It took weeks from when they departed the Maysian island for The Scarlet Wind to again catch sight of the shore. They stopped at ports along the way to their destination, trading away some of the pelts when Yander and Augustus thought the price was fair. Despite his best effort, the turtles that they caught had been quickly eaten once everyone realized how delicious they were.

“I wanted to present them as a gift,” lamented Augustus as he ate dinner in the Captain’s quarters.

“For your bride to be? It would have been a wonderful gesture, yes, but completely unnecessary,” said Castor. “You are her better. You need not do anything except what was agreed upon. They would probably even be willing to overlook it if we neglected a thing or two.”

“I would like to start this marriage on good terms, if possible.”

“Yes, a good relationship with your wife can have a dramatic influence on your day-to-day quality of life,” said Yander.

“I agree. What I meant was that such trivial things won’t have a large effect on that. Their family isn’t the type to fuss over the gift of an exotic animal to be cooked for dinner. It wouldn’t make them any happier than they already are.”

Castor had met Augustus’ bride-to-be, which gave him an air of authority when it came to her and her family’s personality. However, his expertise was lacking. He would only visit the farming towns along the coast during harvest season when he would weigh the grain and negotiate the purchase price. One of those towns was Jorland, a coastal fiefdom. Almost five years earlier, he had personally arranged Augustus’ marriage to the daughter of the count under his father’s orders, while he attended the harvest festival.

“Castor, you talk as if you know her intimately but how many days have you even spent in her presence?” Asked Augustus with a grin.

The smile on Castor’s face vanished as he contemplated the question. “I’d say a total of twelve days. Two or three each year since the marriage was arranged.”

Castor was always one to honestly contemplate and answer any question asked of him, no matter if it was meant as a joke or if it involved some absurd scenario. He would always give a thoughtful answer to the best of his ability.

Augustus remembered, back when he was very young, asking him, “What would happen if all the members of the Senate were on a ship, and then the ship sank and they all died?” He asked it after a lesson about the Senate and, like a curious child, he asked about an absurd scenario.

Nevertheless, Castor sat and thought about it before answering. “I believe the Imperator would be given temporary dictatorial powers until a new Senate could be elected. Elections would have to be held immediately, as the magistrates and the heads of the great families would demand it. Effectively, the Imperator, although having dictatorial powers, would have extremely limited actions because of how precariously everyone with influence would view the situation.”

“So, with twelve whole days of experience, you must know her quite intimately.” Augustus’ grin broke into a chuckle.

Castor chuckled back. “I’m a very good judge of character. Twelve days is plenty. You’re telling me you don’t know her intimately from all the letters you two have exchanged?”

“You mean the six letters? Even if six letters were enough to get to know someone, those letters in particular were useless. I can tell her letters were curated before they were sent, the same as my letters to her. They amounted to nothing but pleasantries.”

“Are you nervous?” Asked Heratio after swallowing a mouthful of meat. “It’s alright to be nervous. After all, there is the consummation after the marriage to worry about. You’ll be fine though, you’re a stallion.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll be fine, even though the consummation after a marriage is a daunting event.” Now Castor was the one with a mischievous grin. “Master Augustus, you have laid with a woman before, correct? Heratio, you must’ve taken him to one of those brothels at some point, right?”

“I must go where the Master tells me to go.”

All four at the table, including Augustus, laughed.

“That’s enough laughing at my expense though. It is a poor Master who allows those beneath him to mock him so openly. The next joke will result in lashings.” Augustus smiled, hoping for it to be enough for those words to feel gentle.

The dinner’s conversation then turned to business. Into the night they discussed how to maximize the profits from the expedition and how it already fared. The pelts had been selling well since the tanners of each port they stopped at were eager to practice their craft on something new.

