“I usually do not have the opportunity to explain it first,” Abuin went on, “It is… refreshing.”

Nie examined his betrothed carefully—but no, it was true. There were no signs of distress in how he carried himself as they walked along.

“Well, let us wait until we are in the carriage, at least,” Shasol suggested.

It did not take long—a relatively short walk back through the estate, and the carriage came around smartly as if already prepared.

Once they were all seated inside and bound for the Wahnera estate, with Shasol electing to sit across from the ‘happy couple’, Abuin looked at Nie expectantly.

“Did you,” Nie started, then sighed, “How do you desire to explain it?”

Abuin hummed, leaning back into the corner of the bench seat, “My father has very curly red hair and fur—in little coils, much curlier than mine—and darker skin. Dasahn is albino, with straight hair and fur.”

Looking at Abuin’s coat—the pink strawberry roan with white patches—combined with the pale patches on his tan skin… Yes, it was easy to draw a conclusion there.

“My father was Dasahn’s valet before they regained their divinity to become one of the Six,” Abuin went on, cadence suspiciously even, as though he had practiced this speech many times before, “At the time, it was believed that Dasahn’s physically stronger brother was destined to be the next Dasahn. So they had no reason to base their relationship as valet and lord off the assumption that it would need to end.”

Nie understood.

Dasahn was the name of the Rabahni Deity of Commerce. Remeh sat next to the largest pass in the Worldspine Mountains, making it the main trade hub of Rabahn and the prosperous northern kingdoms. As such, the royal family of Eluneh that presided over the Northern Principality was of Dasahn’s divine line. That was why they were reborn through the Eluneh— when the previous member of the Six died, the deity’s memories would surge into their new avatar’s mind.

No one knew who that host would be until the time came, though there were… indicators. They were usually ahsehn, as it showed they had already been touched by divine power, and tended to be both sharp in intellect and strong of body. Otherwise, hosting a deity’s power could overwhelm them. And once the avatar had their divine memories, the person they had been before was struck from the record, for they were now Dasahn, in both title and name.

They were not required to pretend the previous life did not exist. Many kept in close contact with their mortal family, as it was the Divine’s descendants as well. They did, however, relinquish all legal ties—marriages were considered annulled, and children were left with their mortal parents and relatives.

There was a possibility that Abuin’s father and the current Dasahn would have gotten married. There would have been no shame in that. Marriage to legitimize an unexpected pregnancy between lovers was but one of many political reasons for Rabahni nobles to wed. However, if the Dasahn had been reborn before they had discovered the pregnancy… well. It was simply too late, then.

“Did you… ever ask your father?” Nie asked, uncertain what else to say.

Abuin hummed, looking out the window of the coach, “My father always told me that my other parent was the singular love of his life, and that he had no regrets.”

Shasol sighed, studying the carriage floor; likely, this was all known to him already. But it was still a difficult situation.

Nie took in a sharp breath, then released it, “It must have been awful for them.”

“Mn?” Abuin looked back.

“Your parents,” the human clarified, “No matter how… precisely those events played out, it must have been a terrible way to lose someone you love.”

The Grand Duke stared for a moment, then wrapped his arms around his betrothed and tugged Nie against his side, replying, “Yes. I believe so as well.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence; after all, what else was there to say?

The somber feeling gave way to dread when the carriage arrived before the estate.

This should be a nice bit of intrigue, Nie thought, as Shasol left the carriage first.

“Your Grace,” the guards at the gate said with a bow, deferring to the Grand Duke’s higher position.

“Mn,” Abuin acknowledged, eyes curiously looking over the estate.

“Your Grace!” Ehmra ran out to greet them, bowing as well, “Welcome to the Wahnera estate! I am afraid we were not expecting a person of your prestige to arrive today!”

“You can rise, all of you,” Shasol said, “And please, no need for alarm—we are well aware we were not expected.”

Ehmra rose uncertainly, looking to Nie for assurance.

“I stopped by the Nehma estate after tea with Her Highness,” Nie provided, “His Grace,” he paused, “Abuin expressed an interest in seeing the pot ponds I’ve made, and as it is the day of my acceptance of his request…”

Abuin’s tail wagged behind him, and he remained a step or two behind Nie as the human led the way inside.

