[PM to Join] To have and to hold. (Memory)

[Genevieve De Silver]

Achtus 8, 2711

In the countryside a few miles from Vienda stands the De Silver family estate. The house is old but well maintained, it stands alone in rolling park land dotted with trees. Closer to the house the park land becomes manicured lawns with topiary , though that Achtus it was all covered in a blanket of pristine white snow. A stone folly like a small temple stands in the gardens behind the house. A stables and carriage house is beside the house.

The houses interior is mostly dark oak panelling and rich wall hangings and plush carpets, on the ground floor there is a comfortable library and drawing room, a dining room, modest ballroom.

On the first floor is the master bedroom with is own bathroom, three guest bedrooms each well appointed and decorated and a large bathroom, with deep claw foot tub.

The top floor of the house is where the staffs quarters are and the basement of the house holds the kitchen, pantry and a well stocked wine cellar. There are hidden staircases used by the staff, so they can move between floors without bothering guests.

The staff are the housekeeper Mrs Rose Murphy and her family, Jack Banks her husband the gardener, Mary
Murphy her sister the cook, Beth her daughter the ladies maid and her son Ernest the valet.
Mrs Murphy and her family were over joyed to have people staying, as the house stood empty much of the time.

The happy couple had had run of the house for the last few days since their wedding, Jean De Silver was due to join them by the evening of the 8th.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711
The De Silver Manor, Outside Vienda

The heavy claw-footed tub had caught Uzoji’s imagination again early that evening, and Niccolette had not escaped him until her fingers were pruned and her stomach ached from too much laughter. The water had grown cool at some point, but the Bastian has not so much as noticed.

“Darling,” Niccolette was giggling, and she wrapped herself in the heavy men’s bathrobe without the slightest hesitation, even though it dragged on the (wet) floor, “Jean shall be here quite soon. We are to dress for dinner, you recall?”

“Yes,” Uzoji said, smiling. He rose from the water, slowly, and Niccolette watched. She bit her lip, then, and Uzoji grinned at her, stepping out of the heavy tub. He pulled on the lighter robe and left it hanging open, the faintest of stubble gleaming on his head.

Niccolette shifted, and tugged the bathrobe a little tighter around herself. “Stop that,” she scowled at her husband, and the word thrilled still in her veins, rushed through her and sparked a joy she could not quench deep inside. Her husband. The ring was strange and weighty on her finger still. Only occasionally it would start to become familiar, and every time she had to look to check that she still wore it, that these last few glorious days had been more than just a strange and delightful dream.

“Hmmm?” Uzoji asked, and his grin broadened.

Niccolette crossed her arms over her chest, the heavy soft fabric of the robe shifting against her skin. “You know what it is you are doing.”

Uzoji just grinned, leaning casually against the wall. “No, beloved, none of that. We have to get ready,” he said, and sighed.

Niccolette bit her lip, unable to scowl any longer, and closed the distance between them, swift and unhesitating.

In the end, it was a good while before Uzoji opened the door to the guest bedroom to admit Beth and Ernst. He grinned at the valet, and let the man take him back to the bathroom for a proper shave.

Niccolette sat in front of the vanity, wearing the ladies’ robe this time. She was brushing the tangles from her long dark hair, and she glanced up in the mirror at Beth as the wick entered the room. Her ramscott held bright and sharp in the air around her, and she flexed it ever so slightly at the brush of the wick’s glamour, almost reflexively, and the Bastian made the slightest of faces, but she did not stop her work on her hair.

“I shall wear the gold dress tonight,” Niccolette announced.

Niccolette rose, and shrugged off the robe, leaving it behind her on the floor. She made her way to the small chest on the dresser, and teased through it, fetching out the sapphire earrings and lying them out. She went to her chest next, and began the process of dressing herself, all lace and silk against her skin.

By the time Uzoji returned, head clean-shaven, Niccolette was sitting at the vanity, wrapping in a dressing gown over her underthings, Beth teasing her hair into place as Niccolette dabbed the brush into dark color for her lips.