They arrived at the port of Jorland in the early morning the next day with the light of day still dim. Augustus bathed himself and made sure to groom his hair with more effort than usual, then dressed in his formal clothing with the fine stitching he wore when he wanted to make a good impression. After he was adequately prepared, he went above deck to behold the port of Jorland that he had taken a keen interest in. Still a small port, parts were under construction with new piers being built and warehouses being expanded. A large pole boldly displayed the Castellian flag, showing its ownership. His family had invested a not-so-small amount of resources into it, sending craftsmen and materials, in the hopes of future profits. It was a plan that would take years to come to fruition, the type of plan that was typical of dynastic trade families. One must plant the trees so that future generations can find refuge in their shade.

“A messenger has been sent,” said Yander immediately upon seeing Augustus.

“You look very becoming, Master Augustus,” said Castor with a proud smile. “Although, I think it would be best if we waited at the port for some time before heading to the count’s estate. Arriving so suddenly as an honoured guest can be quite rude.”

Augustus had expected as much. They tried to send a letter to the count from one of the ports they stopped at, hoping to inform him of their impending arrival, but they must have outpaced the letter, arriving before it did.

“I thank you for the compliment. It is, after all, my responsibility to represent the Castellians with as much grace and charm as possible.”

“Very good,” said Castor, nodding. “I had no doubt that would be the main and only reason you made such an effort to get yourself so prim and proper today.”

“I don’t believe I’ve made more effort than when we arrived at the island.”

Heratio laughed from beside him. He was dressed in his usual leather armour but underneath his clothing was much cleaner and nicer than usual. He had also dressed himself up today. “But, Master Augustus, that time you didn’t have that smirk on your face. I can see it, though you may try to hide it.”

“You two have been relentless since last night. Didn’t I tell you there would be lashings?”

“Come now, Master Augustus, this is my ship. I’m the only one who can order lashings aboard it unless they have broken some law. Which they haven’t, have they? Besides, teasing a man before his wedding is a time-honoured tradition, practically decreed by the gods themselves,” said Yander with a stern look.

Augustus couldn’t help but chuckle. The threats of lashing were a joke, a looming threat he issued to Castor and Heratio for years that never came to fruition. Augustus laughed now because Yander seemed to take it seriously enough to issue a warning to him. It made sense it would consider it a real threat since a young master, such as himself, actually imposing that punishment wasn’t incredibly unusual. Especially after witnessing him dispatch Captain Marcus on the island, it would be reasonable to assume Augustus punished his attendants physically regularly.

“Captain Yander, I apologize for my careless words. I didn’t mean to undermine your authority on your ship. You have a lot to take care of, don’t you?”

“Yes, I hope to restock some food for our last leg back to Venocia and, hopefully, sell some pelts.”

“Then my two attendants and I will get out of your way. Castor, how about a tour of the port while we wait to head up to the estate?”

“Certainly, Master Augustus.”

“Yes, enjoy your tour. When you are done a wagon will be ready to take you to Count Jorland’s estate, loaded up with everything you’ll need for the ceremony.” With a wave, Captain Yander sent the three away.

Castor led the way down the gangway to the pier. The port itself was self-explanatory to Augustus, he understood how it worked and the various buildings. Offices for tracking the goods that were loaded and unloaded, storage facilities, worker’s buildings where the labourers could rest and even sleep through the night, and a place to exchange coins. It was standard fare and common knowledge to anyone in his family. What Augustus had been curious about was the village that was being built up near the port.

They walked through the port without stopping, Augustus just nodding at the workers who would stare at him and his elegant robe of bright yellows and reds. They knew who he was, even if they had never met, having been told to expect his arrival someday. Knowing who he was, they also knew not to speak to him without permission or being addressed by him first. Once past the ports, the people working there weren’t in the Castellian employ. They stared at him, not with reverence but with curiosity.

“As you can see, craftsmen already gather,” said Castor, gesturing over to a row of stalls with signs hanging above. There was a picture of an anvil on one, a loaf of bread on another, and a spindle of thread and a needle on a third. “Before your family invested in the port, none of these stalls existed. They come here to buy trade goods in bulk, whenever a good opportunity arises, to wright into something of greater value and, in turn, sell to either the people of Jorland or some other passing ship.”

