A/N:

Ajanti's-Apprentice: I've answered this on my tumblr, but I'll give the summary here: before the timeskip this chapter, Xander is 26, Ryoma/Camilla 25, Hinoka 23, Azura 22, Corrin 21, Leo 19, Takumi 18, Sakura 17, and Elise 15. I don't take "technically an adult" to mean an adult by our standards (it would mess with the timeline too much), just an adult by medieval standards, which is where the "14" came from.

Thank you, and yeah, Lilith loving food is based solely off how eating is all she does in MyCastle.

I actually should have mentioned what should have happened to the servant *facepalms* He was executed, since the only evidence they found placed the blame on him. He was in on the plot.

This is the longest chapters so far! And get ready everyone, 'cause it's ships and sap galore! With a bit of plot drama, ofc. But fluff everywhere.

The next five months pass as if in a blur for Azura, wedding preparations spinning together and blending in her head until suddenly, it's a week before and guests are starting to arrive in the castle.

It hasn't been all that, of course. She's noticed a few more accidents around Corrin—a broken balcony (he survived by shifting out his wings; fortunately for his reputation no one was around), a snake in the garden (it bit him, but the healers managed to get the poison out of his system quickly), an attack on the road to Xander's wedding (they beat off the bandits with ease). It terrifies her, that someone wants him dead and they don't know who, or where, or when they could strike. At least Anankos was something they could actually fight. Here, they have to wait for their spies to bring back intel.

So between that and wedding nerves, she feels like a wreck when the Hoshidan royal family arrives.

"There's something I'd like to ask you in private," she blurts out in the middle of greeting Ryoma and her other siblings. Azura winces as soon as it leaves her mouth, because that's terribly forthright, even for her. "Sorry. I am happy to see all of you, I've just…"

"It's fine," Takumi says, waving a hand. "We can tell when we aren't wanted." His tone is joking, though, and she exhales in relief. Smiling, Ryoma tilts his head up and follows Azura outside.

They walk atop the battlements. Castle Avalon is nested on top of a hill, so it affords a generous view of Elysium spread out below. To the east and west are the roads to Hoshido and Nohr; to the north, nothing but plains, but beyond them are the jagged peaks of the Bottomless Canyon in the distance. In the southern half of Elysium are the harbor and the ocean, the gulls circling overhead. The breeze carries the salty tang of the sea, and she stops to inhale it, loving the scent.

"I'd say you're doing quite well for yourselves," Ryoma says, stopping to admire the scenery as well. "You and Corrin have brought this country back in just under a year."

"Only with help from you and Xander," she points out. "You didn't have to offer your own resources, but you did. Without you, it wouldn't have been possible. So thank you, again."

"I couldn't well abandon my siblings, now could I?" Ryoma ruffles her hair like they're kids again, and she playfully rolls her eyes, enduring it with dignified poise. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Alright. Well, Valla's wedding ceremony is a lot different from Hoshido's. But there's one part that's the same. And there's the part where...um, where the bride's closest male relative walks her down the aisle and gives her away to the groom. So…Ryoma, would you be willing to do that?"

He goes very still, and for a moment she fears he's going to say no. The Hoshidan king turns away, rubbing an eye.

Azura frowns, trying to get a better look at her brother, but he keeps turning, not letting her get anything more than a periphery glance at his face. "Ryoma? Are you…crying?"

"No," he immediately denies, but his voice is suspiciously thick.

A smile twitches at her lips, and she has to bite back a giggle. Azura waits for him to compose himself, and after rubbing an arm across his eyes he turns back to her, smiling broadly. "I…Azura, I'd be honored. Thank you, sister."

He pauses, then adds, "Although I think it would have been more appropriate to give me more than a week's advance notice. I don't think we'll have enough time to practice all the proper movements and procedures."

"Well, rehearsals weren't due to begin until this week anyway, so there wasn't much point. It's the same thing as in Hoshido, really. Besides, I couldn't bear to miss the sight of you tearing up."

"I was not crying," he insists as they start to walk back. "I merely got some dust in my eye."

"Whatever you say, brother."

This is how the day of the wedding starts:

Azura is woken unceremoniously early by Felicia yanking her covers off, cheerfully sing-songing that it's her wedding day and they need to get ready. She is ushered, still bleary-eyed and yawning, into the royal bathhouse for the traditional Vallite wedding bath, a rite performed on the day of the wedding to purify the bride and groom.