“Beautiful,” Uzoji said, softly, pausing in the work of buttoning his shirt to watch her. He swallowed, hard. “Darling, you put the moon and stars to shame. You -“ his throat moved, and no words emerged, and Niccolette set the brush down hastily, because she could not keep from smiling.

“Apologies,” Uzoji said politely to Beth, and waited for her to shift out of the way. He knelt next to Niccolette, and she turned in her seat to look at him, smiling still. He took his hands in his, and kissed them, and then kissed the ring glittering golden on her finger, and looked up at her.

“I have not finished dressing, you know,” Niccolette said, clasping his hands.

Uzoji laughed, then, grinning at her. “How could I mistake it?” He rose up and kissed her, and Niccolette’s eyes fluttered shut for a long moment.

Niccolette was putting the finishing touches on her lips and eyes when Uzoji left the room, shrugging on his dinner jacket over the rest of his clothing. She heard him greet Ernst in the hall for final adjustments before the door shut behind him. No need for blush tonight, Niccolette thought, smiling, touching her fingers to the bright pink of her cheeks. She rose and turned to the wick, who was even now laying the gold dress out on the bed.

Uzoji made his way down the hallway and to the drawing room, still smiling to himself. He took a seat there, and waited for Jean, comfortable and easy, and with the broad grin that had lasted him three days so far, without the slightest hint of fading.

[Genevieve De Silver]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711

It was cold and the landscape glowed ethereal white under the moon as the carriage rolled through the gates of the De Silver estate. Genevieve smiled happily to herself as she rested in the warm interior of the carriage, she was truly happy for the young couple who even now were in her family home. Filling it with life and joy it had not felt in many years. The carriage pulled up in front of the broad steps and she climbed down and stood for a moment and looked at the merry warm light pouring from the windows and smiled. She was wearing a heavy wool greatcoat lined with black fur and a black wide brimmed hat. The double doors opened and Mrs Murphy and her husband bustled down to meet her.

"Mr De Silver sir it is truly a pleasure to see you."

Genevieve smiled warmly at her housekeeper and then looked to Jack, her gardener the old man returned the smile and bowed his head slightly, he was a man of few words.

"Hello Rose, hello Jack. It is lovely to be back. How are my guests?”

Rose happy careworn face blushed slightly and she gave a smile.

“Well sir, they have been enjoying the house and no mistake.”

Genevieve took her meeting and laughed, her breath foggy on the cold air.

"Well that is excellent news, Jack could you help Cadoc once he parks the carriage?”

Jack tugged the brim of his cap and said.

“Aye sir.”

Cadoc smiled and waved to his sister and brother inlaw from the coachman’s box where he was wrapped in heavy woolen coat, scarf and fur hat. Before flicking the rains, Jack jumped up onto the running step of carriage as it went off around the corner of the house.

“Mr and Mrs Ibutatu are in the drawing room Mr De Silver.”

Genevieve climbed the steps up into her family home taking off her hat, heavy coat, scarf and gloves handing them to Ernest as Rose bustled past after shutting the great doors behind them. Ernest smiled and bowed slightly, she smiled back and said. Mr and Mrs Ibutatu she thought to herself beaming, yes that did indeed sound delightful.

"Thank you Ernest you are looking well, the moustache suits you.”

Ernest smiled with pride, even though it was a wispy first attempt, the young man was proud nonetheless.

Under the heavy winter clothes she wore a Green velvet frock coat, black trousers, boots grey shirt and dark red silk waistcoat and matching cravat. She swept into the drawing room a broad smile on her face and she spread her arms wide in welcome as she saw Niccolette and Uzoji.

"My friends, it is an absolute delight to see you both.”

She nodded, still smiling.

"Yes indeed, marriage certainly suits you both. How are you both?”

Talk."

