Beef stew pops and sputters in its cauldron as it cooks over the fire. Metze stirs it in response, sure to dredge the bottom with the large spoon; she no longer has to worry about her father and knows the others are far more forgiving than he ever was, but there is no sense in burning the food. The fresh bread she had made cools on the marble countertop of the kitchen island—sourdough rolled in seeds by request of Hester; her birthday was coming up, and she did not feel right to decline such a small request. The table is set for eleven, with enough tea and wine for all. It was her turn to prepare dinner for the coven; between the blending scents and the warmth of the hearth, all feels homey, all feels safe, and she knows she did a great job.

  She checks the enormous wooden grandfather clock just outside the kitchen and decides the stew should be cooked by now. She rings a bell on the counter, and the others quickly flood in, some from the adjacent common room, some from the upstairs bedrooms, and finally Eue-Lysae from her third-floor suite.

  Shortly after everyone has gathered and food has been dished, Eue-Lysae clears her throat, silencing the chatter. “By the request of the queen, I will be officiating the wedding between Dyder Dornytter and Ilsenila Heren on the 17th of Enora, and you will all be joining me.” She pauses, pouring herself a glass of wine, filling the glass up to just below the rim, and places back down in front of her. You buy the wine with money subsidized from the queen, you should offer them some—don’t be greedy.

  Faey tears a small piece of bread from her bun and places it on the edge of her plate; despite being tempted to place two, she decides it does not matter at this point.

  Eue-Lysae drinks half of it before continuing. “Now, while I’m sure this was covered while you were handmaidens [1]; I do not believe that one can be properly educated on a topic purely from reading and theory; the practical aspect—especially in our craft—is extremely important. How many of you remember the steps and rituals necessary for properly performing a wedding?” She taps her thumb against the table as she swirls her glass. This should be your duty—to teach them how to perform weddings. I’ve tried to have this brought up with the Arch Priestesses, and they never do anything about it. She agrees with Luhnylla, as much as she doesn’t want to, it is her duty.

  Her coven looks around at one another rather meekly—most have forgotten; it has been nearly four years since most had been handmaidens, even longer since they were taught how to perform a wedding.

  “I figured as much, but this is not the fault of any of you or those who have taught you; it is mine. One of you will replace me at some point, and I would be a failure of a High Priestess if I were to be selfish enough to not properly teach you how officiate a wedding.” She finishes her glass and pours herself another. Her attention is drawn to the fidgeting Faey. “?ppolonia, what do you remember of The H?lbint Ritual [2]?” She hates to pick on her girls, but the sooner this is over with, the better.

  She responds quickly. “It’s the final ritual—if the father-of-the-bride chooses to not have the groom perform the linshkh trials. It involves the weaving of red string through the fingers of the clasped hands and around the entire hand of those to be married, followed by the burning of two candles on top until they’re completely melted around their hands.” She finishes her explanation, proud of her memory even if she had been instructed on how to perform a wedding less than a year ago. She pulls another chunk free and adds it to her pile.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Excellent; what if the rope burns and severs?” Eue-Lysae asks, her voice raising with a hint of excitement at the question. Stop that, you.

  F?y smiles, pleased that Eue-Lysae seems pleased with her answer. “The wedding is immediately called off as the bride and groom are deemed un-weddable by aela’Aineva [3]—”

  All the doors on the second-floor slam with a loud crack. Eue-Lysae rubs her temples.

  “Sorry.” Says Faey.

  “It’s fine; continue.” Responds Eue-Lysae, the loud noise had brought back her headache.

  “and the wedding is called off.” She finishes her answer meekly, picking at her stew with the crust of her bun.

  “Good. Tomorrow we will do a practice ritual; we will review chants in the morning, make both the rope and candles after lunch, and perform mock H?lbint Rituals prior to dinner.” She knows that none of the girls have interacted with a goddess other than Luhnylla, so meeting Aineva is probably best on an empty stomach.

  Gysel puts her spoon down and looks at Eue-Lysae. “If we are doing a ritual, that means two of us will be married in the eyes of the divine, won’t it?

  “That’s not up to me, I’m sure...” She pauses, thinking of the best way to address Aineva without causing any sort of unwanted havoc. “She will be more than understanding that this is just a mock ritual.”

  “So we will be meeting Her?” Ask Av?la. She’s heard rumors of the appearances of unbound deities but doubts their truthfulness; it’s hard for her to believe that the physical form of deities is constantly changing without being bound to a priestess, especially since she has spoken with Luhnylla when Eue-Lysae was not present.

  The coven nods in agreement; all were thinking the same question.

  “Most likely.” Eue-Lysae finishes her glass and begins eating.

  The chatter returns quickly, shifting from excitement for tomorrow to praise of Metze’s cooking and then to the wedding of Dyder and Ilsenila.

  At the first mention of his name, Eue-Lysae quickly and carelessly snatches the bottle, knocking it against the empty glass in her hand, and dropping the glass. The spectral hand of Luhnylla appears, grabbing it by the stem before it can hit the ground, placing it back on the table. Eue-Lysae says quiet thanks before filling her glass and placing the bottle back down.

  Faey takes her bread and pauses; Eue-Lysae’s behavior was different this time; she chalks it up to the wine—yet she still has a lingering question. Adding a fourth piece to her pile, she confiscates the bottle of wine, passing it down the table to Eved; Eue-Lysae groans, and a small chuckle shortly follows, coming from the open window, blowing in with the evening winds.

  Footnotes

  [1] The second-lowest ranking of the women and girls within the Order of the Three Moons. The age of handmaidens tends to span between 11 and 19. There are 30 per temple, allowing for three handmaidens to be assigned to each priestess for practical lessons three times a week; when they are not with their respective priestesses, they are taking part in classes under tutors or assisting in chores.

  [2] Originating with the tribes of the Grand Northern Forest, the H?lbint Ritual is a traditional wedding ritual where a red rope usually covered some sort of animal fat is first woven throughout the fingers of the bride, her hands are then place within the grooms and the same ropes is then woven throughout his fingers, the ropes are then tied around the wrists of those to be wedded. Two wax candles—commonly scented with the incense associated with the goddess of the high priestess performing the wedding—are then placed at the knuckles of the thumbs and lit.

  [3] The name of the Ianian goddess of marriage, love, and romance. She is traditionally depicted as a tall, slender woman. Her temple is located in S?gsetun. As of 1054EotG her High Priestess is Dorei Il?ena Eberezic (1029EoTG—Current)