Years earlier, when Marielle was still unbetrothed, she sat on a stage overlooking all the commoners of her father’s fiefdom. She hadn’t expected the festival to be so lively, it was thanks, in part, to the instruments her father had purchased this year. Music played through the air as a band played from another stage. They had two brass instruments, a flute, and some drums. His father had hired one of them to come to teach a few of his subjects to play, and this was their debut performance. She listened to the melodic rhythm, and although she hadn’t much opportunity to listen to instrumental music being performed, she could tell that they were making small mistakes and weren’t perfectly in sync. The crowd though didn’t seem to care. They moved in unison wildly, rhythmically with the music, with big smiles on their faces. Marielle herself even began to hum the tune after a while.

This was the commoner’s celebration. Their opportunity to let loose after all the work they had done recently. Every year, the fields would need to be harvested. The commoners would go out into the fields with their sickles and toil for days, bundling up the wheat and loading it on carts for transport. Every able-bodied male commoner had to participate, and as a reward, the lord of the land would throw a festival. There were games, food and this year had music, all set up in a field that they had cleared just a few days earlier, to be viewed by the sky god Cyril, the god of the harvest.

There were two stages raised at each end of the festival. At one end the stage had the troupe playing their instruments and around it a sea of dancing commoners. On the other end of the field, was the stage with Count Anthony Jorland and his family, along with his honoured guests, eating on display. In the center of the field, between the two stages, were rows of tables where those who weren't inclined to dance were eating or sipping wine. The blue skies of the day were already a dark purple when the torches and candles on all the tables began to be set alight. To Marielle, it made a magical sight. The twilight sky, the candlelight, the music, and the commoners' clothing that had more colours than usual, all had her enamoured.

Marielle sat with her siblings. They were ordered by age, her two older brothers were the closest to their parents, then it was Marielle, then her younger sister, and finally her youngest brother. She also had an older sister Evelyn that was absent, having been married off to the son of another count a few fiefdoms over. All on the stage were dressed in the nicest clothes they had. For Marielle, she wore a hand-me-down from Evelyn, a green and blue frilly dress that was just a little too big for her size.

To the other side of her parents were the guests. There was a pair of visiting nobles and a delegate from a trading company. She knew the nobles, they had visited multiple times, usually around the harvest festival, and she knew her parents thought of them as great friends. The delegate she didn't know. He was an old man with grey hair surrounding a bald head. He dressed in a white simple robe but it was clean and of finer woven linen than any commoner would have.

Marielle's older brother Francis, who sat next to her, gave her a nudge. He pointed at the delegate. "Father says we need to be especially polite to that man. And he told me he wants you to introduce yourself once you are done eating."

Marielle scrunched her face. "You're making that up." If her father had wanted her to introduce herself to the old man, he would have asked her to do it himself.

"No, I'm not. You can ask father yourself." Francis said in his whiny voice.

“Then why didn’t he just ask me to do it? Why tell you?”

“He’s busy. When he said it to me, he was looking for you, but he couldn’t find you. I guess he didn’t want to come ask you to do it while we’re on the stage.”

"Fine, I'll introduce myself when I'm done eating," she said, making a mental note to start eating as slowly as possible.

After noticing how slow Marielle ate, Francis nudged her again. "I'm serious! You gotta do it! We have to do what father says." His voice had managed to get even more annoying somehow. Then he started muttering under his breath, “I’m gonna get in trouble because you can’t follow some orders.”

"Fine!" Marielle said, putting down her fork. She took a deep breath and launched herself up from her chair. Making sure to keep her posture straight and proper, she began taking graceful steps forward, or as graceful as she could muster, until she stood in front of the trade company delegate.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Marielle Jorland, daughter of Anthony Jorland, who is the lord of these lands," she said while sticking out her hand. He politely accepted the offer of a handshake.

"It is so nice to meet you. I am Castor Wainwright and I’m here as a representative of the Castellian family." He smiled warmly, as they broke the handshake. "Excuse me for asking such a rude question to a lady such as yourself, but how old are you?"