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711
The De Silver Manor, Outside Vienda

Niccolette examined herself in the mirror one last time, quite seriously. She adjusted the ripple of silk that tumbled from high on her throat down the front of the dress, smoothing it, and then making a little face and tugging lightly at the stripe of fabric, so it stood out a little more from the rest of the fabric. She turned, carefully, examining her silhouette, hands resting on her waist, and then nodded to Beth, dismissing her.

Niccolette sat on the large, comfortable bed for a long moment. She glanced down at the gold ring on her finger – smiled, both to see it and to think of the matching one on Uzoji’s hand. All the same she felt an odd sense of trepidation; the last few days had been like a dream, just her and Uzoji – as if no one else in the world existed. Niccolette squeezed her hands together a little tighter, and she could not seem to help still being afraid. Even Jean, though he had been nothing but supportive, felt oddly like an intrusion, and Niccolette could not help but feel that – that even Jean might turn out to be against them, might want to drive them apart.

The Bastian trembled on the bed, her hands coming tightly together in her lap. They had scarcely told anyone yet; Uzoji had wanted to send the letters to both their families immediately, and she had told him to wait. She had asked if they could have this honeymoon as a reprieve from the world outside, and these last few days had been so – had been everything she could have hoped for and more. Jean’s arrival, as glad as she was to see him, felt like the beginning of the end, a reminder that the world outside was moving on – that, in time, they would need to catch up.

If I cry, Niccolette thought, I shall have to fix my make-up.

The Bastian rose, swiftly, checked the fall of her earrings one last time in the vanity, and made her way down the hall without a single backwards glance.

“Darling,” Niccolette came up behind Uzoji and leaned forward, brushing his cheek with her lips. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and her breath caught in her chest – caught and held.

Uzoji grinned wider.

By the time Jean arrived, Niccolette was sitting in a chair of her own, and both of them were laughing; there were only a few feet of space between them, but Uzoji had extended his hand, casually, and Niccolette had tucked hers into it.

“Jean!” Niccolette said, smiling brightly. She squeezed Uzoji’s hand and rose, bowing to the other galdor. It was, as always, a delight to see the older galdor; she had known him scarcely a term, but she had already come to admire him greatly.

Uzoji was not even half a heartbeat behind, bowing as well. “Jean,” Uzoji said, smiling. "It's always good to see you, my friend."

Niccolette giggled at Jean’s question, and relaxed, some knot of tension she hadn’t been able to name easing in her chest. “Quite well,” she said, smiling a little wider, and glanced at Uzoji. He grinned back at her, and his hand rose to rest on the small of her back, his thumb finding the line of her spine through the layers of fabric.

“Yes,” Uzoji agreed, turning his attention back to the older galdor. “Thank you again for letting us stay here. It is a magnificent house.”

[Genevieve De Silver]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711

Genevieve took in the couple again and her heart swelled, though there was a touch of sadness there. Sadness that this was something she would never have. She pushed the thoughts and sadness down and gestured to the comfortable armchairs and sofas.

"Please sit, I want you to consider this your home as well."

She sat down in the old green leather armchair, it had been where her father would always sit.

"You are both most welcome, it is a joy to see this old place lit up with happiness. That and I imagine Mrs Murphy and her family are glad of their being people here as well."

The staff were of course well paid, but Genevieve still sometimes felt guilty for paying them to look after an empty shell of a place. She had hardly been here since her presents died. She wondered what they would think of her if they could see her now. Would they understand, would they accept her?

She pushed those thoughts down as well.

"So, have you had much chance to see the grounds much? Jack does an excellent job. Also the estate is beautiful if you've the desire to go riding."

She crossed one leg over the other and relaxed into the armchair and smiled.

"Sorry I am rambling. You both look stunning, I will certainly have to change for dinner."

She grinned, also she very much needed a drink. As comfortable as her carriage, she had been sat in it since just after day break. She would make sure to let Cadoc have the rest of the evening off. She dragged herself to her feet and walked over to the sideboard were a trio of decanters. She poured herself a glass of port and raised it high in a toast to the couple.

