“I would say not,” Asahl snorted, “So you may as well put that court smile away, find a seat, and join us.”

Shasol sighed again, the last of his attempt at proper posture melting away as he pulled over an extra chair to sink into while sipping at the full glass of wine he’d been carrying, “I would ask as a point of courtesy that you all paint,” he waved a free hand at Nie and Abuin, “This as romantically as you can to other court members.”

“Of course!” Derha tittered, “After last night, I doubt anyone in the higher court would hear otherwise…”

“’Tis true,” Asahl nodded with a smile, “Everyone has been aflutter about it all day.”

“Really?” Nie asked, a bit morbidly curious.

“Is that not proof enough?” Shasol asked, waving towards where the brother of Duke Hahsen had rejoined Gahne and her friends, “Hahsen is already sending your sister an assistant, shrewd as ever…”

“An assistant?” Nie asked.

Shasol nodded, “Someone she can rely on in navigating the higher court—I would advise caution, but from last night, I’d say your sister has a strong enough personality that she will not be unduly influenced by anyone.”

There were chuckles from several people in the group—yes, strong was one way to describe Gahne’s personality.

“Let us just hope she does not punch anyone,” Basahl sighed.

“Or at least remembers to declare an official duel first,” Nie added, wondering when he had already polished off the second glass.

“Is the Wahnera family prone to dueling?” Shasol chuckled.

Sohne huffed, “Bahr was one of the best duelists in Remeh in his prime—why he gets in a huff that his granddaughter tends to forget to issue her challenges properly.”

“And you, Nie?” Shasol asked.

“You are joking, are you not?” the human replied, waving to Mehla for another glass.

“I did not want to assume,” Shasol flashed a grin.

As Mehla brought over a tray for everyone in need of a new glass, Nie caught Bahr’s eye. His grandfather was glaring—likely at the amount of physical intimacy. It made Nie a little worried - while he was certainly getting older and less hot-headed, with a bad leg to boot, Bahr was still a master of Rabahni martial arts who practiced his craft every morning. Nie and Gahne often joined him, and their grandfather had yet to let the younger pair out-pace him.

I shall deal with that later, Nie thought, feeling surprisingly comfortable between Abuin’s and the alcohol’s warmth.

“Are you enjoying the little fish, Abby?” Shasol asked, leaning over the arm of his chair to look at the same pot pond as the Grand Duke.

“Mn,” Abuin nodded, “They are relaxing.”

“Are you going to move them up to the Nehma estate?” Vehn asked.

“Probably not,” Nie sighed, taking another drink of wine, “Maybe just my favorites—all of them would be too much work…”

“Mn?” Abuin turned his gaze to his betrothed.

“You have to take all the fish out and put them in a temporary container,” the human explained, “Then drain the water out of the pond, which can also affect the plant matter, and move it all. Then you have to refill the pond slowly and give all the particles stirred up by the fill time to settle before you can even put the travel container in the pond for the water temperatures to adjust so you do not shock the fish when you move them back.”

“And those pots can be heavy even without the water,” Basahl rolled her eyes.

Abuin nodded, but as his gaze traveled back to the nearby pond, his ears drooped as if he were disappointed.

I suppose he really does like them, Nie thought, once again flattered and surprised.

“Did you have any ideas of when you might have the ceremony?” Sohne asked, “The former Grand Duke Nehma is still abroad, is he not?”

“He will be back in the country in a fortnight,” Shasol said.

“I have no preferences,” Nie added, “Though it would probably be best to wait for the former Grand Duke before making plans.”

“Did you tell the Guild yet?” Dahm snorted.

“Tomorrow,” the human sighed, “I shall go in person—easier to address any… questions.”

“I suppose you will hardly need to lie about how you and His Grace met to them,” Asahl chuckled, “But you should come up with a proper one.”

“Should we?” Nie sighed, rubbing his forehead, “It seems the higher court might just do the job for us at this point.”

“The air of mystery can be very romantic,” Shasol agreed wryly.