"I'm twelve years old. And might I ask how old you are?" She must have said something weird because the man sitting beside Castor, her father's friend, almost choked on his wine. But she had only followed the advice she had been given, that when making small talk if someone asks you a question, you should ask the same question back after giving your response.

"Would you believe it if I said that I'm so old that I've lost count?” He paused.

“If you said it, I’d believe you.” It was unthinkable to her that someone would risk their reputation over something so trivial.

“Well, unfortunately, I haven’t lost count. I'm fifty-seven years old." Castor had a little chuckle to himself. "But, twelve years old. That's a mighty fine age. You must have learned a lot of things by now right? Can you read and write?"

"Yes, I've been able to read since I was ten! And I can add numbers too."

Castor abruptly stuck out his hand to grab hold of her jaw. "Let's get a good look at you." He said while examining her features. She had blonde hair and green eyes and by all accounts a pretty face. Marielle squirmed away. Castor let go and a very deliberate smile. "Well, it was certainly nice to meet you. You are a lovely young lady."

"Same to you," said Marielle with a smile, happy to be done with the chat. She gave him a slight bow then retreated to where she was sitting.

"How'd it go?" Francis asked.

"Alright, I guess. It's over, that's what truly matters," Marielle said, leaning back in her chair.

Now that the task Francis was responsible for had been completed, his interest in Marielle waned. He instead concentrated on eating more food. Marielle concentrated on finishing her plate too. She looked over to her father, who was having a merry conversation with Castor, both liberally drinking their wine. Then they both looked over at Marielle, catching her gaze, and smiled. She turned away, embarrassed to have been caught watching them.

After the children finished their dinners, all of them, except Marielle's oldest brother Garett, were escorted off the stage. The festival would continue late into the night but it was no place for the younger children. They exited the stage, guided by one of their family's servants, and board a wagon that waited, with the horses Bella and Betsy, ready to pull them. It went down the bumpy dirt road, passing through the huge empty field that had just been harvested until it reached their home, the Jorland estate.

“Thank you, Bella! Thank you, Betsy!” Said Wilmer, Marielle’s younger brother, while waving his arm at the two horses.

They all disembarked the wagon and went into their home, while the servant put away the horses. They switched from their muddy leather boots to their indoor shoes and went to the parlour to play games. There was the board and pieces for playing stixis but none of them knew the rules, so instead, they played cards.

After some time their parents came home with their brother. With them was Castor and someone that looked like Castor’s assistant. "Alright, all of you off to bed," Marielle's father ordered. The children got up and did as they were told, heading off to bed.

In the morning, after breakfast, a servant told Marielle to meet her father in the reception room. It was a large and well-decorated room, specifically to be used when guests arrived. Paintings hung on every wall. On one side the doors on the windows were open letting in the sunlight, on the other there were bookcases, acting as a display of wealth. The floor had a nice rug, over which were a grouping of comfy chairs facing each other, next to an ornate fireplace.

She entered the room and saw her parents sitting there with Castor and who she had assumed was Castor's assistant, a muscular young man with olive skin. "Ah, Marielle, have a seat," her father, Count Anthony Jorland said.

Her heart skipped a beat. She fought the urge to turn around and run. Instead, she moved forward and into an open chair. Her mother Cecilia smiled in delight at her, which helped alleviate Marielle's anxiousness. "Marielle. We have fantastic news for you!" It was clear Marielle's mother had gotten ahead of herself as her father gave her an annoyed look.

"Yes, it's like your mother said. Good news." Her father didn't seem nearly as happy as her mother, with just a begrudging smile. "We have arranged your marriage."

A bolt of panic ran through Marielle as she looked at Castor. He was too old, she thought to herself. She expected an arrangement to be made soon, but she couldn’t fathom that her parents would agree to give her away to this old geezer. Castor must have seen the panic on Marielle’s face because he just laughed and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not your betrothed.”