"To love and happiness."

Her smile was warm and broad and her eyes sparkled with joy for her friends. Then she drained half the glass in one go and let out a contented sigh.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711
The De Silver Manor, Outside Vienda

Jean sat, and Niccolette and Uzoji both followed suit, all three of them still smiling. Jean was as gracious as ever, but Niccolette felt – there was something ugly twisting in her chest, a miserable sort of feeling. She had thought she had banished it, upstairs, but it was there still, at home inside her. She glanced sideways at Uzoji, the barest flicker of her gaze; he was smiling at Jean, listening more attentively than she was, and she turned her focus back to the Gioran.

“To love and happiness,” Uzoji agreed, raising the glass of brandy he’d poured himself while waiting for Niccolette to come down. He took a small sip and passed it to Niccolette; his field gold-shifted, faintly, and Niccolette found that hers had as well, the mona in them twining gently together, a comfortable and familiar merging.

Niccolette grinned and took a sip of the brandy for herself, though as usual she found it a bit sweet for her taste. “And beauty,” the Bastian added, for there was no doubt in her mind that this was a marriage blessed by Hurte. How could it be otherwise?

“We went for a walk yesterday,” Uzoji said, returning to Jean’s first question. “There was quite a storm last night, though.”

“I quite like it,” Niccolette said, smiling, crossing her legs at the ankle. “It is lovely this time of year, when the snow begins. It is so white, here in the country!”

Uzoji laughed and gave an exaggerated shiver. “Niccolette has been telling me we should need to try ice skating,” he said.

“Yes!” Niccolette giggled. “You have quite a nice pond for it, I think? It seemed perhaps frozen but it is hard to tell, this early. Can you believe he has never gone? I suppose they do not, in Mugroba.”

“No,” Uzoji grinned wider. “We have sand skating, of course.”

“Sand skating! No! You are making it up,” Niccolette accused, giggling.

There was a brief look of something on Uzoji’s face – a flicker, as if she’d hurt him, and Niccolette froze, realizing her mistake immediately. An ache curled in her stomach, and she held the feelings back from her field, the last of the gold draining from it and leaving it indectal once more.. “I -” She hesitated, glancing at her husband, Jean almost forgotten, “Uzoji, I – I did not mean to – ”

Uzoji smiled at her, then, and Niccolette felt the ache in her stomach ease – not disappear, though, not entirely. It was all Jean’s fault, Niccolette thought, bitterly, even as she knew it to be unfair; nothing had gone wrong until now, but Jean’s arrival had distracted her – she had not meant to accuse Uzoji of lying. She had not meant it in that way at all; she had only wanted to tease him, just a little, and it had come out all wrong.

“It’s quite fun,” Uzoji was saying, easily, as if there had been no interruption, smiling as freely as he had during their toast. “There are some dunes not too far from Thul Ka where it’s popular – you just need a dune and a board, and you can sort of glide down the sand.”

He had brushed it aside as if it had never been, but Niccolette could not; she felt quite sick, still, and she wondered for a moment if she might tell Jean and Uzoji to have dinner alone, just them. She was sure she would not be able to eat. Her hands came together in her lap, tight, pressed against her stomach.

Uzoji was not so far from her, in his chair, but he was not very tall either. He shifted forward against the cushion, and he reached out, and he settled his hand onto hers – his left, with the gold ring on the fourth finger, and squeezed lightly.

Niccolette managed something that she was sure looked like a smile. She didn’t take Uzoji’s hand in hers, but didn’t pull away either, and he didn’t let go, leaving his hand on top of hers. “Perhaps we can check the – the pond,” she said, swallowing. “Surely if you can slide down a sand mountain,” Uzoji had explained dunes to her before, and even showed her an etching, but Niccolette still found it rather hard to picture, “then you can ice skate. Do you skate, Jean?” She glanced back up at Jean, and she tried to keep the smile on her face, but she could not – not quite.