“How busy has the port been? Have the independent vessels started to divert here?”

“That will take time. The road is newly built, and merchants prefer what they know, choosing guaranteed profits whenever they can. Word will spread that this port has a lower port fee and that the distance is shorter to Dunlowe. The only thing that will be attracting people elsewhere is the lack of diverse trade here, at the port proper that is, but that is slowly being remedied. Over time, if an option is available that allows for greater profit, the merchant vessels will eventually take it.”

“And once the port is bustling with activity, with robust trade that attracts all the ships, we raise the port fee.”

“That hardly even needs to be said. We are already negotiating with the mining companies in Dunlowe to divert to our port. Unfortunately, there are contracts and business relationships that stand in our way. It’s a war of attrition that will surely end in our favour.”

“Have we not offered to waive their port fee for a period of time?”

“Not yet. We will when the time is right. Waiving the port fee would represent a considerable loss for us. After all, we still need to pay the port workers. Sure, it would accelerate our plans but it wouldn’t be worth it. It would fill the port, yes, but not leave room for the independent vessels to come and pay their fee. Once this port is busier and larger we will. Then we will be better able to swallow the costs and reap the benefits.”

After walking up and down the cobblestone road in the center of the port village they decided to not explore further. They didn’t want to walk the back roads, not that it was particularly dangerous but because Augustus worried about his shoes getting too dirty. So they stopped and sat on a bench to watch the stalls and shops set up and the people walk around the area.

Augustus knew he wasn’t being inconspicuous, not in his current outfit. The people on the road all glanced at him as he watched them go about their morning work. But he pushed any feelings of shyness to the side, for he knew shyness was not a great quality for the head of a merchant family. He needed to be bold and headstrong, make decisions with confidence and hold firm in the face of doubt. He needed to be more like his father.

He had never left the city of Venocia before the expedition and even on the voyage Captain Yander wouldn’t let him wander whenever they stopped in a port, especially if the port belonged to a rival family. Now that they were finally in Jorland, a port the Castellians owned and a fiefdom that was now heavily intertwined with the Castellian family, could everyone let their guard down and allow him to venture a little. That was why he was so entertained by just watching the crowd move around, looking at their clothing, and watching their interactions. The style of clothing was different and he couldn’t put his finger on it but the interactions seemed different from those he had seen in Venocia.

“There’s something about the way they are talking that seems so different.”

“Yes. They aren’t haggling. In a small town like this where everyone knows each other and has to make multiple deals with the same people, negotiations end up being quick and easy. In Venocia, you could always go down the street and trade with some other store so each side has to do the merchant’s dance so that it isn’t how the customer would fare going somewhere else.”

It was probably obvious to a citizen of Venocia with lower status than himself but since he never had to haggle before, always sending out servants to the market to make purchases in his place, he didn’t notice it right away. “It’s a strange thing to realize how skewed your view of the world can be. I’ve barely set foot outside of Venocia and yet, when I return to the city, I will be held out by my father as a great explorer. The discoverer of the Maysian trade route.”

“You are still young. It is not unusual for there to be many things you haven’t experienced,” said Castor, placing his hand on his student’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to The Scarlet Wind, we’ve passed enough time with this. Count Jorland, I’m sure, will be ready for our arrival.”

“Very well, if we must get on with this.”

Augustus stood up and walked back to the dock at a slower than usual pace. When they got back the wagon was ready. They all boarded. Some of the crew of The Scarlet Wind came along as well since their labour would be needed to unload the wagon at the destination. One of the crew pulled on the reins and the horse pulling the wagon started forward along the cobblestone road that quickly turned into a well-dug dirt road, making for a bumpy ride.

Augustus watched as the buildings of the port town surrounding him disappeared, replaced by fields of crops. There were still houses, but they were infrequently placed. Fields were separated, not by fences, but by lines of trees, or just a ditch. Past the fields, slightly faded in the distance, was the tree line of the forest, far enough away that it didn’t rise up from the horizon much. The flat land and open area around the road made the sky feel much larger and more encompassing than it would in Venocia with its mountains and tall buildings. The sky felt almost as it did when he was on the deck of The Scarlet Wind in the middle of the ocean.