"Why am I up so early?" Azura mumbles as Felicia and Mozu push her into the room.

"Because your hair is massively long, Lady Azura, so we'll need an extra hour to wash, clean and dry it!" is the maid's chirpy reply, holding out a towel for the princess's modesty as she mechanically changes out of her nightgown. Azura wraps herself in it and stumbles to the water's edge.

"The sun isn't even up—gods that's cold," she yelps, yanking her foot back out. It feels like stepping into a bucket of ice. She likes the cold, but not even she likes her water that cold.

"It's to keep you from falling back asleep," Mozu says helpfully. "Now please get in, milady, time is of the essence."

Azura grumbles, but does so, not even bothering to hide her grimace. She sits there shivering as her two friends bustle around, washing her hair and lathering it with scented shampoos. But not even she can maintain a grumpy demeanor in the face of Felicia's chatter, and is soon drawn into slow, still somewhat sleepy conversation.

Two hours later, in his room on the other end of the castle, Corrin's retainers go to wake him for his bath. Being a heavy sleeper, the king needs a bucket of cold water dumped over his head before he gets up. Following a pre-planned route, he's stumblingly escorted to the bath as Azura and her retainers leave it, the pair maneuvered so that they don't meet before the ceremony, as is proper.

He is half-asleep up until he steps into the bath.

"Why is the water so cold?" he yells, almost jumping out of it.

"Because we feed off your misery," is Silas's cheeky answer. Corrin rubs his hands along his arms and glares. "Just…toss me the soap."

"Oh no, milord, we need to wash you personally," Kaze says with a completely straight face, and Corrin honestly can't tell if he's telling the truth or just screwing with him. The ninja can be a bit mischievous, but usually not with his higher ups.

Jakob, bless him, takes pity on him. "Only your hair, Lord Corrin."

"Good," he mumbles, taking the soap from the butler's hand and glowering as the other two chuckle. "Having Camilla try to wash me during the war was embarrassing enough."

Meanwhile, back in her chambers, Azura sits at her dresser, a bit more alert, as Mozu struggles with brushing out the knots in her hair. Through her window, she can just barely get a glimpse of the courtyard below, where servants are running about to make preparations, Flora overseeing everything. The ceremony doesn't start until noon; guests won't take seats until an hour or two beforehand, but the entire castle feels as though there's not enough time.

"Your sisters are up!" Felicia tells her, bouncing back inside with the extra pins she'd gone out to fetch. A very relieved Mozu takes them and immediately starts applying them to Azura's hair, pinning up brushed sections to get at the rest. "They told me to tell you they'll be along to see you once they finish getting ready."

"How long will that take?" the songstress asks, wincing at a particularly sharp yank on her hair.

"A few hours?" Felicia guesses, tapping her lip. "There's four of them, but the maids are rotating—two on hair, two on makeup."

Lilith steps inside the room, a bundle of ocean blue fabric in her arms. "Lady Azura? Is your hair ready yet?" Her eyes widen when they see what lies before them. "You haven't even started putting her hair up?!"

"Not yet, sorry," Mozu calls, frowning deeply as she tugs painfully at a particularly stubborn knot. Small beads of water prick at the corner of Azura's eyes. "No offense, Lady Azura, but I think we underestimated the kind of beast your hair is."

"I sometimes underestimate it," she admits with a half-smile, half-wince. "Will you and Felicia have time to prepare yourselves?"

"Oh, we'll be fine!" Felicia assures her, joining Mozu with a comb in hand, bravely ready to leap into the battle taking place. "We can get ourselves ready while you pray."

"I've put the dress down over there," Lilith calls, and in her mirror Azura watches her head to the door, her braid swaying. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law has certainly bounced back from her poisoning; looking at her now, you'd never even know she'd been bedridden. "I'm going to get ready, then head back down to help Flora. See you at the ceremony!"

"Your brothers are up," Kaze informs Corrin as they return him to his room, still shivering from the cold. He shakes his wet hair out of his eyes and blinks at the ninja. "Thank you, Kaze. You and Silas should probably go get ready."

