A/N: Took a little longer to write this; was busy with work and another draft for another quest, and got distracted by watching too much Youtube.

PS: There was a discrepancy pointed out by a reader that being born in 26 BC, at 16 BC he was only ten and not fourteen. Changed the birth year to 30BC instead of 26 BC.

Chapter XI: Happy Marriage

14 BC

Arsalm

With the whole debacle regarding House Ardera and House Hornet put to a close, there was reason to celebrate afterwards, for it was announced that Belandra and Arin were to be married.

With Belandra having absolved her name after giving the order for the purging of Guerin's faction alongside her brother, many now supported her role as Lady of Qorenport and her marriage with Arin Rada. Meanwhile, Edryck would take over her governorship of Tucosar as Steward of Qorenport, with Mors Sand as his faithful retainer.

Arin and his family went all out planning the wedding celebration; the venue was none other than an old temple dedicated to Mother Rhoyne - the very last one still standing. Tall, imposing, aesthetically pleasing with bright coloured tiles and curled arches and its pointed domes, the Amtel Mar [1] Temple was a standing example of exemplary Rhoynish architecture - practical yet beautiful, perfectly suited to the hot desert climate.

Maintained by a small cadre of priests who yet worshipped the Mother Rhoyne, it has played host to countless centuries of sermons, weddings, funerals and baptisms, and today's wedding was the most joyous of all.

The Head Priestess of Amtel Mar, Ameline Mator, smiled brightly as she stood before the betrothed couple, dressed in the finest clothing Arsalm's tailors made for this occasion; Arin in a bright burgundy tunic, breeches and boots; Belandra in a dress of immaculate, bright cherry and dazzling ocean blue. Standing to the side were Mors - Edryck's loyal servant and father-figure - and Arris Rada.

"Arin Rada, do you pledge to take Belandra as your lawful wife?" Ameline asked, her voice soft and gentle, "Do you pledge to care for her in sickness and health, no matter the adversity that comes your way?"

"I do," Arin smiled.

"Belandra Qeffar, do you pledge to take Arin as your lawful husband? Do you pledge to care for him in sickness and health, and stand together with him against all the challenges and obstacles that life puts in your way?"

"I do," Belandra smiled.

"Then by the grace of Mother Rhoyne and our ancestors, I pronounce you man and wife," Said Ameline, "Do their parents consent to the cloaking of their children?"

"I, Arris Rada, do consent to cloaking my daughter-in-law," Arris stated happily.

"I, Mors Sand, do consent to cloaking my son-in-law," Mors stated stoically, his eyes shining with joy.

"Then drape thine cloaks around their shoulders, so they may be forevermore happy in matrimony."

The cloaks were clasped around their shoulders, and after rising up Arin and Belandra kissed, and all the gathered procession clapped happily. Astin and their parents beamed with pride and joy, celebrating a new chapter in their families' histories.

IIOII

The celebrations rang out late into the night, and all the stops were pulled out.

Men and women danced and made merry, feasting and drinking until their bellies were close to bursting, the singing and playing of musicians illuminating the night with joy. Colourful flags and fragrant flowers decorated the venue, and to the side were tables of dishes laden with heaping portions of food and drink.

At one corner of the venue was a lone man with strong Greenblood Dornish features - olive brown skin, black hair and brown eyes - cooking trays of delicious skewers of meat, offal and vegetables. The smoky fragrance was enough to whet everyone's appetite, and the head chef himself was the subject of many a swooning maiden's affections.

To his side was a lone woman in chef's garb - a white buttoned shirt and black breeches - skewering all manner of ingredients on wooden skewers. Cucumbers, Dornish peppers, onions, beef, pork and chicken, to name a few.

"Keep the food coming, Maryam!" Said the Head Chef.

"I gotcha, Garin!"

Garin Radnor, Arin's Head Chef and organiser of the wedding banquet, was a farm owner from the village of Sranan [2], a small farming village which derived its livelihood from the cultivation of blood oranges and olives. When the previous Lord was executed on charges of tax evasion and extortion of merchants, he was just a teenage boy of ten-and-five years who inherited the family farm with his two siblings and co-workers.

Many of his neighbours feared for him, but Garin persevered and showed no fear despite his circumstances. By his side was the ever-faithful Maryam, his aide and second-in-command of his family's agricultural enterprise and co-Head Chef.

When Arin first instituted measures to spread the use of advanced farming methods, Garin proved a genius - understanding and implementing them without a single flaw. Within a year, he single-handedly helped pioneer the revival of Sranan's agrarian economy, which had fallen into severe mismanagement after a string of unjust executions and extortions.

Now, Sranan was renowned for its bountiful harvests and as a pioneer in the selective breeding of new types of produce, and ever since Garin was recruited by Arin, he served faithfully as House Rada's Master of Agriculture. It is said that so pleased by Garin's contributions, Arin gave him the surname Radnor, derived from Rada, and thus he was a noble in all but name.

Organising everything from the recruitment and positioning of staff roles, to the placement of tables and the guests' seating arrangement, the sourcing of ingredients and training of chefs, and as of now, dazzling the guests with live cooking.