“But you don’t need to look so relieved either,” he said, still laughing. “And it’s not this guy either.” Castor gestured to who she thought was his assistant.

“So he’s not here?” Marielle asked.

“No, he’s in Venocia. And don’t worry, unlike me, he’s only a year older than you,” said Castor.

“You are going to be marrying into the Castellian family. To Augustus DeCastellian,” Count Jorland said, getting straight to the point. “He is the third child of the current head of the family. This is a very fortunate pairing for you.”

“Such a fortunate pairing! Exactly right. They are a powerful family in Venocia,” her mother beamed.

Castor nodded in agreement. “You will be entering a very wealthy family. You’ll have riches as you’ve never seen before. For now, though, you’ll stay with your family until you turn sixteen, then we will have the actual union. Until then, even though you’ll be staying with your family, we will be taking over your education. Once I return to Venocia I will send a tutor to stay here with you and your family. She will have much greater expectations of you than your current tutors. And she will focus your studies towards accounting and Venocian law, which will help you greatly in your new life.”

“Now Marielle, do you have any questions for us?” Count Jorland asked.

She thought for a bit then asked, "What’s Venocia like?”

"Venocia… Hm, what cities have you been to?" Castor responded.

"I've been to Honland. Is it as big as Honland?" Marielle remembered visiting Honland some years ago and being amazed at how many people lived there. It had street after street of stone houses and a castle where the duke, the one her father served, lived.

The assistant chuckled and Castor gave him a disapproving look. "Yes, Venocia is bigger than Honland. Honland is a duchy since it’s home to a duke. But the duke there serves a king that resides in Dunlowe. Dunlowe is many times bigger than Honland, and Venocia is even bigger and more populous than Dunlowe." Castor paused and looked up at the ceiling as he contemplated how he should phrase what he wanted to say. "So many people live in Venocia we have to bring in food from all over the world just to keep the citizens fed. That’s actually why I come to visit you and your father each year, to buy the food to feed the people of Venocia. Is there anything else you want to know? I’m completely willing to answer anything you want to ask.”

“Why would a city want to get that big? Isn’t it bad that you can’t grow your own food?”

“It is a problem for a city to need to import their food. It leaves them vulnerable in certain ways. If a foreign power were able to stop grain from flowing into the city there can be dire consequences. But, there are certain benefits to having such a large city. The concentration of expertise of craftsmen in the city allows for industries that can’t be replicated elsewhere. There are a variety of goods that our city sells that are unique, and as a result, carry a hefty price. So, in the end, it’s a trade-off.”

“I see,” she said, not fully understanding everything Castor said. “Um... What is Aug… I’m sorry, I’ve already forgotten his name. What’s his name again? And, what is he like?”

Augustus DeCastellian,” said Castor slowly, Marielle repeated the name in her head a few times. “I’m one of his tutors and I must say he is an especially bright boy. He’s a shy, quiet boy. Always reading a book or playing a game of stixis, always trying to learn. He tries so hard to prove himself to his father, to show he’ll be a valuable member of the family. I’m sure he will achieve great things.”

“You seem very proud of your student,” her father said with a smile. “Marielle, is there anything else you would like to ask Castor?”

“Nothing I can think of right now.”

“Alright, then you can go,” Count Jorland said, dismissing her.

She quickly walked away from the meeting room, climbing the stairs to enter her room and then shutting the door behind her. She walked once around the room then focused on a chest in front of her bed. Marielle opened it and ruffled through her belongings until she found a toy doll that had been passed down from her sister Evelyn. It was a simple toy, made of sanded-down wood sticks and a few nails, dressed with scraps of linen. Marielle started to play with the doll as she used to when she was younger than her younger brother Wilmer’s age. But she stopped when her eyes got watery and her nose got stuffed. After she wiped her face she crawled into bed to cry into her pillow.