The two nod, bow and depart, leaving Jakob the only one to help him get ready. The butler brings over the wedding clothes, and Corrin automatically holds his arms away from his side to let Jakob start dressing him. His eyes drift to his floor-length mirror, where he can study his reflection—pale-skinned and pale-haired, save for the bright blue gleam of his dragonstone against his chest.

"Are you going to take that off?" Jakob asks, nodding at the necklace.

Corrin frowns. "No, I… don't know how safe it is. Just try to hide it beneath my tunic as best you can." A bit of resentment at still having to hide secrets, even if only from the populace and not his closest friends and love, gnaws at him, and he turns away, smoothing his face over.

"Very well, Lord Corrin."

Another two hours later, Azura lifts her eyes to the statue of the Dawn Dragon. She has never been particularly religious; she says the necessary prayers and offers the necessary thanks, but with no particular fervor. Perhaps knowing deicide was necessary to survive made her a bit less reverent than normal, and she quietly asks the dragon to forgive her, promising better service in the future.

At the same time, Corrin bows his head before the statue of the Dusk Dragon. He always found prayer comforting, just the knowledge there was something up there watching over him and protecting him. He hasn't done much of it lately, too conflicted over killing a god last year to pray to them, but it's reassuring to do so again.

It doesn't take long before his prayer derails into almost panicked rambling.

…help me be a good ruler…and a good husband…and let the ceremony go smoothly… oh please, please, please let the ceremony go smoothly, don't let me forget my lines or trip over myself or lose the ring or…

After the required hour of prayer, Azura rises from her kneeling position. Felicia holds out the final article of clothing, a veil, and she complies, tying it on and hiding the lower half of her face. Then they exit the chapel.

Her sisters are waiting outside, and Elise squeals and claps her hands when she sees her. "You look so beautiful, sis! Corrin's jaw is going to just drop!"

"Thank you," she murmurs, grateful the fabric of the veil hides her blush. Elise is wearing a pale pink dress with black lace in the shape of roses, her long blonde hair tied into a high ponytail, the purple strands adding a bit of color and making it pop. "You look lovely yourself. All of you."

"Don't be modest, dear," Camilla chuckles. She looks stunning in her dress of pale periwinkle, her hair gathered on top of her head in a fancy updo. Only her bangs are familiar, still sweeping over the left side of her face. "It's your wedding day—it's all about you! So bathe in all the praise!"

"She's never been the type for that," Hinoka says with a grin. She and Sakura are clad in matching red, white and gold kimonos; Hinoka's is embroidered with patterns of cranes, and Sakura's—of course—with cherry blossoms. "Mother hated how she always wanted to spend her birthdays alone. She wanted to spoil us all rotten."

The mention of the departed queen brings a lump to Azura's throat. Mikoto really had been so good to her. She wishes she could be here. She wishes her mother could be here too. She hopes they're happy, wherever they are, and that maybe they're watching her and Corrin and smiling.

"C-Come on," Sakura says, extending her hand with a smile, "Ryoma's waiting, and after him Corrin."

On the other end of the castle, Jakob taps Corrin softly on the shoulder to inform him the time has come. The half-dragon exhales and slowly rises from his kneeled position, taking from the butler the heavy, ornate crown he'd worn at his coronation. He puts it on and sways under the weight, briefly off-balance before quickly recovering. Thankfully he won't have to wear it the whole time, just during the vows, after which he can replace it with the usual lighter circlet.

He emerges. His brothers sans Ryoma are waiting for him, looking sharp. Xander and Leo are both clad in black-and-gold doublets, and each has a purple cape with the royal insignia of Nohr hanging off one shoulder. Takumi stands with his arms crossed in a blue and white kimono, the royal insignia of Hoshido patterned in a darker blue across the obi. He knows Ryoma will be in a similar outfit, only in red and white.

"The guests have all arrived," Leo informs him. "It's time for the ceremony to begin."

"Are you ready?" Xander asks, ever the concerned elder brother. "It's okay to be nervous. Gods know I was."

Right. Corrin had never seen Xander look so anxious as he had at his own wedding, the crinkle between his eyes deeper than ever and his hands tapping a frantic rhythm against his thigh. The memory makes him chuckle, releasing some of the tension building in his chest. He inhales and resists the urge to wipe his sweaty palms against his pants. "Yeah. I'm ready."

