"Yes. Permission granted."
The burly man bowed and retreated, casting a wary eye on the wine goblets that were full as he departed. His gaze lingered on the Naris and the Ameyas, and narrowed when it reached Kenzo. Gou Tuen stopped, spoke to two servants near the door, then disappeared.
Saemon turned his attention back to the table, Kenzo in particular.
Kenzo's earlier joviality had changed to a look of deep concentration. He played with the stem of his wine glass, but didn't drink. The straight cut of his shoulders, pulled back against the chair, seemed oddly at large with the occasional, fix smile on his face.
Saemon’s mind became busy. The Ameyas were known for their love of drink of all kind. Celebrations with the Ameya clan usually gave way to raucous celebration. Everyone knew that.
Saemon straightened, then dismissed these thoughts.
So many visitors. So many political alliances. Surely he was just imagining things. The Ameya clan was likely respecting the nature of this gathering and refraining from drinking too much in order to maintain control, something he appreciated right then.
Gou Tuen led the way from the door again, flanked by servants bearing platters laden with desserts. The rest of the servants moved around the table, whisking away empty plates, refilling empty goblets, and preparing the attendees for more delicious food.
The heady scent of lemon swept through the air as Gou Tuen presented his culminating dish of the evening: a tiered cake with lemon-and-honey icing and stuffed with small balls of sugar meant to dissolve in the mouth of the taster with delicate sweetness. Icing swept about the sides of the cake in a grand pattern, highlighted with yellow streams of color.
Those at the table cast a long sigh of approval.
"This cake," Gou Tuen said, addressing the newlyweds, "is in honor of your coming together. The tartness of the lemon and the sweetness of the honey are so different, but together, so perfect."
Isao and Ren inclined their heads in a proper acceptance.
Gou Tuen stepped back, admiring his offering with a proud smile.
Yuna wrinkled her nose. She drew back slightly, turning her head to the side.
Saemon accepted a piece of the renowned lemon-and-honey cake, then tuned his ears into the conversation around him as the talk at the great feast passed from excited chatter into gentle murmurs.
He observed that Isao stared glumly at his half-full plate. Despite the feast featuring many of his favorite dishes, Isao had eaten very little. Saemon made a mental note to talk to him later.
One by one, the attendees began to fall quiet, many drawing into their own thoughts. Gavan began to snore softly against his chair while Tieng continued to discuss a new knife with a representative from the Horalu clan on his right.
Saemon cleared his throat and straightened out of his seat. The whole room fell silent, all eyes on him.
"Guests," he said, spreading his hands, "I thank you for attending the wedding ceremony, and for your gracious attendance tonight. It has truly been a historical day, and I look forward to future relations with the Nari clan."
Those in the Nari clan, Ren included, slightly bowed their heads. Saemon collected a deep breath.
"Now, let us call this day to a close. As our custom dictates, Ren and Isao will end the feast by withdrawing to their separate rooms where they will spend a final night apart to prepare themselves for their new life, rid themselves of uncleanliness, and start with fresh, clean hearts."
A low murmur of approval rippled through the crowd. Ren bowed her head, her cheeks coloring at the top, while Isao's nostrils flared. Saemon let the observations pass. His eyes fell on the glittering blue jar between Ren and Isao.
"As a thank you to our friends in the Ameya clan, I will have the servants burn the jars to seal the new, budding relationship between our clans and bring us a peaceful sleep. Good night."
Saemon sat back down. The low chatter turned into a buzz as Ren rose, and her maids instantly flocked to her side.
Isao got up to stand next to his bride. The long expression on his face likely meant that he just wanted to sleep.
Isao and Ren moved through the room together, speaking quietly with those they passed. Ren walked with a slow, easy grace, her dress fluttering slightly as her maids trailed behind her.
The newlyweds stepped into the hall and parted, going their separate ways.
The dining ball came back to life as a troop of dancers glided into the hall, the bells attached to their ankles tinkling with every step they took. The quiet trill of a lute warbled in the background, low and quiet to lull those in the hall to sleep.
Saemon detected a faint scent in the air, almost like juniper. He glanced over to see a servant set a jar of powder on the table nearby. Dhul powder.
A few seats away, Kenzo stood.
"Kenzo," Saemon called, leaning forward, "you must stay for the traditional parting dance. It is a long-celebrated custom to bring peace and deep sleep to those in attendance."
A tired smile stretched across Kenzo's face. He stifled a yawn. "Alas, but an old man like me needs no help getting rest."
"Surely you wouldn't circumvent tradition," he said in a wary tone.
"I am too tired for more excitement and art tonight, Sheng Saemon. My gratitude for thinking of me, but I shall fall asleep very deeply on my own."
Without another word, Kenzo strode away, cutting across the marbled floor to reach the hallway as fast as possible. Saemon watched him go through the light smoke trailing up from the burning jars of blue powder.
"This was a beautiful celebration, Sheng Saemon." The light, easy voice came from Yuna of the Nari clan. Her long red hair glinted in the light as she executed a perfect curtsy, bowing low. When she rose, her intelligent eyes met Saemon’s. "Thank you."
Before Saemon could respond, Yuna slipped away, moving like a feather through the wind as she departed the hall without another word. Saemon shifted, straightening, but stopped.
Azuma, also of the Nari clan, was beckoning for a servant with a twitch of his finger. When the man approach, he murmured something in the man’s ear. Then he too rose and departed, swinging in a wide berth around the dancers.
The hair on the back of Saemon's neck stood up. Something wasn't right.
Other Nari attendees now stumbled to their feet, yawning as they left the hall to seek out the guest houses in the garden courtyard. Others still milled around, their glassy eyes entranced by the graceful dance.
When the dancers left as swiftly as they had arrived, those still lingering quietly applauded, then moved away from their chairs. Within minutes, the dining hall lay nearly empty, save for a tall man that stood halfway down the table. Saemon lifted a hand, gained the man’s attention, and motioned for him to approach.
Khalem, the general in charge of Saemon's army, was as tough as steel. He nodded once and approached confidently, with purpose. He immediately knelt on one knee at Saemon's side.
Saemon bit at the inside of his cheek.
Surely, if anyone could make Saemon feel better about what he had seen, it would be Khalem. His years as a mercenary proved his instincts, not to mention the deep river of history and trust that ran between them. Khalem would set him at ease or take care of the problem – if one existed.
"Sheng Saemon. I am here to serve you," the General said crisply.
"Something feels wrong to me, Khalem. Do you feel it? There's something . . . something not right tonight."
"Feel what?"
Saemon shook his head. "I observed many things during the dinner that…don't seem consistent."
As Khalem raised one eyebrow, one side of his black mustache lifted with it. "Please explain?"
"The Nari and Ameya clans didn't drink. Kenzo was especially tense. Yuna, Azuma, Kenzo – they all left early, right after Ren and Isao."
"I noticed," Khalem nodded affirmatively.
"Strange, isn't it?"
"Out of the normal, yes."
"Am I overreacting?"