By lunch, she had composed herself and was certain her eyes weren't red anymore. She first took a deep breath to prepare herself, then went downstairs to eat with the family. They were all already gathered, except for her father. The lunch was freshly baked bread, a meaty soup, and mashed potatoes. They made sure to pray to Cyril in thanks first, then dug in.

"We've arranged Marielle's marriage." Cecilia abruptly announced. "Everyone should congratulate her."

"Congratulations." They all managed to say without much enthusiasm.

"Who's the lucky man?" Asked Garett with a wry smile.

"She will be marrying Augustus, of the Castellian family!" Said her mother with glee.

"Oh, they own the port right?" Said Garett, surprised.

“Yes,” responded Marielle. “They are a very wealthy family. I am to be quite thankful.” She said the words without joy. She simply stated dry facts.

"So how was father able to place Marielle that well?" Garett seemed genuinely confused.

"What do you mean by that?" Marielle said.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just odd, isn’t it? Although we aren’t commoners, we aren’t of very high standing. To me, it seems like a bad arrangement on their end.”

“How to explain it,” pondered their mother, Cecilia. “It’s a deal that will benefit both our family and theirs. Every year a larger and larger portion of our income is coming from that port. The Castellian family, noticing this, offered to make an investment. They wanted to fund the construction of a road from that port to the main road that goes to Dunlowe.” She had to pause and take a breath, ordering in her mind how exactly to explain the deal properly to her children.

Once she had finished organizing her thoughts, she continued. "See, there's another port that already has a road built but the duke there has a high tax on all the goods that go through that port. The Castellians said they would pay for the road in our county. But then they wouldn't pay taxes up until they recouped the price they paid to build the road. After that, we will collect port taxes again, but we will have an agreement that the taxes would stay low at one part in fifty. One part in one hundred go to our king, and one part in one hundred we get to keep. The expectations we have, and so do the Castellians, is that since the taxes will be low and the road shorter than the other road in the other duchy, we will underprice the competition. Then hopefully, the majority of trade to Dunlowe will be rerouted through our port. That would increase our family's income and influence. The marriage was used to seal the agreement.”

Garett nodded but stayed silent.

Cecelia put her forehead in her hand. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Yeah, I do! They are gonna pay to build a road so that they can pay lower taxes."

“I guess that’s more or less correct. But there’s more to it. You are the heir, Garrett, and this deal is incredibly important for the future of this fiefdom. You will need to understand it completely.”

“I said I get it.” Garrett looked over to Marielle. “Well, it sounds like you really lucked out.”

"Yeah, I guess so." Said Marielle while nodding. She was happy for Garett as his inheritance would be doing so well but she wasn't sure if she was happy for herself.

After lunch, Marielle went to the reception room to look through the books. One by one she looked through the books, skimming the contents and quickly moving on. The books unfortunately were not well organized. A book on accounts would be next to a religious text, and a book on the history of their family was next to a book cataloging different types of flowers. Finally, after a relentless search, she found a book that seemed to contain the information she desired, Travels of the Known World. She flipped through the book carefully until she found the passage on Venocia and carefully read it.

The passage was written in the form of a diary telling of the author’s visit to Venocia. It started with him arriving at the port and marvelling at the size of the city. He visited the markets, where he described the sheer quantity of goods. The city streets were paved with cobblestone and were always bustling with activity, filled with people, horse-drawn carriages, and shops selling homemade goods. The book seemed to focus on the food, the fine linens, and the architecture. From that Marielle could tell Venocia would hold little resemblance to her current home. She had four years until she would be thrust into a completely alien place, surrounded by strangers.

Later that day, when her father came home from his work, he asked to speak with Marielle in private. They sat across from each other, alone in the reception room.

“Marielle, I wanted to talk to you, because as I understand from what your mother has told me, that you were rather aloof during lunch.” Count Jorel said, tilting his head and peering right into Marielle’s eyes with a concerned look. “I understand. Sometimes, things happen and it just takes time to adjust to what’s changed. Yesterday, your life changed dramatically without much warning. Your mother keeps telling you that you should be happy, and yet you don’t feel that way, right? Marielle, how do you feel about all that’s happened?”