If it weren't for Ryoma's arm in her hand and the promise of Corrin at the end, Azura is quite certain she would be running away as thousands of eyes automatically turn to her. The sea of expectant gazes reminds her too much of Nohr's court, the scornful way they looked upon her, and she has to stop and breathe.

But then she straightens her shoulders, lifts her head, and takes the first step down the aisle. She is Princess Azura Rheos of Valla, Hoshido and Nohr, to be Queen of Valla. She has fought a war and sung using her own life force and helped kill a god. She can handle her social anxiety.

"You're doing good," Ryoma breathes in her ear, knowing this particular fear of hers. The wedding is indoors, but the aisle is not. It's long, beginning at the castle gates, weaving through the grounds, and leading to the entrance itself; it takes them almost ten minutes to traverse it, moving at a slow pace to allow everyone to see her.

The castle's doors set the backdrop for where the ceremony will occur; when the ceremony is over, they will open and everyone will feast in the grand hall. The priest is waiting outside, the Hoshidan royals lined to his left, the Nohrians to his right, and directly in front of him is Corrin. He looks so regal, so dashing, in black and gray and gold, a white cape around his shoulders and touching the ground. It makes her heart skip a beat, and she almost trips over her feet. Her face burns; surely everyone saw that. She has never been more grateful for the veil. I must appear like such a fool.

I must be gaping like an idiot, Corrin thinks as he watches Azura gracefully make her way toward him. But what man wouldn't? She's a vision in shades of blue, the fabric tight around her chest and then draping down like waves around her feet. A cape in the same color trails from the back of the dress. Her hair is twined in some amazing-looking braid around her head, showing off her neck and her mother's pendant around it. The veil covering the lower half of her face only emphasizes her beauty.

His stomach is a knot of nerves and anticipation. It makes his dragonstone burn against his skin, beneath his clothes. Ryoma finally leads the songstress up to him and breaks protocol to give her one last hug. He whispers something in her ear, then steps away and takes his place with the other Hoshidan royals. Azura places one slender hand in Corrin's.

"Hi," he breathes.

He can't see beneath her veil, but the crinkling around her eyes tells him she's smiling. "Hi."

The priest begins to recite the words, but Corrin barely pays them any mind, his eyes unable to break from Azura's, minutes blending together until she subtly squeezes his hand, informing him it's time to speak. The vow tumbles from his lips easily. "I, Corrin of Houses Minamoto and Aurelius, take you, Azura Rheos, to be my wife. I take you as you are, accepting and loving every part of you. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

She follows it. "I, Azura Rheos, take you, Corrin of Houses Minamoto and Aurelius, to be my husband. I take you as you are, accepting and loving every part of you. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

Then he reaches and unties the veil from her face. His hands are shaking so much he's amazed he's able to slide the ring, gold with a diamond flanked by sapphires, onto her finger with accuracy. But it's done, and the people applaud, and the priest is speaking again, and he barely has the patience to wait for the proclamation before he swoops in and kisses her.

The reception has been going on for two hours now, and will likely be keeping up steam for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. In Nohr and Valla, royal weddings are huge, and royal parties are huge. Alcoholic beverages are passed out almost immediately. There's a tremendous banquet: roast pigs stuffed with sage and onion; grilled octopus lathered in butter; cheese wheels the size of a buckler; steamed rice and vegetables; sushi made of only the finest quality fish; dozens and dozens of rolls of bread; honey-mustard eggs; and a wide variety of fruits. The wedding cake is surrounded by other desserts, tarts and cookies and puddings and mochi. Portions are carted outside the castle, where the commoners are sitting and having their own lesser celebration.

Lilith insists on eating everything off Corrin and Azura's plates before they do. There was just too much food to make for only his trusted servants to be in charge of the cooking. At first they'd fought when she'd brought the idea up; he very much did not want her getting poisoned again, and been quite adamant about it. She'd countered by asking if he wanted to be responsible for traumatizing Azura by dropping dead on their wedding day.

That had ended the argument pretty much on the spot, though he still shoots the food she eats glares, as if each bite personally offends him.

Elise and Sakura work in unison, creating beautiful music of all cultures with their violin and koto. It's a stringed symphony of beauty, and even the most arduous of Nohrian- or Hoshidan-haters would have to admit it. The wedded couple gets the first dance, seeming to float across the floor, so caught up in each other they may as well be the only ones in the world. And then the rest of the guests join them.