[Genevieve De Silver]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711

Glass of port refilled Genevieve returned to the armchair and relaxed, pulling loose her cravat and undoing the top button of her collar. She smiled and nodded.

"Oh yes, it's truly beautiful this time of year. The pond? If it's cold enough it will freeze solid indeed."

At Uzoji's talk of sand skating Genevieve's eyebrows went up.

"You don't say Uzoji? I've been skiing, in my youth in Gior my mother's family had a lodge up in the mountains. I wonder if it is similar? To ski on a sand dune."


It was then she noticed a change in Niccolette, a distancing a closing down. She wasn’t sure why, she pondered on it. Then she was distracted by Niccolette’s question and looked thoughtful and took a sip of port.

"Yes indeed, in fact, I do believe there should still be a few sets of skates from when I was a boy. I shall ask Mrs Murphy later perhaps."


She stretched on her long legs and signed, but her knees ached. There was a knock on the door and a tired looking Cadoc put his head round it.

“Mr De Silver sir, your truck is in your rooms and I have taken the liberty of running you a bath and laying out your dinner suit.”

Genevieve beamed at her valet and long time friend, as she slowly got to her feet.

"Thank you so much Cadoc you are a boon and a savoir. That will be all for the evening, get some rest.”


Cadoc gave a weary smile and bowed and was about to leave when he remembered something.

"Ah dinner will be served in about half an hour, sir.”

Cadoc bowed to Uzoji and Niccolette and then once more to Genevieve before withdrawing.

Genevive turned and bowed to Niccolette and Uzoji,she bowed with her own weary smile.

"In that case, my dear friends, I will see you at dinner.”


She toasted them with her glass of port and left the room, working a knot out of her shoulder as she went.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711
The De Silver Manor, Outside Vienda

Niccolette had hardly glanced at Cadoc, although Uzoji had smiled at him and inclined his head in a gracious gesture. For all that Jean had insisted that they think of it as their own home, both galdori rose when Jean bowed, Uzoji’s hand sliding off Niccolette’s, and bowed.

“Glad to have you here,” Uzoji said, smiling.

Niccolette said nothing as she rose from her bow, and she crossed her arms over her front as Jean left the room, glancing off to the side. Her field was cool and still in the air around her, none of the emotion in her chest allowed to leak out and fray the edges of it, but her face was set, her lips pressed taut together, and she did not look at Uzoji.

“What is it, beloved?” Uzoji was the one to break the silence between them, his voice low and gentle.

“I wish he had not come,” Niccolette said, and there was an ache to her voice that she felt deep in her chest. Her shoulders tightened, and she turned the whole of herself away, crossing the room to the bookshelves and holding there; she could not have said what was written on any of the spines, but she stared at them nonetheless.

She heard Uzoji take a few steps towards her – he did not close the distance, but stood a little ways behind her. She thought she could feel him staring.

When he spoke, his voice was gentle – too gentle. “It is his house, my love.”

Niccolette grimaced, and she felt a hot rush behind her eyes. “I know that,” she snapped. There were a few trinkets on the shelves, and Niccolette thought of – she clenched her hands tighter against her arms, holding on so tightly she was shaking. “I am no fool.”

“I did not think you were,” Uzoji’s voice was still gentle, very gentle.

Niccolette’s nostrils flared, and her breath caught in her chest; she had to almost gasp for air. She was shaking, and there was silence between them for a long moment. Waiting, Niccolette thought, bitterly; he is waiting. She was determined to wait out longer than him, to force him to yield to the silence between them. He did not.

“Everyone is against us,” Niccolette said, bitterly. She let go of herself – pushed her hair back up off her face, heedless of the careful arrangements that had taken so much time, and turned to Uzoji, tears glinting hot in the corners of her eyes. “What if he is too?”

“Beloved,” Uzoji took another step towards her now, reaching out gently with his left hand.