Count Jorel waited in silence for his daughter to muster up the courage to say what she felt. “I’m afraid,” she muttered.

“Yes, that’s to be expected.” The count nodded. “I’m not gonna say that you shouldn’t be afraid. In time you will become more used to it. When your grandfather died, I was afraid too. I became the count and there was so much to learn but over time I adjusted to my new responsibilities. You will also adjust. Time will calm your nerves.”

Marielle gave her father a tight hug and said, “Thank you, father.”

It had been almost four years and Marielle had already turned sixteen when word from the ports came. A message, along with a package, was dropped off at the port as a Castellian ship passed through.

When Count Jorland received the message he called the family together in the reception room and once they were all gathered, with Marielle in a seat of honour next to her father, Count Jorland got his daughter to read the letter aloud.

“Greetings Count Anthony Jorland, Lady Cecilia Jorland, and Dear Marielle Jorland. I, Augustus DeCastellian, write to you all from The Scarlet Wind. I have been ordered by my father on a voyage to distant new islands in the Maysian Ocean and when this letter is received I should be already on my way to that destination. I estimate the voyage there, the labours on these new shores, and the voyage back will take two and a half months. On our return from the isles, we shall arrive for the ceremony to join Marielle Jorland and myself in marriage. Enclosed are two dresses for Marielle. They were ordered to generous measurements, but the maker assures me that adjustments are possible. I’m afraid I must ask you to hire a seamstress to make the adjustments and I will gladly cover the cost. Count Jorland, I leave that in your capable hands, with my thanks. Finally, to Marielle, I look forward to the day we meet. Sincerely Augustus DeCastellian.” She finished with a smile, glad in part to not have stumbled on a single word.

“That was beautifully read,” said Garrett, impressed.

She had undergone a drastic transformation in her family’s eyes. At first barely able to read, now she could read almost any text out loud eloquently. She had even spent days helping with their account books and checking the work their scholars had performed.

“It is amazing what a Venocian tutor’s education can produce,” said her mother. She picked up the package and opened it with a smile. "Let's see the style. Oh my!" Cecilia gushed at their sight. Marielle could tell Cecilia was impressed.

Her father called over her tutor, Cressa, to look over the two dresses.

Cressa arrived quickly. "Excellent. I hope your seamstress won't ruin these, I'm sure she's never worked with material like this."

"Miss Cressa, do you know why Augustus sent these dresses?" Marielle asked.

"Well, the white one with the Castellian family crest is for when you meet with master Augustus' family. You will be expected to have a certain elegance when meeting with his family. The turquoise dress is for the marriage ceremony in Venocia that will take place at the temple of Aurelia. They are two dresses you will need at your disposal for your life in Venocia. For any time you have dinner with a family member of higher or equal status, or anytime you have to do something at the temple, as a sign of respect for the gods.”

Marielle looked over to her father. "I thought the marriage ceremony would be taking place here?"

"The marriage will take place here," said Count Jorland, nodding.

"Yes,” said Cressa. “There will be a ceremony here. You will do whatever it is you do here, then once you arrive in Venocia there will be another, proper, ceremony. As a representative of the Castellian family, it is tradition that you have a ceremony at the temple of Aurelia, and for that, you must wear respectable clothing. Else you would be forever looked down upon in Venocian high society."

Two and a half months passed, just as indicated in the letter, then another message came from the port telling them that her time with her family was coming to an end. In the morning, as everything was being prepared, she went around the house saying her goodbyes to her family. She embraced each of them in a long hug. Her father hugged her particularly tight, before sending her to go get properly dressed in clothing befitting the coming ceremony.

Her hair was being seen to by her personal servant Sara when her mother burst into the room.