"Wow, he's so handsome…"

"He handles that heat as if it were nothing."

"The food he cooks is just so delicious…!"

"Heh, I say your head chef's already charmed the guests," Belandra commented, "And here I thought the bride and the groom were supposed to be the 'stars of the show' as you put it."

"Not just yet," Arin admitted, "It's when we cut the cake and toast the guests that we really become the stars."

"Then this is just a warm-up?" Asked Belandra.

"Sort of," Arin shrugged.

Soon enough, a couple of servants pushed forth a wooden cart, laden with a massive, four-layered dessert covered in white and adorned in all manner of colourful, artful decorative lines and curls of blue, red and orange. Sliced berries lined the top surfaces of the cake, and at the peak, a single canoe-like shape acting as the crown.

"Wow, that's… magnificent," Belandra commented amid a hush of whispers, "And Garin calls this a 'wedding cake'?"

"Yes," Arin answered.

"Wow. I thought cakes tended to have a… browner colour?" Belandra suggested.

"This one's covered with a layer of frosting; all the lines and curves are also frosting," Arin stated.

"And the boat-like thing on top, is that edible?" Asked Belandra.

"Technically, every part of the cake's edible, including the decor," Arin answered.

"Wow, where does he get the knowledge to perform all these… amazing things?" Belandra questioned, "I feel that his knowledge seems… otherworldly."

Arin flashed her a strange look, then smirked, "I leave it to your imagination."

Once the cake was placed in position, Garin went towards the bride and groom, holding a wooden box in his hand. Opening it, he revealed a large, long carving knife housed within.

"My Lord, My Lady, it is time to cut the cake," Garin bowed, offering the knife.

"Let's go," Arin beckoned.

The knife was surprisingly light despite its size, and at the first cut, all the gathered guests clapped in celebration. Arris and Mors shed tears discreetly through their bright smiles, and soon Garin and the other chefs took over and sliced the cake for the guests.

The first bite was the rich cake, accentuated by the sweet frosting and cream filling between the layers, and the berries' tartness balancing out the sweetness. And the canoe-like decoration? Made from sugar. That was a special treat for the stars of the show - the bride and the groom.

"You know… I'm glad to have met you," Belandra whispered, "If you hadn't come, who knows what would have happened to me and my brother? Perhaps I'd be disinherited, stripped of my titles and belongings, left to beg on the streets or worse… And then what about my brother? I heard the streets are merciless to orphans."

"That won't happen," Arin resolutely declared, "Not on my watch."

"And I'm glad for that," Belandra said, leaning her head on his shoulder, "It's really comforting."

To the side, Arron Darrel and Obela Lleryn watched the entire banquet with a scrutinising eye, drinking in every detail their eyes and other senses could detect: the reaction of the guests, the atmosphere.

"Look at all the food and decor on display," Obela whispered, sipping a glass of wine, "The decor itself is tasteful and luxurious, but without being overly gaudy and pretentious, while the variety of food readily available shows the wealth and resources at House Rada's disposal."

"The sheer amount of fresh vegetables prepared is a dead giveaway," Arron nodded, "And that massive cake with so much 'frosting' and that canoe made of sugar… they must have spent a fortune on this."

"As if that cake had as much worth as a castle [3] or such," Obela added, "And then there was that 'live cooking' session; it not only served to dazzle the guests but also whet their appetite. You saw how much attention everyone else was paying to them, no?"

"That, and the whole banquet; it radiates originality and innovativeness, things most nobles fail to implement in their banquets and other events," Arron pointed out, "They entertain and satisfy their guests to their utmost capability and seated guests according to different preferences, agendas and interests. This way, they don't have clashing personalities causing disruption to the whole event. Garin is a terrifying man to organise this, but the real monster is Arin."

"That man… his eye for people is without equal under the Heavens," Obela concluded, "I suspect even if Arin were somehow gone, the foundation he built will not crumble so easily, as he has a network of subordinates to take over."

"My thoughts exactly," Arron nodded, "And truthfully, I now have several more reasons why I never want him as my enemy - our enemy."

[1] Amtel Mar - Meaning Resting Mother in Rhoynar, the Temple has stood the test of time over the centuries despite the misfortunes of the Rhoynar over the centuries since Nymeria's Landing. As a place of worship, it has also played the role of a safe haven for countless tomes of Rhoynish lore safely hidden within its catacombs, from engineering to alchemy.

Eventually it would play a pivotal role in the celebration of countless religious festivals for adherents of Udohanism.

[2] Garin Radnor - Head of his family and Master of Agriculture for House Rada, he would come to be known as the God of Food for his unparalleled mastery of the culinary arts and a pioneer in the cultivation of hardy, sturdy breeds of produce for the arid deserts of Dorne, and the cold rigid tundra of the North.

[3] A Cake is Worth a Castle - An idiom that gradually entered common usage due to Obela's offhand comment about the worth of the wedding cake, made using a lot of sugar - a highly valuable and expensive commodity at the time.