Patrizio has joined the Noble Pews.

The Cathedral looks nice! It's the Cathedral, it always looks nice. But it's been done up for the occasion of a wedding, so it looks extra nice, festooned as it is with greenery and spring flowers. The warm glow of candles provides light as afternoon tips toward evening, and a small group of good-natured bards provide music for ambiance. Seating for guests seems somewhat flexible, plenty of time for everyone to find a place to sit and someone to talk to. Ushers at the door are happy to help latecomers to a seat without fuss.

It's always music that starts things off, isn't it? Savio and Orland are not yet in evidence, but a slight shift in the tune from the musicians begins to convey the idea that the event is perhaps starting soon.


Gianna has joined the Quiet Alcove.

3 Thrax Guards, 1 Thrax Elite Guards arrive, following Jasher.

"Welcome."

The voice of Blessed Giada is warm as she takes her place at the altar, her usual raffish smile worn as she looks around the assembled witnesses. "When everyone has found their seat, we'll begin." She's dressed in liturgical aeterna, with gold and mirrorsilver that gleam softly in the lighting. She waits for a few minutes for everyone to settle.

"We are gathered as beloved friends and family to mark and celebrate a new marriage and all that this union entails. We celebrate for obvious reasons but, more importantly, we sit as witnesses to the words spoken before the gods and in which the trust of a people are placed. I charge you all to watch and listen, for your duty is sacred."

The Lenosian priestess' smile grows into a rakish grin. "I charge each of you also to enjoy yourself, for no one wants a Gloomy Gus at their wedding." She looks up the aisle. "Let us stand as the entended approach the gods." Her hand extends to motion two men forward.

Jasher has joined the Noble Pews.

Ian leans against a wall near the door, having found a place that, while out of the way, gives him a good vantage of both the door and the room at large. There's no escaping the fact that he looks a lot more like a bouncer or bodyguard than he does a wedding guest. He grips his cane casually, and looks down from time to time at the compass set into it. Hopefully he's out of the way enough to not Gloomy Gus all over the proceedings.

Apollo slips into the cathedral with, as one might expect, Lianne on his arm. In a very shiny gold jacket, too. He might, for those familiar with fauna of the Saffron Chain, resemble a very shiny gold beetle or something, if one were strange and given to such excellent sorts of praise. He walks tall, beaming with pride, only erring from such a tall stance to lean close and murmur something to his wife as they find their way to a pew.

Patrizio is present - how could he not be, as a Voice of Pravus - and making his way quietly and respectfully to a pew where he can be out of the way. His men left behind closer to the doors of the Cathedral, where they can keep a wary watch with all the other escorts who've come for the event. He offers a nod to those nearby in the pews with him, but those jade eyes are turned towards the front when he's hearing the voice of the Archlector enjoining all of them to make merry and delight, and he smiles, getting comfortable.

Raven rises as bidden. Should either Savio or Orland glance her way she'll offer a happy wave and beaming smile of encouragement.

Aedric Blackshore stands as directed by the Blessed, gauntleted hands stuffed neatly between breastplate and ribcage. The nod from Ian is politely returned before cerulean gaze shifts again toward the cathedral altar.

Gianna rises from her seat when bidden, hands clasped in front of herself.

Zakhar came early to deliver small tokens to both of the grooms for their individual wedding gifts. Then took up a seat in the corner where he's been in a deep conversation with some of the guards roaming the cathedral about why he should either have an open blade peacebound or not immediately available to eyesight. Which had a minor eruption over /EVEN TEACUPS/. He has since calmed down - some. And has managed to not completely fuck up his hair, even though it has decided to fritz out and keeping it in any manageable sense has been given up on. While a combination of his usual deep burgundy red, purple, and black. He is wearing nice clothing versus looking ready to battle.

Apollo has joined the Side Alcove.

Lianne has joined the Side Alcove.

Zoey has joined the Side Alcove.

Cesare drifts into the cathedral like a spring breeze, in an outfit which is notably thematically similar to Savio's, albeit far more muted in color. Enough to intimate there's a connection between himself and Savio, like he's somehow responsible for giving him away, except that's very stupid, because he, Savio, and Orland are all notably sans living parents. His expression is, as usual, placid, gentle, neutral; as he rises, he's keeping a weather eye on certain Proscipi Marquessas to ensure there is no immediate need for handkerchiefing.

Duarte is and has been here, as can be expected, one of the first to arrive. He's already well seated and looking on. Smiling.

Duarte has joined the Quiet Alcove.