“Yes, yes of course,” Ehmra nodded, waving rushing staff members out of the way, “There are guests in the hall facing the garden. Many of Lord Nie’s creations are there as well.”

Shasol snorted, then cleared his throat.

Nie rolled his eyes. He did not use his title when he was working, and it was unusual for higher court members to address lower court members by title in any case.

When they entered the Garden Hall, everyone was already on their feet to bow and greet Abuin.

“Mn,” he offered them, a hand lightly placed against his betrothed’s back.

Ah, yes, crowds, Nie thought, pressing into the contact to give Abuin tacit permission as he took in who had arrived.

Bahr was at the small dining table inside with his two oldest friends—the merchant who sold their wine and produce, Bahren, and Viscountess Dahna. Dahna’s two husbands were also in attendance, as well as Bahren’s wife.

Gahne was standing near one of the small collections of furniture with her close friend, Fahn, as well as a young nobleman Nie did not recognize.

The members of the RMAC were gathered on the porch proper—Vehra, Dahm, Derha, Sohne, and Hahmra. Their spouses were also gathered nearby. Denehn, Bahren’s daughter and an unofficial member of the RMAC, was with this group as well.

“Rise, please,” Shasol said on Abuin’s behalf, plastering on a smile, “May I express how grateful His Grace is that so many of his betrothed’s family and friends have arrived to offer congratulations!”

Abuin nodded, taking in the room at large, his attention mostly caught by the garden’s view through the open twin set of double glass doors.

“Of course,” Bahr, being head of the household, made his way over, “We are pleased His Grace could come to receive those congratulations in person.”

Shasol nodded, “Yes, we do apologize for the change in plans—please, do return to the celebration; no need for strict formalities!”

Bahr grumbled, giving Abuin a cursory look over before saying, “Nie?”

“I shall… explain later,” Nie sighed, “For now, I could use a drink.”

“I am sure,” Bahr said, frowning at the physical contact between his grandson and the Grand Duke. He shook his head, then called out, “Drinks! More drinks!”

After collecting a drink, Nie waved to his sister before making his way over to the club members and their spouses. He took a long sip, savoring the sweet burn of Wahnera house wine before forcing a smile of his own, “Thank you for coming by, everyone.”

“Congratulations,” Derha offered with a nervous laugh, their hand around their wife Asahl's waist like a lifeline.

She smiled with more believable court politeness, “I see the RMAC will have a new president.”

“Ah,” Nie said, “I… had not yet considered that.”

“You will be the new highest ranking member,” Dahm said, taking a quick drink of his own before adding, “By about a mile…”

Abuin was still glued to his side, until he spotted one of the pot ponds and stepped away to get a proper look.

“My… betrothed was intrigued by what our club does,” Nie provided, equal parts flattered and embarrassed by the plain fascination.

“That is new,” Vehra snorted, then hissed as one of her wives elbowed her.

“Do not act as though I did not help you carry that fifty-gallon monstrosity of a pot onto our porch,” Basahl huffed, then added, “Congratulations, Nie.”

“Thank you,” the human said, reconsidering many of the life choices that had led to this moment.

“I can’t believe you are getting married,” Denehn snorted, “You’ve only courted… what, one person before?”

“A summer fling with your cousin hardly counts as courting,” Nie rolled his eyes, “And that was ten years ago.”

“Which makes it all the more unbelievable, don’t you think?” she grinned.

They mostly seemed to come to a group consensus that sitting on the furniture set out on the wide porch was fine, as Abuin was largely engrossed in walking between the various pot ponds found there.

“How did… you meet His Grace?” Vehn, Vehra’s other wife, asked.

Nie considered the best way to answer that before deciding on, “Please do not ask me that.”

Denehn did her best not to burst out laughing, only half succeeding.

“Should we ask you anything?” Dahm snorted.

“I heard you had tea with Her Highness earlier today,” Hahmra piped up. She was the youngest member of the club, having only debuted three years ago.

“Was she congratulating you as well?” Sohne, the oldest member of the club at fifty-five, asked sedately.