Felicia can't hide the way she beams as Kaze makes his way to her, ignoring the sultry glances shot his way by several nearby noblewomen. She's not a fool—she knows she's cute at best, nowhere near as beautiful as the women who lavish attention on him, and clumsiness quickly stops being endearing. But he has eyes only for her, and it just lights this happy little sun in her chest.

"A-Are you sure?" she double-checks, just in case, as he takes her hands in his and gets in position to dance. "I have two left feet…"

"I'm told I have two right feet," he counters with his soft smile, "so I suppose we can balance each other out."

He's lying, of course. Like all ninja, he's quick and graceful, leading her through the dance with ease. But it makes Felicia feel better nonetheless. As for him—if she does step on his toes a bit too often, well, the sight of her smiling so brightly, flecks of snow hovering in the air around her, is such a lovely sight that he doesn't mind.

Silas can't help but notice that while Mozu is a good dancer, she seems too stiff. Her brow is furrowed, and she appears to be concentrating so much on the proper footwork she's not actually enjoying what's going on.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry," she sighs. "I've spent the past month of so trying to learn how to dance like a noble from your ma, and I can barely remember it all. I'm much more at ease doing my hometown dances."

"Well, we could do those instead," he says with a chuckle. He hates seeing her look so down on herself, and he wants her to have fun. He wants her to feel as beautiful as she is to him.

She only looks skeptical at his words. "I don't think they're appropriate…too informal, your ma would say."

"It's a wedding, isn't it? A happy place? What could be more appropriate?"

So Mozu laughs and takes his hands, and guides him through the steps of a rambunctious country dance that has several nobles glancing their way and clucking their tongues. Lady Chalon rolls her eyes, but with the exasperated fondness of a mother too used to her son's behavior.

Elise loves how much taller Ryoma is than her. It puts her head right against his chest, where she can hear the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. And he's always really warm, as if a bit of Raijinto burns inside him. Sometimes she's at risk of falling asleep if they cuddle or embrace for too long.

She looks up at him as they dance, smiling, which disappears when she sees the pensive look on his face. "What is it?" she asks.

He doesn't answer for a moment, still gazing about the party. "Do you think our wedding will be as joyous as this?" he finally asks after a pause.

Elise frowns, knowing what he means. The Hoshidans hadn't exactly been happy when Ryoma announced his intentions to marry her, a Nohrian. They'd been so unhappy that Saizo reported hearing rumors of demonstrations, uprisings and the like. Just rumors, but the mere existence of such things is distressing enough.

"I'm sure it will," she reassures him. "They just need some more time to get used to the idea."

She does not add that she herself wonders how much time the Hoshidans need, and whether they can afford it.

Ryoma nods, seemingly willing to just believe in that for now, and drops his chin onto the top of her head. When the song ends, she reluctantly separates from him and returns to the orchestra. Sakura gives her a small smile as she leaves—before the wedding they had made an agreement that they would swap every five songs or so, so they could each get time dancing. Elise settles in her seat, picks up her violin, and begins the next song.

The pink-haired princess has barely set her foot on the dance floor before Leo appears before her, bowing low and extending a hand. "You look lovely as always, Princess Sakura. Would you do me the honor of a dance?"

She's quite certain her face turns as red as Hinoka's hair—Leo is so…so courteous and romantic without being pompous, and it leaves her marveling at how lucky she is to have him—but a smile splits her face as she places her hand in his. "I w-would like nothing less."

He rises, his brown eyes twinkling and that small, reserved smile she's one of the few permitted to see tugging at his lips. "Excellent. I took the liberty of studying several Hoshidan wedding dances beforehand. I'm still a novice, so you'll have to help me..."

Sakura laughs, and then she's swept away, and stops thinking to enjoy the sensation of Leo's arms around her and the fun in dancing with him.

Normally Flora would be sitting by herself alone at a table, envy gnawing on her heart and a cup of cold wine in hand as she watches everyone else have fun. But now, she's spinning on the floor, leaving trails of snowflakes in her wake, with the man she's been in love with for so long.

She still feels as if she's dreaming sometimes. She'd been so nervous when she'd gone to confess to Jakob, the temperature around her had dropped twenty degrees. But as soon as the words were out, she felt lighter. Reject or accept, that weight was off her chest; she didn't have to carry it alone anymore. And gods, when Jakob had accepted her feelings… She'd summoned up a euphoria-fueled blizzard on the spot.

