The Last Seers: Felora

The Prophecy

Her left palm had been tied to the back of her new husband's right hand since noon. Her hand was sweaty and itched but Barric didn't seem bothered by it. Felora drew a long deep breath. Four days ago a seer had gone to the elders with a vision which led to a rushed ceremony and now a drawn-out wedding feast. She tipped the aeppelwin to her lips and drained the whole cup. She needed at least two more of those before the public procession to the consummation began.

She shifted her weight to trade the ache from one ankle to the other.

"It's almost over." Barric lifted the wrist tethered to his and kissed her hand. He nodded to their right. "Fa's almost talked to all the elders. Then we'll head home."

The dress was loose where pants were snug, and the whole ensemble too breezy. She wiggled her toes inside the new shoes and pushed against the restrictive laces. It would be impossible to fight in these clothes.

Maxton and his young son approached and the men bowed their heads in deference to each other's rank. Barric nudged her with an elbow. She blinked. He stared at her and bounced on his toes once. Right, they insisted she bend her knees and bow her head, like she had to be reminded she was of lesser import or value than any man. She performed her trick.

Maxton waved away her lapse of protocol. "There's a lot to learn when you haven't grown up with our customs. I'm sure you'll figure it out. Eventually." He turned to her new father-in-law, Felora dismissed from his mind it seemed, and waved his cup at the full room. "So, it went off well. And you were worried."

Garvin's brows, so like her husband's, shot up and he made side-eyes in her direction. "Yes, I am pleasantly surprised."

She'd executed her tricks like a trained dog—wasn't that what every bride hoped for on her wedding day? She snatched another walnut cup of aeppelwin from a passing servant.

Garvin nodded at the cup Maxton sipped from. "What do you think? This is the first batch I had age in oak beor barrels from Ijon. One of my men suggested it. I'll have to do it again. Saved a couple of hogsheads for the wedding, but the rest of it is headed out to Ijon and Jabbok."

Maxton raised his glass and smiled. "To trade, may it continue to make us both very rich."

Garvin knocked his cup against Maxton's.

They might have money in their pockets, but their moral ledgers were bankrupt. Felora sipped her aeppelwin, her foot tapping the floor.

Maxton's index finger was raised as he sipped, as she'd been told to do and never remembered. "Lost two men this week."

She gave up sipping and downed the last of her drink. If this wedding was really all that important they'd have given her a drinking horn not these small walnut cups.

"Wolves." Garvin shook his head. "If I ever find out who freed them..."

Maxton nodded. "The problem needs to be dealt with before they find an ally in one of our enemies..."

She crooked her finger at a servant to fetch her another cup, but Barric tugged her away by their tethered hands.

She turned to him. "They blame Fa for the wolves escaping, but someone freed them. We just can't prove it." She shook her head at Barric's blank stare. He chose not to see the corruption in front of him, and wouldn't she in his place? He had no way to stop it nor was he going to be allowed to choose another path being the only male heir of his family. But the matter had her Fa up nights worrying, and that concerned her. Wyne was too pragmatic to lose sleep over what-ifs.