Between the bride and groom was a bronze chalice that was filled with sweet mead. It was yet another tradition for them to share from the same cup. Through their lives, it wouldn’t be the only thing they shared.

At first, Irene was feeling a bit shy about this. She and Henry had only ever shared a drink indirectly. However, as more of the sweet mead was drunk and their cup was filled again, she became more comfortable.

"Now this is a sight I’m more used to," Henry said as he observed a fiddler setting himself up in a corner to play music and entertain guests.

"Well, there weren’t any Sünstoian musicians available," Irene joked. "Y’know, being the fact that none exist any longer."

"That’s a shame. I would have loved to hear what it sounds like," he said.

"Maybe one day I’ll find more Sünstoian people," Irene responded more decidedly. "My grandmother always had a hard time believing they had all passed on. Instead, they likely left as she did to preserve their family lines."

Henry lifted her hand from where it sat next to their chalice on the table, and he gently kissed it.

"I’ll help you find them if they’re out there," he quietly promised.

Her mind was relaxed because of both the mead and Henry. She could only smile in response.

"We had better get eating soon," she insisted as her green eyes drifted towards the bonfire at the center of the practice yard. She then looked towards the house where Commander Lothian and Celia had disappeared to get the food.

Henry knew why Irene was being urgent.

Another one of the strange traditions was that the bride and groom needed to finish eating and dancing with one another before the fire burned out with no interference. They would shut themselves in the room they would occupy for the night. It was yet another tradition that insisted on fertility being the forefront of everything. Irene realized that this was because the Sünstoian people were so sparse. It was likely her ancestors felt this far before she ever lived it.

From the kitchen she grew up eating out of, Irene smelled a wonderful aroma as root vegetables were brought out on platters and put on their plates, something she never expected to see Commander Lothian do in her life. This dish was followed by wild game, which included venison and pheasant. It came from the very lands she explored practically every day of her childhood. The last platter brought out was fish caught from the rivers that went through her family’s land, as well as wild rice, herbed using plants from this valley. Already on the table were warm rolls of bread that were shiny from the butter spread over them after being freshly taken from the oven.

All in all, it was a feast that represented this north central region of Chemois and her deep roots that grew here. It was symbolic in the way that she felt she was showing Henry yet another side of herself until there was nothing left to flesh out. By the end of that day, he would know her inside and out. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.

With the food, Irene and Henry both kept drinking down the mead. Irene, in particular, felt her face get hotter and hotter the more she drank.

Since the two of them were at the end of their meal and plenty full, Henry offered his hand to his new wife.

"Then, shall we dance?" he asked. "It seems we aren’t the only ones feeling pressure because your father and mother keep glancing this way. I’m sure it’s to do with Peroda’s traditions that require the guests of the evening to dance first."

"I would love to," Irene responded, and she grasped her husband’s hand as he helped her to her feet, which she was feeling a bit unstable on.

As they got closer to the bonfire that was contained on all sides by stone, Henry pulled Irene closer, and they began to sway slowly to the music. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

It wasn’t the first time the two had danced. They had been afforded that during the Winter Solstice Banquets. However, it was the first time they had danced that meant so much to both of them. As they went on, enjoying themselves and each other, the surrounding world melted away at least for a moment. Their smiles were easy, and their entire focus was only on the other person.

After a while, Irene pulled the fur that was on her back a bit lower. The movement and proximity towards the fire were making her warm.

"I’m feeling rather hot," she admitted.

However, Henry had spent the last months paying attention to practically her every move.

After they began dancing again, he pulled her a bit closer, and she was eager to cuddle up to him because of how bubbly she felt. They weren’t the only two dancing anymore, as Commander Lothian and Celia, as well as Rochelle and Arne, joined them to take the pressure off.

"Maybe we should slow down on the drinking a bit," Henry whispered.

Irene looked up at him in surprise, curious at how he knew she was feeling a slight buzz, but then understanding that he really did know her so well. Tonight would be better for both of them if they weren’t completely drunk. She also didn’t want her first night with Henry as husband and wife to be tainted by a bad feeling in the morning because of all the sweet alcohol.

"You should dance with your mother," Irene insisted. "I want to cool off a bit."

After that, Henry danced with his mother, who had been in tears practically the entire afternoon and into the evening. He also asked Rochelle to dance with him, and that was when Arne asked Irene to dance with him as well.

The two of them had been a bit quiet with one another, but that was because it was hard to face such heavy emotions with people who felt them as equally as hard as you did.

The first thing Arne said after he and Irene were swaying to the slow music was, "I’m glad you chose Henry to be by your side right now. He’s a good man. He really cares about you."

It was yet another moment that Irene realized how much Arne had grown up. She hung onto his words, knowing he didn’t speak about serious things without meaning what he was saying.

"Thank you," Irene uttered. "I agree. He has been so supportive of the entire situation. I feel beyond lucky. But I also hope that you don’t hesitate to talk to me about whatever you’re feeling about everything, either. I am never too busy to listen to you, Arne. Not even my wedding would make me too busy."

Rather than saying anything, Arne instead stopped their dancing and gave Irene a hug. She patted his back as he squeezed her. It made a lump form in her throat, as if he must have been holding onto it for a long time. He really was taller than her now. There was no denying it as he leaned down to hug her.

She couldn’t imagine the burdens he was facing after being officially named the heir, and then the reality that he would be lorded before learning everything he needed. Everything in their lives was rushed because of how important their father was. But this was their duty, and neither one shied away.

Their hug ended, and Irene patted her brother’s cheek. She wished they had a few moments more, but that day wasn’t the day for it.

Irene was only barely back at her table when she heard her father from a short distance away say, "I would like... to dance with... my daughter."

His voice was hoarse. He was fading after trying to participate in Irene and Henry’s big day.

It all meant the world to Irene, more than she could ever say.