"I've been thinking." His voice pulls her out of her thoughts, and she blinks, looking up at him. "About the future."

Part of her wants to scream and squeal and is this a proposal? The rest of her slaps that part and tells it to shut up, they've only been courting a few months. "What are your thoughts?"

His steely gray eyes soften. "I've been thinking about my future in Lord Corrin's service. I won't lie—he will always be important to me, and I will always be loyal to him. But you've become important to me too. And it wouldn't be fair to keep you here when you want to go home."

Her heart is beating so loudly in her chest, she's amazed those nearby can't hear it. "Jakob, what is this? I thought…" She trails off.

"Lord Corrin implied, in his tactful way," which meant he'd outright told him, "that perhaps I should consider other options than staying in his service. At first I was ready to protest, but he pointed out that you could probably use a vacation, couldn't you? And perhaps…I could come with you. Just to see what your home is like."

Flora wishes very much then that moments could be captured and hung on the wall, to be looked at and preserved perfectly forever. But they can't, so instead she nods speechlessly and commits herself to memorizing the floaty feeling in her stomach and the swell of the music and Jakob's hand burning against her hip.

Gunter makes sure to keep his head down to hide his face as he makes his way through the crowd. He can't face Corrin here, yet, either. He's not ready. But he still couldn't miss this occasion. No one would let a hooded man into a royal wedding, so he'd had no choice but to go without. But he can at least make sure he's not noticed, and in a crowd this thick it's not too hard. The table for receiving gifts is outside only so both nobles and commoners can present offerings, and under heavy guard. Thieves would not be treated kindly.

Hunching his shoulders and adding a hobble to his step, he presents the package in his hands, humble. The guard takes it, waving a hand and muttering a quick spell to check for any form of dark magic on it. It passes muster, and he returns it to Gunter, gesturing for him to go ahead.

He bows his head in thanks. Quietly, he leaves his wedding gift among the rest and turns away. As he does he catches sight of the dance within the castle.

Gunter pauses, watching Corrin spin Azura in his arms, looking happier than he's ever seen him. The sight reminds him of his own wedding—not as grand as this, but no the less happy—and he smiles, bittersweet.

Trouble is brewing, son. Gods be willing, maybe I can have a hand in stopping it and making up what I did to you.

And then he takes his leave, unnoticed.

Two more hours pass. Amidst the partying, Laurel weaves throughout the crowd with purpose, slipping past the watchful guards' eyes in a dress just bright enough to pass for nobility. As a commoner she shouldn't be allowed at the wedding at all, or at least not in the areas for the upper class. The spectacles help, she imagines—not a lot of commoners can afford glass.

She doesn't have anything against the king personally, she truly doesn't. But she has had too many bad experiences with dragons to let one live, much less rule. She was just a young teenager when Valla fell, but she can still recall the terror of watching the land rend itself apart, of seeing the dead walk and Anankos's massive form blot out the sun. She can still recall the grueling twenty years of living under a mad tyrant, the hate and fear and resentment that threatened to swallow her every time she bowed her head. She'd served him only to preserve her own life, not out of any loyalty, and been among those who rejoiced at his death.

Laurel shakes the memories out of her head and returns to what she's here for. As she finishes planting her rumors in the ear of a skeptical-looking Nohrian lady—"Rumor has it the king's father was a dragon. A dragon! Can you imagine such a terrifying beast leading us? A frightful image, is it not?"—her eye is caught by a familiar obese form in a spectacular white-and-red kimono. Excusing herself, she makes her way to him. "How fare you, Lord Jiro? I wasn't expecting to see you here, to be honest."

"The king invited me," Lord Jiro sniffs, swallowing another round of sake, "as a token attempt to smooth things over, seeing as his spy hasn't dug anything up."

Her green eyes scan the area for the ninja. "Where is your shadow, by the way?"

"He slipped off for a minute, probably to report to a superior. I expect he'll be back soon." Lord Jiro glares at her with beady eyes. "Perhaps in that time you can explain your…lack of success?"

