The great hall had been arranged within an inch of its life.

Flowers from the terraced gardens covered every surface that could reasonably hold them and several that could not. Candles in their hundreds. The high table set with the palace's oldest silver, which Seralyn knew was the oldest silver because her mother had mentioned it four times in the preceding week, each time with the careful emphasis of a woman making sure her efforts would be seen. It was very beautiful. Her mother had done this, and it was immaculate, and she was not going to say so tonight but she would find a way to say it before she left.

She sat at the high table and looked at it all, and Cassius was beside her, and her father was speaking, and then Lord Aldric was speaking, and the toasts proceeded in their correct order and she raised her glass at the correct intervals and kept her expression arranged in the vicinity of gracious. She had been doing this since childhood. It required very little of her now.

The courses came and went. She ate more than she had expected to, which surprised her. The kitchen had produced something with the white fish from the Vethian coast that she had always been partial to, and she was halfway through it before she registered that she was eating with something approaching appetite. It felt like a minor betrayal of the solemnity she had been maintaining since dawn. She decided not to examine it.

Beside her, Cassius ate steadily and without commentary. Food was food. The point of it was sustenance. She found this, obscurely, restful.

The first person to approach was Lady Vethena Sunhallow— Lord Ilian Calseth's wife, seventy if she was a day, and entirely unbothered by the fact. She arrived at Seralyn's elbow between the second and third courses with a wide smile and a warmth that was genuine and exhausting in equal measure.

"Your Highness," she said. "What a picture you make. That gown — so understated, so entirely you."

"Lady Vethena," Seralyn said. "How good of you to come."

"I would not have missed it." Her eyes moved to Cassius with frank appraisal. "And you must be Lord Halor. We have heard a great deal about House Halor."

"I hope it was accurate," Cassius said.

"Entirely," she said, which could have meant anything. She looked between them with the bright attention of a woman conducting a rapid private assessment. "You look well together," she announced. "I said to Lord Calseth just this morning — I said, whatever one thinks of the circumstances, the match itself is sound. You can see it."

"You are very kind," Seralyn said.

"I am very observant," Lady Vethena corrected, pleasantly. "There is a difference." She patted Seralyn's hand once, a liberty Seralyn permitted without comment, and moved away down the table.

Seralyn looked at her wine.

"She is not wrong," Cassius said, very quietly.

She looked at him. He was facing forward, expression neutral.

"About being observant," he said.

"Mm," she said, and took a drink.

Lord Fareth approached somewhere during the third course. He was a large man with a large voice and views on the Vorrachi situation that he had never once been asked for and had never once withheld. He addressed himself primarily to Cassius and spoke at length about the military situation in terms that suggested he had read approximately one report on the subject and considered himself fully briefed.

Cassius listened. His expression did not change. When Lord Fareth paused for breath, Cassius said, evenly: "The terrain east of the Ashen Range makes the supply lines the primary concern. Numbers are secondary."

Lord Fareth blinked. "Well," he said. "Yes. Precisely."

"Your Highness." Cassius turned to her. "You have read the eastern dispatches."

She had not expected to be included. She was aware that Lord Fareth had not expected it either. "The supply question is accurate," she said. "Vorrach has spent a decade building infrastructure on their side of the range. They are not improvising."

Lord Fareth looked at her, then back at Cassius, then excused himself shortly after.

When he was gone she looked at her plate. "You did not have to do that," she said.

"I know," Cassius said.

"He would not have addressed me regardless."

"I know that too." A pause. "It seemed like a waste."

She picked up her fork. After a moment: "The supply line analysis. Is that the current thinking in Drevorn?"

He glanced at her. "It is my thinking. Whether it is the current thinking in Drevorn depends on who you ask."

"And your father?"

"My father agrees on the supply lines. He disagrees on the timeline. He believes Maerath will move within the year. I think it may be sooner."

She set her fork down. "Why sooner?"

He looked at her. "Because waiting costs him more than it costs us. The alliance is already formed. Every month it consolidates, his advantage narrows." A pause. "He is not a patient man by nature. The patience he has shown has been deliberate, and deliberate patience has limits."

She considered this. "You have studied him."

"I have read what there is to read. Which is not much. Vorrach does not export information willingly."

"No," she agreed. "It does not."

He looked at her, and she thought he was about to say something further, but Lord Aldric rose to speak again and the moment closed and they both turned forward and listened to the toast.

Her mother came to her once, briefly, between courses. She appeared at Seralyn's shoulder without preamble and said, low: "You are managing well."

"I am at my own wedding feast," Seralyn said. "Managing is the minimum."

Her mother looked at her for a moment with an expression Seralyn could not entirely read, which was unusual. "Eat something," she said, and moved away.

Seralyn looked at her plate. She had already eaten quite a lot. She ate a little more anyway.

Orren materialized at her other shoulder at some point in the latter half of the evening. He leaned down and said, close enough that only she could hear: "He included you in the Fareth conversation."

"I noticed," she said.

"I thought you would want to know I noticed too."

She looked at him. He looked back with the expression he wore when he was being sincere. He straightened and moved off before she could respond.

She turned back to the table.