“Your groom is here and would like to talk to you before the ceremony,” her mother said, grabbing her hand. “You can finish that up later, Sara.”

“But won’t the priest be here soon?” Asked Marielle.

“So?”

“Father said Sara is to stay in the far servant’s house whenever the priest of Cyril visits.”

“Oh yeah,” said her mother with a moment of realization. “Don’t worry, we will be quick. You’ll still have plenty of time to finish your hair before he arrives.”

Marielle relented and gave in to the tugging of her mother, following her through to the room that was set up for her and her soon-to-be husband to talk.

When she left the room, she was comforted in knowing that at least he wasn’t terrible. He seemed like a reasonable, albeit shy, person, who was genuine when he told her he wanted the two of them to work together toward common goals. Despite her sadness of leaving her family, a smile managed to cross her lips for a little while as they talked. It was a short talk, just saying enough to assuage fears. They would have plenty of opportunities to talk at length later. When it was over, she returned to Sara to finish her preparations. Sara retreated once it was done, as were the standing orders, well before the priest arrived for the dinner.

When he arrived the family exchanged polite greetings, except Count Jorland, who was predictably absent. The priest was a balding man with a wide waistline and was wearing the blue robe that Marielle had always seen him wear. She knew that the priest and her father hated each other but neither of them voiced their disdain for each other openly.

After the introductions, the priest of Cyril made sure to mention that Marielle shouldn't speak at all when her soon-to-be husband arrived. She wanted to say that she already knew the ceremony but bit her tongue and politely said, "I thank you for the reminder. May we all be blessed by Cyril." A veil of thick cloth was then placed over her face, with little holes cut out so that she could still see.

When Augustus and his two attendants arrived, Count Jorel miraculously appeared. Count Jorel was wearing the same clothing he would wear at the harvest festivals; a green tunic over a white shirt, and blue pants. It was his finest clothing.

The count led the introductions as the to-be-weds weren't allowed to speak. It was the first time Marielle had seen Augustus. He was wearing a red a yellow robe that was just as elegant as the dresses she had been gifted. Physically, he didn't match the image Marielle had of him. He wasn't as tall as she images, he was shorter than both of his attendants. But he was still taller than she was. He was slender with soft skin as if putting his privileged life on display. Thick curly brown hair that was kept clean and neat, no doubt meticulously. Through the introductions, he kept glancing at her, even though he couldn’t see her face, and would smile at her meekly.

As was traditional, each of the subjects of the ceremony, the bride and the groom, would have their primary attendant speak for them. For Marielle it was Cressa and, for Augustus, it was Castor, the old man that had arranged her marriage with her father. Castor was even older than before, the past four years hadn’t done him any favours. He was even more wrinkled with even thinner hair.

"Augustus is so happy to finally meet you. He would like you to know how beautiful he thinks you look, even without being able to see your face," said Castor, it was a rehearsed line. Augustus wasn't allowed to speak at all or signal anything to the person talking for him, so it was up to Castor to either say things that were already rehearsed or just say what he thought Augustus should say. The same went for Cressa.

"Lady Marielle is so pleased to hear you think that. She has long awaited this meeting, and would also like for me to convey how lovely she thinks Augustus looks. She gives her gracious thanks for the gifts of those two dresses."

“Augustus sees that you are wearing one of them. He thinks you wear it well. I should also add, Master Augustus thinks you would look lovely in any dress you care to wear but that you look particularly graceful this evening.”

The food started to come to the table, platter after platter of food that had been hastily prepared. They had kept several hogs in their garden in wait for the wedding to arrive and this morning, when they heard The Scarlett Wind had stopped in port, the hogs were butchered for the feast. Everyone would be expected to take from the central platters, but first, a ritual would need to be performed.

Heratio stood up and rolled up his sleeves up to his armpits. Castor acted as Augustus’ voice for the charm, "We thank you for welcoming us as guests to your home. Since you have been so overworked preparing this meal, please allow us the honour of serving you your first plate."

