Worldbuilding Blogfest Post 5 – Excerpt from The Last Grand Master.
Since yesterday’s entry was about the culture of Nendor and much ink was spilled discussing the festivals, I thought it would be fun to show how Farrell dealt with the preparations for his union ceremony. For the sake of better understanding the excerpt, Horgon is Miceral’s father and the First Minister of Haven – meaning he runs the day to day operations in Farrell’s name.
STARING at the parchment, Farrell rubbed his eyes. “Are you sure all of this is necessary?”
Horgon gave him a brief smile before nodding. “I’m afraid so. As Prince, you can’t sneak off and get joined. All this…” He waved at the papers. “…is just part of what’s involved. I’ve left the more mundane things out, figuring you don’t much care about things like color of the invitation or which flowers will be on the altar.”
“Unbelievable.” Farrell shook his head, lifting another sheet from the stack.
“There is good news,” Horgon said.
“What? The ceremony won’t be eight hours long?” He appreciated Horgon’s efforts, but he never envisioned the extent of the ceremonial obligations.
“By the Six, yes.” Horgon laughed. “I promise it won’t go a minute over six hours.”
Focused on the document in his hand, Farrell didn’t pay attention to the answer. When the import of what Horgon said hit him, he looked up. “I’m not finding this funny.”
“You need to relax.” Miceral gently rubbed Farrell’s shoulders. “Everything will work out.”
He shook his head. “Work out according to whose plans?”
Shifting through the papers, Horgon slid a sheet toward Farrell. “Back to the good news. We’ve worked everyone into the ceremony. As you can see from the sketch, your adopted brothers and father—” He pointed to the three peregrines images on the page. “—and mentors each have prominent roles, though I did need to include representatives from the nations in exile to get the clerics to—”
“Wait!” He waved the paper at Horgon. “This drawing is for the Grand Temple of Honorus. We were supposed to use the small private temple to Lenore in the Yar-del portion of Haven.”
“Yeeess,” Horgon drew out the word, turning to his right. “The high priests and priestesses felt that would prove too small, so they switched it to the Grand Temple. It has more room for the ceremony as well as far more seating. Also, the private temple you wanted is too small to hold Rothdin and your brothers. Did you want your adopted father to come, but not Grohl and Takala?”
“All six?” Farrell looked up again, his voice an octave higher. “You have the heads of all six temples written down. When did that happen?”
The smile faded from Horgon’s face as he threw his hands up. “Farrell, like it or not, you’re the Prince of Haven. You don’t get to elope and have the first available priest join the two of you.”
“All I—we—want is a simple ceremony with our friends and family. This is turning into a union ceremony for a king of Yar-del.”
“Farrell.” Miceral rubbed his shoulders a bit harder. “We got the things that mattered most. Some things we need to concede.”
“Concede?” Now Farrell raised his voice. “Concede implies there are negotiations involved! This is our ceremony. No one else gets a say!”
“Sorry, son.” Horgon sounded tired but firm. “But the people get a say when their ruler gets joined.”
Not wanting to spend the rest of the day arguing, Farrell tossed the paper onto the table. “Since it doesn’t matter what I want, I’m going to weapons practice. At least there when I get beaten down, it’s because I didn’t defend myself.”
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