“For all the things I never knew of you,” Dahm sang, acting along appropriately, “Were all the things that drew me to your side…”

Shasol snapped his fingers, “The prime man of the Greater Remeh Opera House.”

“Guilty,” Dahm smirked—ever pleased to be recognized. Especially by his voice. He added, “Do you attend often?”

“When I can—Abby is not fond, I’m afraid,” Shasol replied.

Nie could imagine—high notes and howlarias were probably a nightmare for his sharper hearing.

“Was that another verse from the new show?” Vehra asked.

“New show?” Shasol asked, leaning forward in his seat a bit.

“Have you heard of Famehn Yelneh?” Dahm asked.

“The composer from the Southern Principality?” Shasol asked, “The opera house managed to hire cer just after the popularity of Embers in Snow five years ago, yes?”

Denehn snorted, “Oh no, an actual fan – he shall be insufferable now.”

Dahm huffed at her with an irritated flick of his ears, then said, “Ce and I have been lovers for four of those years—ce wrote a new show just for me. We will be performing it this fall.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” Shasol said, tail wagging a little as he forced himself to sit back in his seat.

At least that should make him cut back on his snide remarks for the night, Nie thought—though he supposed he could not blame Dahm.

After all, marrying someone with status because they found him attractive had not worked out very well for the opera singer. Neither of Dahm’s spouses ever attended a club event or gathering, though some of the others had met them during other court events. Famehn was more likely to accompany him during a private club party—and from what they had all gathered over the years, the Greater Count thought of Dahm more like a shiny ornament than a spouse.

As if summoned by the discussion, Famehn cerself arrived, pausing at the doorway to bow towards Shasol and Abuin, “Your Grace.”

“Famehn, darling, the Greater Marquis is an opera fan,” Dahm said, sitting up on the small chaise to give his lover room to sit.

“Yes?” ce asked, taking the seat with a nod. Ce had a fairly pronounced Southern accent, “I hope you come to see the new show. But ah, congratulations, Nie.”

“Thank you,” the human said, raising his glass in acknowledgment.

The evening continued with more idle chat, guests leaving slowly as they needed to, though Dahm hung back until the rest had departed.

“I take it you would like a word?” Nie sighed, returning to the porch of the small dining hall after seeing his betrothed off.

Dahm snorted, “I imagine you have a fair idea what about, as well.”

“He is not attempting to fool me,” Nie said, “As you saw, he’s very upfront about his reasoning.”

“That is true,” the opera singer agreed. He sighed, “Well, at least your ears are up and eyes open.”

“And you get the attentions of a higher-ranking fan,” the human chuckled.

Dahm snorted, “It will fade. But be honest with me—are you certain about this?”

Nie sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing at his face, “It is all so much—but yes, I am certain. He will treat me well, and even if there is never love, he is comfortable enough companionship for me.”

“I noticed,” his friend replied—for, even with the man’s acidic streak, Nie considered him such.

Nie snorted, then said, “He is ahsehn. He finds my scent relaxing when social events cause him stress.”

“Oh,” Dahm chuckled, “No wonder he is not fond of the opera. Well, as long as you are sure of it,” he rose with a stretch, “I would be happy to lend a voice at the wedding.”

“Thank you,” Nie said, waving as the opera singer saw himself out.

It took very little time for Gahne and Bahr to join him instead.

“Shasol was not kidding,” Gahne laughed.

“I told His Grace it was fine,” Nie said, groaning as he sat up.

“Still,” Bahr huffed, then decided to let it lie, “How was the meeting with the Grand Princess?”

“She had intended to persuade me into convincing Abuin to marry me,” Nie replied, the way his mind had gone a bit fuzzy around the edges making the words easier to relay.

Gahne started laughing, “No!”

Bahr rubbed his face, “You really do have the upper court on your side…”

“Well… considering my betrothed’s parentage,” Nie sighed.

His grandfather hummed with a nod, “True enough. Bit of bad business, that.”