After some time on the road, they reached the main village of the fiefdom. They passed through houses of wood and thatch until they came to a much larger house made with stone and wood. The building was clearly better made than the surrounding houses, with skilled craftsmanship and quality materials, but in Venocia it wouldn’t be that impressive at all, other than its imposing size.

The loud sound of the wagon’s wheels against the ground and the squeaking of the axle alerted the servants of their presence before the wagon even came to a full stop. One of them exited the front door and greeted them. “Welcome, welcome!” Said what looked like Count Jorland’s servant.

When the wagon came to a stop and Augustus departed, the servant looked Augustus over. “You must be Augustus DeCastellian. Such fine clothing you have on.”

“Allow me to give a proper introduction,” said Castor with a slight grimace. The servant had spoken out of turn, politeness would dictate that he allow for proper introduction to take place before starting a conversation. “I present Augustus DeCastellian, third son of Giovanni DeCastellian. Augustus, this is Count Anthony Jorland, lord of this fiefdom.”

“It is an honour to finally meet you, Count Jorland,” said Augustus solemnly. Augustus wanted to retort that his clothing wasn’t all that fine, given his station, but only seemed so in comparison to Count Jorland’s rather plain outfit, but he held his tongue. He wore simple colours, without any embroidery. On top of that, he had a muscular build similar to Heratio’s, indicating he spent his days doing some sort of manual work. All worked to give Augustus the wrong impression of him, initially. “I wanted to look my best to demonstrate my family’s respect for you and your family.”

“Likewise, it is an honour to finally meet you. It’ll be interesting to see how you live up to what Castor has told me about you. He’s said you’re quite the bright young man.”

“I’m sure my servant has painted an idealized picture of me in your mind. After all, that is a portion of his duties,” said Augustus with a smile, trying to start things off with a small joke. Count Jorland, however, seemed displeased by that statement.

“I assure you, Count Jorland, that everything I’ve said has been truthful. My Master meant to make a joke.”

“Oh, I see. That’s fine,” said Count Jorland. He turned around and headed into the building. “Come right in when your things are together.”

“He doesn’t have much of a sense of humour, I suppose,” said Augustus.

“It’s not that. Out here, a man’s word is his bond. To suggest a man has lied is to question his honour. It is taken more seriously here than it would be in Venocia. The problem was you made a joke about my honour, which isn’t received well here.”

Augustus entered, followed by the men who carried his large wooden chests. A lady approached, she was older than his bride-to-be, so he immediately eliminated that possibility. Augustus made sure to not presume her standing and waited for Castor to do the introductions.

“I present Augustus DeCastellian, third son of Giovanni DeCastellian. Master Augustus, this is Cecilia Jorland, lady of the house and wife to the count.”

“Greetings Augustus, and welcome to our humble home.”

“I am just grateful to be so warmly received,” said Augustus. He thought better of lying and saying something about how beautiful their home was to be polite, considering Castor had just warned him of their views on lying.

Cecilia had grey hair and was plump but Augustus could tell from her face she used to be quite beautiful. She wore nicer clothing than her husband, themed with the colour green. She had likely chosen her finest outfit for the occasion, as was to be expected of her.

“We have prepared a room for you to relax in until the ceremony tonight. We know you’ve been at sea for quite some time.”

“Thank you, but I was wondering if… Nevermind. We will rest our weary sea legs.”

“Did you want to talk to Marielle first?”

“I was thinking that... yes. But it’s fine if it’s a problem. I have heard your people have rules about when the groom can see the bride.”

“It’s not a problem. We already have a room set up for that purpose. Come this way.”

She took him by the hand and led him forward, through hallways with barren walls, to a room that also had empty walls. In the middle of the room hung a curtain, made of material thick enough to be opaque. There were many chairs in the room and not much else. They must not have the coin to properly decorate their home, thought Augustus. Normally, in the estates that Augustus visited in Venocia, the walls were busy with paintings and ornaments, even intricately woven linens would be hung to cover parts of the empty walls. Then again, the homes in Venocia were smaller than the count’s estate.