She has attempted several more assassinations, none of which have been successful. Part of it can be blamed on the lower quality of her methods—without Lord Jiro's finances, she couldn't afford the best—and part of it can just be blamed to sheer bad luck. A wedding like this offered another opportunity, but she was loathe to take it. It would be cruel to kill him on his wedding day. Not to mention the presence of the Hoshidan and Nohrian royal families complicated things—if the attempt went wrong, they could very well choose to get involved, and that was the last thing she needed.

"Lack of sufficient quality, which I might remind you happened because you had to cut me off your funds after your guest's visit. So I've decided to try a different tactic. You'll be pleased to know I've had several interesting conversations with some of your fellows already. They'd be willing to invest in our project."

"Really? That's good to hear. Who are these potential investors?"

She breathes the names in his ears. His eyes widen, then narrow, and he scowls. "Nohrians."

"Don't be so fast to dismiss them just yet. The king has allies on both sides; so must we." She's certain he can see the irony in having to side with Nohrians to rid the country of Nohrians. At the very least she appreciates it.

Before he can respond, their chat is interrupted by a Nohrian duke stepping up, giving Jiro a barely-courteous nod. "My lady." He bows to her and extends a hand. "Would you care to dance with me?"

Laurel smiles sweetly and puts her hand in his, curtsying deeply. She's spent enough time observing and calculating to imitate something close to a noble's mannerisms. "Of course."

Lord Jiro doesn't say farewell as she follows the duke onto floor. As they start to dance, he remarks, "I don't believe I've seen you before. What house do you come from, if I might inquire?"

"I'm just a distant cousin of the Leyens." The Leyens had been involved in some assassination scandal with King Garon some twenty years back, and never quite recovered their reputation; many of them no longer showed their faces in public now, so there were very few who could see through the lie.

The duke, recognizing the dangerous territory he's stepping into, tactfully changes the subject. "Ah. Well. This is a lovely wedding."

"It is." Almost instinctively, her eyes drift to the king and his new bride, dancing together, their heads low and mouths moving. At this distance she can't read their lips.

Enjoy the peaceful moment I've granted you, Your Majesty. You won't have many more of them.

Turning her attention to her partner, she fixes on a bright smile and begins, "You know, I've heard the most dreadful rumor about the king…"

Kaze is taking a break, watching Felicia and her sister dance together, when a lithe form drops down next to him, deceptively casual to an onlooker.

Tough, cocky, and in his mid-twenties, Akiyama Haru had been one of the first soldiers to join Corrin's army during the war. He'd been part of Takumi's captured forces, freed with the rest when Corrin came and faithfully following their lord into battle. He hadn't been part of the small, elite squad that made up Corrin's personal forces, but he'd been one of the higher ranking soldiers in the main army, a trusted scout and vanguard. Like all the forces in Valla's current standing army, his house had been among the given territories, and so he'd stayed. His history and reliability were the main reason Corrin had chosen him for the spy job.

"Any news?" Kaze inquires quietly.

"None. He's been pretty angry about hosting me the past few months, but he seemed placated at receiving an invitation to the wedding." The ninja glances back over his shoulder—not so obviously with a turn of his head, but just subtly shifting his body and eyes. "I left him alone to see what he'd do with the opportunity, but I still don't want to be away long."

Clever, if risky. But then that was Haru in a nutshell. Never the type to settle for the bird in the hand, he'd let it go so he could try to track it back to its nest in the bush. Not Kaze's thing, but Haru was the one on the job, not him. "You're certain he has no link to the recent attempts on the king?"

"Positive. I've tracked all his letters, watched his funds, paid off a couple of the servants, hung out with the locals—he's clean. As clean as a politician can be, anyway."

Nothing, then. The exact same nothing Haru had been reporting for months. Kaze rubs his chin, wondering if their fear of noble conspiracies has caused them to read too much into things. Maybe an angry servant was just an angry servant.

"Thanks for doing this on such short notice, especially with your new son," he sighs, "Lord Corrin really needed someone he trusted for the job, and the list of qualified people was pretty short. I can't do it because I have to manage all the information from our agents…"

"Hey, it's no problem." With the formalities over, Haru relaxes and waves a hand, a confident smirk on his face. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him, but…well, you needed the best. And that's me."

"We can pull you out, if you want. It's been several months with no sign of…"

But Haru shakes his head, a deep frown tugging at his mouth. Kaze studies him closely. "You suspect something."