“It was… definitely related to the engagement,” Nie smiled and took a drink, “But forgive me for not sharing more.”

He looked around to see where Shasol had gone, spotting the Greater Marquis having an aside with the young nobleman Nie had not recognized earlier. The young man did not appear pleased by whatever Shasol was telling him, but without more context, Nie had not the slightest clue what that could be.

“That is the younger brother of Duke Hahsen Wehmra,” Derha supplied with a titter, noting his gaze, “Apparently, his brother asked him to come on his behalf.”

Nie nodded, “Ah, yes, I… had the pleasure of meeting the Duke last night.”

“Seriously, Nie,” Dahm interrupted, apparently at his breaking point, “We are not going to spread a bunch of idle gossip. Can you just tell us what is really going on right now?”

Nie tried to hold out, but instead sighed and rubbed at his forehead, “I was… discreetly employed as his gr—as Abuin’s masseur up until last month when I was dismissed…” except attempting to relay the reason for his dismissal made the blood rush to his face again, so he downed the rest of his drink.

“Dismissed for what?” Vehra arched a brow, glancing between Nie and his betrothed.

Abuin was crouched in front of one of the larger pot ponds, tail wagging sedately, before he replied, “I realized I was attracted to Nie and dismissed him after I got in a state over it.”

Nie covered his eyes with one hand, the other joining it when someone took away his empty glass.

“He dismissed you because,” Denehn lost her fight to keep her composure, raucous laughter cutting through the idle chatter of the rest of the party.

She was not alone—at least half the rest of the group also began laughing—though Denehn remained the most enthusiastic.

“And,” Sohne cleared her throat, “How does this relate to the proposal…?”

Nie forced himself to sit up, offering Mehla—one of the maids—a grateful smile for bringing over another glass of wine. He took a drink to steady himself before continuing, “Abuin saw me at the debut ball, and that was when he realized I was another noble.”

“So,” Denehn was finally starting to get control of herself, “So he,” she looked over at the Grand Duke, “Your Grace, you…”

Abuin rose with a sigh, walking over to the group and making room to sit with them by picking Nie up and depositing the human in his lap. He did not look at the group, though. His gaze fell to one of the closer pot ponds as he said, “I asked Nie about his prospects and sent a request this morning.”

In the cold air of early spring and with his betrothed’s clear attempts at being social despite distress, Nie could not find it in him to protest the arrangement. He did, however, continue to drink faster than was wise.

“By the Six,” Dahm snickered, “You lucked out, Nie.”

That was about the time Shasol finally appeared, smile strained as he said, “Good evening, I’m Greater Marquis Shasol Imehn, Abuin’s valet. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The group bowed from their seats, as was proper after the initial standing bow upon entry.

Nie was prevented from rising by Abuin, so sighed and said, “Your Grace, these are the members of the Rabahni Miniature Aquatics Consortium and their spouses—our… still-current president, Marquis Derha Wesahn, and their wife, Asahl.”

Derha nodded with another nervous chuckle, “Shasol.”

Asahl inclined her head as well, “Cousin.”

That I did not know, Nie reflected, but then, the court could be a very small place—and marqual ranks were not so far apart.

“Earl Sohne Ehlem,” Nie went on.

“Your Grace,” she bowed her head.

“Greater Count Dahm Veshal,” Nie went in order of rank, of course.

Dahm raised his glass, “My husband and spouse both had prior engagements.”

“Countess Hahmra Imalah,” the human continued.

Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she nodded in acknowledgment.

“Viscountess Basahl Vehmra and her wives, Vehra and Vehn,” Nie was starting to feel the warm buzz of inebriation and honestly welcomed it compared to the heat from embarrassment. He added, “Vehra is the member.”

“Our husband stayed at home with the children,” Vehra nodded.

“Since it was his turn,” Vehn added nervously.

Basahl shook her head but took a drink rather than comment on the remark.

“And our honorary non-noble member, Denehn Evahn,” Nie concluded.

“Good evening,” Denehn nodded, “My father is inside with Lord Bahr—we’re the main distributors of Wahnera family wine and produce across the Northern Principality.”

Shasol nodded politely through the round of introductions—then sighed, “There is no saving Abby’s image at this point, is there?”