“Sit closely to the curtain. Do not try to peek past it,” she said, letting go of his hand. Then quickly left without waiting for a response.

With his hand released, he began to think about how strange it was for her to so casually grab his hand like that. Especially because she was a woman and, to him, she was a stranger. Well, not such a stranger after all, once the ceremony is completed she would be his mother. Still, even his mother in Venocia wouldn’t have been so bold as to lead him by the hand.

He looked to his side to see his two attendants near him, having followed without a problem. “Castor and Heratio, stay standing by the door.”

He approached the curtain slowly then sat down at the closest chair to the window. He listened, but couldn’t hear anything beyond the curtain.

He cleared his throat, then began to speak. “Greetings... This is Augustus, DeCastellian… It’s so great to finally get to talk to you.”

He couldn’t help but smile at his own words but there was no response, only silence.

“Are you there? Are you just shy? That’s normal, I’m feeling a bit jittery too, to be honest. But, we must always try–”

He heard the door open on the other side of the curtain and the voice of Cecilia saying, “He should be sitting there, just on the other side of the curtain.”

The door closed and he could hear soft footsteps approaching, then the creak of the chair against the wooden floor as someone sat down.

“Greetings. Is this Augustus?” The voice said.

“Yes, it is. Are you Marielle? – Sorry, of course, you would have to be.”

“Yes, I am Marielle. It’s been a long time that I’ve anticipated this day when we would finally meet.”

“The same for me… I hope–”

“Thank you for the dresses. Sorry, you were about to say something.” He had gifted two dresses to his bride-to-be earlier that year. The reason it was gifted so early was that seamstresses would need to make adjustments so that everything would fit properly, which took time. She would need to wear them once she arrived in Venocia, as her wearing clothing unbecoming of her new standing as a member of the Castellian family would reflect poorly on Augustus.

“No-no. Have the adjustments been completed?” Augustus put his hand on his leg to stop it from shaking. He didn’t want her to feel those vibrations or hear something odd from the other side of the curtain.

“Yes, it now fits beautifully. You’ll see tonight, I’ll be wearing it for the ceremony.”

“Isn’t it the wrong colours? Shouldn’t you be wearing that shade of green, your family’s colour?”

“Tradition would dictate that. But since nothing else I own is nearly as well made as the dresses you gave me, we feared it would be an odd look for me to be standing next to you and your beautifully decorated robe in such plain clothing. I’ll wear the turquoise and white dress, so as not to wear your family’s colours, in honour of the god that watches over the city that I’ll be living in.”

“We are being wed today under the god Cyril, correct?”

“I must just hope he is not offended. For his colour is a light blue like the sky, and I’ll be wearing turquoise and white, which is quite similar.”

“The sky and sea reflect each other, it is a sight to behold when you are out on the open sea on a cloudless day, to be so surrounded by shades of blue.”

“Yes…” she said and paused. Up until then, she had seemed so comfortable in their meeting, something that Augustus was struggling with. He had thought they would be in a similar condition, both nervous and shy, but she seemed fine.

But in this pause, he thought, maybe she had just been good at controlling herself, good at pushing past her comfort zone and doing what she needed to do to fulfill her duty. That was a very admirable trait, a far better one than simply being unaware of how unusual and uncomfortable a situation was.

“Earlier,” said Augustus as Marielle searched for the next thing to say. “I just wanted to say, I hope that we can learn to work together… I mean, I hope that we will have a good relationship where we can lean on each other when we need to.”

“That is my hope as well, I feel the same way.” Silence followed again.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he said, desperate to fill the empty silence. He felt the embarrassment of his words immediately and had to fight the urge to stand up and leave the room.

It took a while for Marielle to respond. “You say such kind words… And you have a kind voice.”

Although he couldn’t see her face, something about the way she talked made Augustus think she was smiling behind that curtain.