There's a moment of silence between them, in which the melody of Elise's violin and the drunken rambunctiousness of the crowd ring louder. "There's nothing concrete," the black-haired man finally says, "but it's just…instinct, you know? That feeling you get whenever you step into a place and it's trapped."

Kaze knows that feeling well. The prickling at his skin, the tugging in his gut, the instinctual sense of wrongness that all ninja are trained to pay attention to. He'd ignored it once, in Cheve. He hasn't ignored it since.

Still, he checks, just to be sure. "You said there was nothing."

"That's the thing. There is nothing. Too much nothing. No plotting at all, not even against other nobles—and if there's one thing I know about us nobles," Haru adds, with a jab of his finger, "it's that we love to plot against each other. There's so much nothing it goes right back around to being suspicious."

"If you're right—"

"I always am—"

"Then keep watching him. Investigate, but don't put yourself in danger."

"So just keep doing what I'm doing. Can do." Haru snaps off a salute, then snatching up a sushi roll makes his way back to Lord Jiro in a way that looks completely casual while still being purposeful.

The rabble doesn't begin to disperse until the sun is kissing the horizon, its rays turning the lake outside flame-gold. A good amount of the remaining crowd is too drunk to notice the king and his new queen rising, but those who aren't send up a cheer.

"Go get 'er, brother!" Takumi slurs, swaying in his seat and raising what must be his fifth or sixth cup of sake in toast. Next to him Hinata is completely conked out, snoring loudly, while Oboro mumbles something about fabrics and measurements.

"Go to sleep, Takumi!" Corrin shouts back, wishing his skin didn't blush so easily as Azura muffles a snort. His head has a pleasantly warm buzz from the alcohol, though he hasn't drunk more than two cups. Passing out on his wedding night would be something he would never live down.

Azura barely has time to give him a smile before Felicia and Mozu swarm her, hurrying her off to help her out of the dress. Leaving the sounds of the party behind, Corrin heads off by himself to their chambers. Once his chambers, refurbished during the wedding to share Azura's possessions. His eyes stray to the new bed, large and cushy and very prominent.

The half-dragon tugs at his collar, wondering when it got so warm. Unclasping his cape, he tosses it over a chair and drops onto the bed. Wonders whether he should finish getting undressed and decides not to. So he waits, trying not to fidget.

It feels like an eternity before Azura stumbles inside, shooting a glare at the feminine giggles behind her. "I think they've had too much to drink," she sighs as the door closes, making her way towards the bed. "They wouldn't stop making raunchy jokes."

She sits next to him, and he's immediately distracted by the way her dress hikes up as she crosses her legs. Her hair is down and she's wearing just a nightgown, and there's a lot of skin, and he should stop staring, probably. Then he remembers that she's his wife and he's allowed to stare now. So he does, drinking in her form with relish, and when he looks back up at Azura he's a bit gratified to see that she's blushing as much as him.

Now if he could just figure out what to say to really set the mood… "Some wedding, huh?" Really, Corrin? This is how you start? Really?!

Fortunately his stupid comment makes her giggle. "Some wedding. The bride looked very happy."

"Well, the groom looked very happy, too." He sighs. "I'm sorry, I should be making this romantic, but I have no idea what I'm doing. I've never…um…"

"That's okay," she interrupts with a small, nervous smile. "That makes me glad, actually. I haven't either. It means we can share this with only each other."

"Yeah," he breathes, unable to look away from her golden eyes, mesmerizing in the light. "I'm glad for that too."

That's right. There's no need to rush. They're married now; they have the rest of their lives to get things right. That thought calms him significantly. She's his and he's hers, and that won't ever change.

She smiles again, and gods, he loves her so much he can't put it into words. So he doesn't try, pulling her close and kissing her as deeply as he can instead.

A/N: I had so much fun coming up with the customs and culture for the wedding. World-building is fun.

The custom of bathing before the wedding was pulled from ancient Greek wedding rites. Normally it's only the bride who does that, but equality. Praying before the wedding was also from ancient Greek culture.

Azura's wedding dress is blue because in medieval times, that was actually the color the bride wore, not white! Also because she wears white so much I wanted to change it up. Her veil is basically the veil she wears in her dark songstress outfit, and also something Greek women wore to weddings.

The wedding vows are slightly modified versions of Catholic wedding vows, partially because they're what I'm used to, partially because I drew massive blanks every time I tried to write custom ones.