“Before you make a decision, though,” Rahle said, grabbing the smaller bag and handing it over, “Here’s the smallest sample we have. You can take it with you to test at home. Should help you decide which version of the course you’re interested in.”

“Thank you,” Nie said, glancing in the bag to see the contents were discreetly wrapped. He put his own copy of the paperwork and the folder for Abuin in the bag as well, “Anything else I should know?”

Rahle hummed, “You’re very small, Nie. I know you’re strong—you couldn’t be a senior Full Hand otherwise—but I think sometimes you forget that.”

Nie drummed his fingers on the table, then pulled out the seal and set it on the table, “Master.”

Rahle huffed in surprise, picking up the seal to examine it, “Since when?”

“Just before I ran into you,” Nie sighed, sitting back, “Apparently, the Guildmaster had been putting in a bid for the past five years, and my upcoming nuptials convinced the board to… expedite the process.”

“Damn,” Rahle shook their head, setting the seal back down, “Want to get drinks?”

“Yes,” the human said emphatically, “Though not exactly to celebrate…”

His colleague laughed, “Well, despite the circumstances, I do think you’ve earned it—and I am at your disposal, my lord.”

Nie rolled his eyes at the address, “I was considering visiting some of my favorite merchants to make inquiries about the wedding. It is still quite early to begin drinking in earnest.”

“I wouldn’t mind tagging along if you want,” Rahle said, “I was only in to do some paperwork, so I really am free.”

“I welcome the company,” the human said, then sighed, “As much as I do believe I have made the right decision in accepting…”

“Even long-term lovers can find marriage daunting,” Rahle snorted, getting to their feet, “I know Semlah and I often felt overwhelmed, and ours was but a commoners’ wedding.”

Nie rolled his eyes, but smiled as he rose, “I can hardly imagine your wife being daunted by anything.”

His colleague chuckled, leading the way back out of the Guild Hall, “She is wonderfully formidable, is she not?”

“I wouldn’t mind if she came along as well—I have the family coach, so it would be little trouble to pick her up,” Nie said, waving as they passed Wahlem once more.

“A commoner like me in a noble carriage?” Rahle chuckled, “You honor me too much, my lord.”

Nie snorted.

“But thank you, no,” they said, “She has guard duty today, so I would have been home alone otherwise. I don’t suppose you’ve considered the guest list for your Engagement Announcement or wedding yet?”

The human sighed heavily, “Perhaps it would be wise to hold two Engagements…”

“Oh? Why is that?” Rahle teased.

“I wouldn’t want to inflict the nobles on my commoner friends,” Nie replied, “I value your friendship too much.”

They laughed, “I appreciate the consideration!”

Rahle was, indeed, a steadying presence as Nie started making rounds at his favorite establishments, finding more of their colleagues eating at the nearby restaurant that was his first stop.

“Nie, Rahle!” Weshal raised a glass, “Good afternoon!”

“Good afternoon,” Nie replied, both walking over. He’d left his bag and paperwork in the coach, one of the advantages of taking a private one rather than hiring transport.

Rahle clapped him on the shoulder, “Our local lord here has gotten engaged!”

Yehl choked on her food, taking a drink to clear her throat before asking, “What? When? To whom?”

“Yesterday, to Grand Duke Nehma,” Nie sighed. He’d intended not to mention it but supposed that had been a fool’s errand from the start.

“Congratulations!” Weshal laughed, “Are you here to celebrate, then?”

“No,” the human replied, “I thought I would see if Rohm would be interested in possibly catering the Engagement Announcement. Well… I may have two, but I’m gathering information for the Family Greeting Dinner.”

“Good idea,” Yehl cleared her throat a bit more, “Though a noble Engagement Feast might be a bit out of cer purview…”

“Perhaps,” Nie agreed, “But for now, it’s just information.”

“Well, good luck,” Yehl sighed, “Has Rahle talked you into an intimacy course yet?”

“I’m doing my best to,” Rahle laughed, “Invited myself on this excursion after my sales pitch.”

“I’m considering it,” Nie snorted, “If you’ll excuse me.”

Nie was glad to have Rahle at his side as he flitted from establishment to establishment—more restaurants and a few clothiers making up most of the afternoon. Rahle’s usual quick tongue helped keep the worst of his anxiety at bay as he spoke at length with various business owners, walking away with more paperwork, including the information that had been discussed. Those without figures on hand promised to send them to the Wahnera estate as soon as they were able—most were surprised to learn Nie was a nobleman at all.

Which was quite understandable—Nie found most noble clothes restricting, especially compared to his loose masseur clothes. When he was out in the Middle City, he preferred the looser style of clothing worn by merchants and commoners alike, and hardly carried his rank for simple shopping trips or meals with colleagues.

When he and Rahle entered his favorite bakery as the day’s last stop, they ran into Denehn.

“Ho, what’s this?” Denehn asked, a twinkle of mischief in her eye.

“Rahle, this is Denehn. Her father is a merchant that works with my grandfather,” Nie introduced, “Denehn, my coworker Rahle.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Rahle said, offering a hand palm up.

Denehn took it, and they shook in the usual Rabahni fashion, “Likewise.”

“Rahle has been accompanying me while I interview potential wedding merchants,” Nie went on, “This was the last one I intended to visit before turning in for the day.”

Denehn laughed, “Oh! I would love to see a Malikhan take on Rabahni Wedding Bread! I even have hope your betrothed will approve!”