Niccolette slapped it away and turned back to the bookshelves.

Uzoji held, just a little behind her. “Is this about Zena?” He asked, still so gentle.

“Why must it be about something?” Niccolette snapped. “Can I – can I not just – feel?” She squeezed her eyes shut, and felt a tear trickle free, slide slowly down her cheek.

“Of course,” Uzoji said, soothingly.

“Stop it!” Niccolette shuddered. “Just – stop it!” A few more tears slid down her cheeks, and sharp red crackled from her, taut through the edges of her field.

Uzoji was silent, standing behind her.

“You are being so – so terribly – condescending,” Niccolette shuddered, and wiped at her eyes with her hands, furious, ignoring the smudging of black eyeliner against her fingers. She bit back a sob, staring through the wetness spilling down her cheeks at the shelves once more.

“What should I say?” Uzoji asked, and now Niccolette heard the frustration in his voice. “I have given you everything I have, Niccolette. My name, my future. What more can I pledge?”

Niccolette shook her head. “And if it is not enough?” She turned, then, and looked back at him, shaking, and there were more tears spilling down her cheeks. “Have you thought of that? If it is not enough?”

Uzoji stared at her. She could see the hurt on his face, and she knew that she had done it to him, and she felt all the worse for it.

“Fuck,” Niccolette spat the curse, and rubbed at her eyes again. “I shall – I should not – ” She was shaking. “I am not hungry. I shall go to bed,” She said, her chest heaving, her eyes flickering towards the door.

“No,” Uzoji stepped closer; he did not come close enough to touch her, but he put himself between her and the door, and he held his gaze on her and did not look away.

“No?” Niccolette laughed, bitterly.

“No,” Uzoji said, and there was anger in his voice now too, and Niccolette felt something in her rejoice to hear it. “You aren’t running away from this, Niccolette. Not this conversation, and not dinner either.”

“I – I was not…” Niccolette swallowed, hard, staring at him. She was conscious of an odd, tight feeling in her chest, and the last of the red in her field flickered and faded, sank away, leaving her drained.

“It’s not whether it’s enough that matters,” Uzoji said, and he held her gaze with his, and Niccolette found that she could not look away. “It's whether we face it together, either way.” He extended his hand to her again, his left – put it in the space between them, and waited.

Niccolette’s lower lip trembled, and she was crying again, but she put her hand in his. And Uzoji drew her close, and he kissed her hair, and stroked her back, and let her ruin his shirt with his eyeliner, and Niccolette felt the hurt and tension drain from her, slowly – and she whispered yes, darling, into his chest. She did not know if he heard it, but she did know that he understood.

And when Jean came back down for dinner, half an hour later, the Ibutatus were smiling once more – and if Uzoji had changed his shirt, and Niccolette’s eyeliner was redrawn around slightly red eyes, there was no constraint in her face when she looked at him, not anymore.

[Genevieve De Silver]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711

The master bedroom of the manor hand once been her parents' room, now it was hers. Genevieve had refurbished it, bought furniture in the capital and had it delivered, all rich dark hardwood and fine heavy drapes and carpets. It had a large wardrobe and dressing room and a luxurious tiled bathroom adjoining it. She shed her clothes and draped them over an armchair, she smiled as she saw her dinner suit laid out on the bed, black tailcoat, black trousers a pristine white high collared shirt, deep purple velvet double breasted waistcoat with silver buttons and a matching cravat.

“Cadoc, you are a true blessing.”

On the way to the bathroom she took her cigar case from the dresser and lit a cigar with a candle. She entered the bathroom and saw the tub full of steaming water with a fragrant oils.

Genevieve placed her glass of port next to a crystal ashtray where she deposited her cigar on the small table by the tub Sighing she lowered herself into the bathtub, and for the next quarter of an hour or so she soaked, smoked, drank wine and relaxed.

Later she walked into the dining room, hair swept back and dressed in the excellent suit Cadoc had picked out for her and treated her guests to her broadest and warmest smile.