Bahr described a lot of things as ‘a bit of bad business’—but most usually, anything with forces outside of his or the other person’s control. An unexpected storm sinking a friend’s ship was as much ‘bad business’ as a sudden illness, but investing in a shady merchant was a ‘fool’s business’. As such, Nie knew this reply meant his grandfather felt much the same as he did on the matter. It was a sad situation that little, if anything, could be done for.

“His parentage?” Gahne asked.

“You shall probably hear of it sooner or later,” Nie sighed, “His other parent is, allegedly, the person who became Dasahn.”

Gahne gasped, “What? But that is—!”

Bahr stamped his cane on the ground, “’Tis one thing to acknowledge it, but we cannot judge the former Grand Duke for a relationship we know nothing about—or the current one, for that matter.”

Gahne’s ears drooped, properly chagrined for her excitement for scandal, “Of course, Grandfather.”

“The way His Grace tells it,” Nie said softly, “it was very unfortunate circumstances.”

“You asked him?” Bahr looked ready for another lecture.

Nie sighed, “I had not heard of it and asked about his parents without realizing.”

“Ah,” his grandfather sighed as well, “Well, these things do happen. At least now you shall not bring it up in front of his father.”

The human chuckled, then got unsteadily to his feet, “That is true. I believe it is past time for me to go to bed. Good night.”

His family returned the sentiment, likely soon to head for their own quarters.

Nie found sleep easy enough to come by, though he regretted how much he’d drank the next morning at breakfast.

“I meant to ask,” he started, sipping ginger and lavender tea for his headache, “How did you find the young Lord Wehmra?”

“Oh!” Gahne slapped the table, “Him!”

“The Petty Duke?” Bahr asked, using the proper title for the sibling of the seated or future holder of a rank.

“Yes!” Gahne huffed, “He is so annoying! It was so obvious he did not want to be here, but he would not leave, either - and he said he’d escort me at higher court events. He did not ask; he just said he was going to!”

Nie smiled, “Do not be too harsh—his brother is forcing his hand.”

“That is hardly my fault!” his sister waved her arms emphatically, “So he need not be an ass to me!”

Bahr rolled his eyes, “Gahne…”

“I would not say it to his face,” she sulked, then laughed, “He was fairly petulant after whatever the Greater Marquis said to him, though.”

“I’ve half a mind to ask him,” Nie snorted.

“If he really tries to escort me without asking, I shall challenge him,” Gahne huffed, “Petty Duke or not, he cannot decide to be my escort for me.”

“Just remember to punch him after he accepts the challenge,” Bahr said dryly.

Nie chuckled. There had been a few incidents of a slightly younger Gahne issuing a challenge and then pouncing on her opponent before they had time to properly reply.

Gahne whined, “Yes, Grandfather.”

“Let us know how things go at the Guild,” Bahr said.

“Of course,” Nie said, “Hopefully, there will not be too many… complications.”

“Hopefully, there will not be any complications,” his grandfather sighed, “But that does seem like much to hope for.”

“I just hope Lehma goes easy on me,” Nie replied, speaking of his supervisor, “She hates having to schedule around senior member weddings when she is expecting them.”

“Because you all mostly have regulars that dislike going to another massagist, correct?” Gahne chuckled.

Nie nodded in agreement, then groaned, “And it is not as though His Grace was the only higher court member in my roster - though fortunately, most of my regulars are not nobles at all.”

“Are you going to invite any of them?” Gahne asked.

“I shall consider it,” her brother sighed, “Though I suppose the higher court members will be invited by default…”

“You certainly won’t be able to keep the ceremony small,” Bahr huffed, “At least it shall be on the Nehma coin.”

Nie nodded his agreement. The Wahnera estate certainly could not afford a wedding befitting a Grand Duke, even with funds already being set aside for Gahne’s eventual marriage.

Nie finished his breakfast and tried not to think of all the other things he needed to plan, needing his focus for the day ahead.