The Ginger Cat Bakery was owned by a Malies-Forkhan couple that had immigrated to Rabahn several decades ago. The country of Malies was home to a large, stout bipedal people with stone-thick blue-gray skin and huge snouts taking up most of their face, which often made up for their poor eyesight. As did their wide, drooping ears.

Forkhan was a desert human nation bordering Malies, and the two were often skirmishing over the exact border of their lands. The owners of the Ginger Cat enjoyed coming up with romantic and adventurous tales of how they had met and fled their countries for a peaceful life in Rabahn, but no one knew which tale, if any, was true.

“You’ve met the Grand Duke?” Rahle grinned.

“Yesterday evening,” Denehn nodded, grinning herself, “The RMAC went to congratulate Nie at the estate, and he spent the entire evening in the Grand Duke’s lap.”

“Really?” Rahle chuckled, looking to Nie.

The human sighed, “My betrothed is a very physical person. And I did say it was comfortable with the contact prior to our arrival.”

“Oh, I doubt anyone could keep you in their lap without your permission,” Rahle snorted, “At least, not while carrying on a conversation…”

“That’s true,” Denehn agreed, “You’re very well versed in which spots cause the most damage, being a masseur.”

“That I am,” Nie agreed, then waved to them as he walked up to one of the proprietors.

“My favorite human Rabahni!” Jahaal, a human with skin the golden brown of a perfectly baked loaf of bread, greeted with a warm smile, “How can we help you today?”

“Good afternoon, Jahaal,” Nie replied, “I’ve recently gotten engaged and wanted to collect information on possible vendors for the wedding.”

“Yes!” Jahaal laughed, “We can have a sample of our special Malikhan Wedding Bread ready for you to take with you today! The Ginger Cat has been part of many Rabahni weddings, you see.”

“I’m sure you have,” Nie smiled—and he was. The bakery was located just inside the gate between the Middle and Lower Cities, and was considered a beloved local establishment by residents of both.

“But have you ever made a wedding bread for a noble wedding?” Rahle asked, leaning on the counter next to Nie.

“A noble wedding?” Yorka, Jahaal’s wife, asked as she came up to the counter from the back oven. She stood at least ten feet tall and wore a brightly patterned dress common in her home country of Malies.

“I may have neglected to mention during my prior visits,” Nie sighed, “But I am a Baron - and I am engaged to a Grand Duke.”

“Well,” Jahaal laughed, “I was once a prince, and Yorka a chieftess—no one is perfect!”

Nie chuckled, “Thank you for your understanding.”

“I thought you were a king?” Denehn snorted.

“And Yorka was the dancing jewel of Malies,” Rahle added.

“Perhaps I was, perhaps she was,” Jahaal shrugged, “I am an old man now, and my memory is not what it once was, young lady. You will understand when you are old and infirm as I am.”

Yorka merely leaned down to kiss the top of her husband’s turban, smiling in gentle amusement.

Nie shook his head in amusement, and the rest of the interview proceeded smoothly, and as promised, he left with samples. Despite his protests that they would be deciding at a later date, the couple insisted—as a congratulatory gift.

As Abuin had not known his food preferences, Nie did not know Abuin’s. So while one of the breads was spiced the way Jahaal and Yorka usually made it, the other was a milder, more common sweetbread. After dropping Rahle off at their home, Nie returned to his own, sending the extra samples to the Nehma estate by messenger.

“You were out a while,” Bahr said, glancing up as Nie entered his study.

“The Guildmaster suggested visiting potential merchants to have options ready for the Family Greeting Dinner,” his grandson replied, “Rahle went with me.”

“Mm,” his grandfather hummed, “What’s that?”

“Wedding bread samples from the Ginger Cat,” Nie replied, pulling a few pieces of braiding off the main sample and onto a plate for Bahr, taking it over to the desk, “They insisted.”

“I’m sure the Grand Duke will have his own ideas,” Bahr replied. But his tail wagged as he pulled one of the pieces further apart to pop a bubble of braid into his mouth.

“I’m sure he will,” Nie chuckled, getting some bread for himself, “But it feels good to have some of my own arrangements available. I’m considering whether to have two Engagement Feasts.”

“What for?” his grandfather asked, clearly pleased with the snack. But then, he always was when his grandson brought Ginger Cat goods home.

“Because most of my coworkers are not nobles,” Nie replied, trying his own sample. It was heavier than traditional wedding sweetbread, and the spices made it more savory. But it was still delicious, as the human had known it would be.

Bahr hummed, “Yes, I see your point. They’ll probably want the announcement for nobles at the palace at this rate.”

“Really?” Nie asked.

“As grand as the Nehma Estate is,” his grandfather replied, “I’m not sure it could comfortably serve the entire court.”

“The entire…” Nie sighed, “Yes, I suppose it would be the entire court at this point…”

Engagement Feasts were considered open events, so one tended to prepare for the anticipated number of guests rather than an invited number. As such, nobles often held theirs at the estate of the higher ranking or more affluent of the betrothed—for the first marriage, at least. Secondary marriages tended to draw less fanfare, though it often depended on the preferences of the ones being married.

Nie reviewed all the figures from the various businesses he’d visited—his grandfather had worked with some in the past, even—over dinner with Bahr and Gahne. They sorted the lot into something more organized, and Nie headed to bed feeling at least a little accomplished. He hadn’t mentioned his sudden masterage yet and set the small badge representing it on his dresser. After staring at it for a bit, he put it in a drawer with a sigh—someone was sure to see it if he left it out, after all.

Then he turned to his… other objective for the night.