Bal?, taking the brass bar handle, pulls the door to Alavel’s study open; Dyder enters. The natural sunlight fills the room, casting the shadow of Alavel’s high-backed chair across his desk and to the feet of Dyder. The walls are lined with well-stocked bookshelves, intermittently broken by portraits, two of which he can recognize as Ede and ?l?; he figures the rest are paternal relatives. He gathers a very homely feeling from the study, as the mix of bibliosmia and tobacco reminds him strongly of Herst Castle.

  “Hello, Dyder, what brings you here on such short notice?” Asks Alavel.

  “I am here to speak with you about your daughter, Ilsenila.” Dyder bows. It had been some time since he had last seen Alavel; if it were not for the greying at the base of the man’s beard, most would not assume he is quickly approaching fifty.

  “What of my daughter? take a seat, son.” Raising an eyebrow, Alavel gestures to the chair opposite him.

  “Yes, it is, though it’s rather odd, but still good—I will be the last man you will find complaining about it.” Dyder sits. “I have come to inform you that I will be paying the 350 gold dowry.”

  “Excellent! I’m glad to hear it!” He pauses, taking a drag on his cigarette. “But how is this rather odd?”

  “Gekaryna vela’Herst will be paying part of it.” Dyder runs his hands up and down his thighs, his palms warm from the friction with the wool.

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  “Why is that? I did figure this was a bit soon, even with the assistance of Romyll.”

  “She wouldn’t tell me, I asked, but she told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had conditions as well.”

  “And these conditions are?” Alavel runs his hand through his beard; he, being a frequent visitor to the Herst Court, has known ?nnywella since before she could walk, but something has seemed off about her since Athalric began to tutor her. While he is more traditional than most men, and, frankly, is not fond of the idea of a queen, he feels confident in her ability; he cannot quite put his finger on why.

  “She picks the dates and locations for the weddings—this being the College of the Third Moon, on the 17th of the 11th maiden, and the Temple here in Sc?dstan, on the 20th of the 11th maiden—and she gets to pick the cake.”

  Alavel snorts. “These are awfully trivial, don’t you think? This saves me the planning. I will write her and ask for more specifics; I’m curious about why she would have two weddings scheduled.”

  “Yes, it’s best for you to write her.”

  “Now for the dowry: I would rather the gold be brought on the 20th, as I do not wish to travel with such a sum; I will write your father.”

  “I think it would be best for you to ask Gekaryna vela’Herst when it comes to the paying of the dowry; I didn’t ask her the specifics, but I feel as though she will be covering the whole sum, and my father and I will be reimbursing her. I think it will be best to write my father on both subjects; I will be writing his as well, as I have yet to inform him of the marriage or the wedding.” Dyder pauses. “If you do not mind me asking, will I be doing the linshkh trials?”

  “Of course, I hope you are looking forward to it as much as I am.” Alavel responds with a chuckle. “We should inform ?l?.” He stands and summons Bal?.