"That would be splendid," said Count Jorland, giving the expected response. “Please, if you are going to fill my plate, you might as well fill your own too."

Heratio smiled and picked up two empty plates. He set aside the plates and began filling them with each and every item available.

Each time he picked up a piece, Count Jorland would say, “That piece is much too big.” Heratio would then cut the piece in two, placing half on each plate. He then placed both plates in front of the Count. "I would also like some wine," the Count said when that part of the ritual was completed.

"Do you mind if we choose for you?” Asked Castor. “I promise we have great taste in wine, we will pick something appropriate to pair with that plate."

"That would be splendid,” said the Count. “And while you do that, you might as well pour a drink for yourself." Heratio then looked over the wine and reached out his hand as if to randomly pick a bottle, then poured the two glasses of wine and placed both of them in front of Count Jorland, along with the two plates. Count Jorland looked both plates and glasses over, then picked the plate and glass of wine of his choice. Leaving Heratio to take the leftover plate and wine over to Castor, placing it in front of him.

The Count would take a bite of each item on his plate, and immediately after, Castor would eat whatever the Count had just eaten. Then would Castor exclaim, “So delicious!”

Finally came the wine. The count drank, then Castor. But this time, it was Count Jorland who spoke. “This was an excellent wine choice, it pairs beautifully with the food.” With that the ritual was complete and everyone else at the table was free to fill their plates and eat their fill.

Once the majority of guests had empty plates, Castor spoke again. “Augustus would like us to complete the matter of the dowry before we start the religious part of the ceremony.” He left a pause. Her father, the count, stayed silent. “But first, Augustus and his father have heard how well the port here has been doing. No doubt because of your skill and leadership. As thanks, we would like to offer you a gift.”

Augustus, still silent, got up from his chair collected a small box from a chest. He walked over to her father and placed it down in front of him. Count Jorland opened the box and a smile crept onto his face.

“Augustus presents to you fifteen Venocian gold coins, he presents them for inspection and as a gift.”

A house servant went and got the scale and placed it in front of the count. First, he placed one coin on the scale, weighed against the coin standard. After seeing it balanced, he placed the coin that was weighed with the coin standard then weighed against two new coins. Then four, then eight.

“I thank you for your gift.” Count Jorland placed all the coins back into the box. “I present to you fifteen Venocian gold coins for inspection as a suitable dowry.” The count handed back the box he was just given and Castor went through the same process the count just performed.

“This is indeed a suitable dowry and my lord accepts,” Castor said, putting the box back where Augustus had taken it from in the place.

With the dinner eaten and dowry given, all things were set in place to begin the wedding ceremony. They all gathered in an empty room, with Marielle and Augustus together with the priest. She felt her heart pounding as they held each other’s hands while staring into each other’s eyes.

"Let us begin," began the priest. He took a blue ribbon out and tied their two hands, already clasped together, with a complicated knot that bound them in place together. Even if they tried to pull away from each other, they would be stuck to each other. “May the god of the sky, the god of the harvest, Cyril, bless this union. May he recognize their devotion to each other and their offspring as their legitimate progeny. And may the two of you, in your union, respect him, pray to him, and offer up to him your loyalty.”

After that short speech, he untied the ribbon, releasing them from each other. But even still, their hands remained clasped together. “With that the ceremony is complete and you two are husband and wife.”

Without taking his eyes off her, Augustus used his free hand to lift her veil, finally revealing her face to him. He didn’t break his gaze. He was entranced, singularly focused on her. “You really are beautiful,” he said.

She felt her face become heated.

"We have already prepared a bed in the garden," said Count Jorland. "My witness will be Cressa."

"Giovanni DeCastellian has given his approval that I am to be his witness," said Castor.

"And finally, I, as a priest of Cyril, will act as his eyes and be his witness."

And so Augustus, Marielle, and all three witnesses went outside to the garden so that the marriage could be consummated in full view of Cyril, the sky god.