“Now that is better, and I do not know about you two but I am famished.”

She sat down at the head of the table and then Ernest and Beth came in carrying a series of domed silver trays.

“Now you two are in for a true treat, Mrs Murphy is by far one of the best cooks I have ever known.”

The dishes were a mix of Gioran and Anaxian delicacies. Geneivive chuckled and waved a hand.

“But of course that is a foolish thing of me to say, this is of course not the first time you have sampled her fine cooking.”

As they ate and made small talk she regarded her friends and smiled.

“Do you know, seeing you two, well it almost makes me tempted seek marriage myself.”

It was true, though she knew that could never and the smile she gave was tinged with sorrow. She covered it by taking a sip from her glass of wine which she then raised in a toast.

“Here's to the two of you, my dear friends.”

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, Achtus 8th, 2711
The De Silver Manor, Outside Vienda

Niccolette and Uzoji both sat at the table, opposite one another on either side of Jean, both too well-trained in the specifics of Anaxi dining etiquette to consider sitting elsewhere, even at such a dinner as this.

“She is a cook to be treasured,” Uzoji said, smiling pleasantly at Jean, and murmuring a quiet thank you to Ernest and Beth as they set the trays down. “I don’t think I’d tried any dishes of Gioran origin before – quite an interesting cuisine.”

Niccolette murmured something like agreement into her wine glass, taking a sip.

Uzoji ate with excellent manners, slow and polite, but with considerable enjoyment. Niccolette, on the other hand, took small portions, managed a bite or two, then promptly grew distracted by the conversation, set her fork down to wave her hand about, and only remembered to pick it up again about half the time.

“And to you, our gracious host,” Niccolette spoke this time after Jean’s toast, before Uzoji could reply. He glanced across at her, and he smiled; there was a warmth in his eyes that made Niccolette blushed, faintly, behind her raised glass.

“Indeed,” Uzoji echoed, and raised his as well. They both drank.

Niccolette sat back in her chair, her plate of food still in front of her. “What surprises me most, I think, is how very easy it is to get married in this country,” the Bastian pronounced. “One simply says – yes! I shall marry, and then you can just – do it!” She waved vaguely with one slender hand.

“It is a long process in Bastia," Uzoji explained to Jean, smiling.

“Yes!” Niccolette sat forward, intently, and took the opening mercilessly. “Even the engagement would take quite long to make formal, a season at least. And then for the wedding!” She shook her head. “One cannot simply walk into a Temple of Hurte and request to be married. Even if one decided today, it should take some – two, three seasons, I think, at the very least.” The Bastian shook her head, faintly, although it was unclear if she was dismayed by the fastness of Anaxi or the slowness of Bastians.

“Do you wish you’d had that?” Uzoji asked, shooting a faint apologetic smile to Jean.

Niccolette had picked up her wine glass, and she made a sound that would probably have been called a snort on anyone else into it, giggled, and set it back down. “Oh, Circle, no!” Niccolette grinned at him. “Oh, darling, it is quite a relief not to. A whole season is spent just choosing one’s wedding clothes – not just the bride, but the groom as well! One must be daring, but not too daring, and traditional, but not too traditional, and whatever you do it is wrong – everyone talks about it for months. It is quite dull,” Niccolette shuddered, and turned her attention to Jean.

“What sort of wedding should you like, Jean?” Niccolette grinned, needling gently. “Should you prefer Anaxi or Gioran traditions? What are Gioran traditions? I suppose it should depend on your wife, naturally,” The Bastian paused, and grinned. “Or husband,” she shrugged, noncommittally, indifferent between the two, and not entirely sure what Jean might himself prefer - or, characteristically Bastian, whether he might take his pick between the two.

Uzoji stifled a laugh into his wine, cleared his throat, and took a sip of it, smiling and turning his attention to Jean. "In Mugroba, some men have one of each," he added, a little wickedly.