of them to complain- not that complaining would do a thing. Frank considers himself lucky that there are only two or three witches in attendance. They seem well-behaved, for witches. He's not concerned about them. He's concerned about Bryce.
She worries, he knows. He doesn't know exactly what she's worrying about at this moment, but it's a wedding; there are a few things to be worried about. Weavers tend to make proclamations. Witches come out of the woodwork. Their parents, of course, offer advice and opinions, entirely unasked. And of course, there's her recent attempt to walk the paths. So she didn't become a hearth, like she had expected to. His mother can offer all the pins that their children will need, and he knows Bryce's mother will offer. So what if he has just one pin? That's all he needs.
He finds his bride just before their wedding, closing his eyes so as not to catch sight of her in her dress. He knocks, gently.
"Bryce, are you alright?"