Thea makes her way in quietly, heading directly to a pew. She's dressed quite blazonly for today, a small smile on her lips. She nods her head to people as she passes them, because manners and plesantries are always a must! Taking a seat, Thea offers a wink to those that are seated nearby.

Lianne, then, is the flora, dressed all in flowing green. Which admittedly clings more than a little at the front given her rather unmistakably gravid stated. Some things are very difficult to hide after a certain point. Following Apollo's quiet murmur, to which she nods, grin tilting slightly impish, she looks off to the side, away from pews she might need to squeeze into, favoring a quiet alcove with familiar faces.

Caprice has come alone but she's not shy about greeting those who end up seated nearby, soft conversation ending comfortably as the ceremony begins. Her full focus turns forward, to Giada, and as they're bid to rise she does so and turns to observe the procession.

The Proscipi Marquessa arrived early, no doubt to assist where she could with the last-minute preparations before the ceremony. With the events about to unfold, she is already settled into a spot, her eyes proudly looking towards the altar. Dressed in vibrant shades of pink, she is seated in the front where other members of her family are no doubt sprinkled throughout. There is a mix of emotions on her face, a warm smile lights her up, but there is the threat of tears in her eyes. The young woman is not shy to show the depth of her feelings, welcoming them and sharing them with those around her. It's a wedding, and fingers are fidgeting with feathers as she takes in the sights of friends and family, and the pending union between her family and another.

Music and the beckoning of Archlector Giada -- that's their cue, and far be it for Orland and Savio to miss it. From the far end of the aisle, the doors open and both are there, together, arms linked. Looking stellar of course; Orland in a suit of many pieces of silvery white, and Savio in white embroidered with pink.

Together they walk toward the altar, but not before Savio murmurs something to his intended. To the guests, Savio smiles; he looks delighted and alive with joy and also like he might have an aneurysm. Breathe, Savio.

Zoey also rises from her seat, practically beaming as she looks to the aisle with the others. She clasps her hands in front of her and smiles to the grooms as they pass.

Giada's eyes land on Cesare for a moment, an eyebrow arching slightly for some reason or another and her gaze lingers maybe a second too long to be comfortable before she looks back to the two men getting married. Her hands fold and she waits silently.

Medeia and Haakon arrive, the lady's hand tucked in the crook of her husband's arm. They make their way to seats quietly, only giving nods of greeting to those they make eye contact with as they do.

Jasher arrives to the Cathedral alone and just in time to locate an empty seat at a long pew, dressed in his standard funereal black, even for a wedding celebration which might warrant some heightened color. He remains standing with his hands clasped behind his back, adopting respectful silence for the processional walk toward the altar, though a nod is afforded to Prince Patrizio in unspoken response to the inquiry he makes of those in attendance.

Orland is in fact, adopted by Count Duarte Amadeo, so his fatherly figure is in seating, to which he pauses but briefly to bob his head to Duarte when getting close to where he's at. The young Amadeo is shoulders straight out though, his stride set with Savio's, his eyes darting over toward Savio with a short nervous smile made for Savio. He looks ahead afterward, so he doesn't trip.

Briar, a quiet young woman, 6 First Legion Centurions arrive, following Sebastian.

Zakhar watches both Savio and Orland make their first steps together. Pulling out a small square of silk and making a very loud noise which echoes through the cathedral as he blows his nose then waves the silk to the side. Mumbling softly to those near him.

From where he leans against the wall near-ish the door, Ian's eyes follow the people who drift in a bit late, a little too much of a detached assessment to look as casual or friendly as it should. He's not smiling nor frowning; his expression is slack, parked firmly in neutral.

Apollo remains standing in witness as bid, attentive and quiet, though there is a nod of greeting to the others in that alcove. He can't get the smile off his face, and wouldn't if he could.

Raven murmurs softly to Zakhar, patting his shoulder and is briefly distracted by a short conversation with Gianna but shortly Raven's attention is explicitly reserved for Savio and Orland, again adopting a broad and radiantly warm smile.

Scarf, the violet serpent arrives, following Raymesin.

Raymesin arrives, following Tanith.

Even for a wedding, Sebastian is late. It's just in his nature. Gaze is drawn around the room, as if distracted by the decorations, then finally to the pair of Lords getting married, with a pleased smile. As the ushers lead him towards a seat, he makes a wry smile, mouthing something across the crowd as he slips onto one of the pews.

Sebastian has joined the Quiet Alcove.

There's a distinctive redhead near the Marquessa Cassiopeia that some might recognize as Monique Greenmarch. Her head is tilted in quiet conversation with the Enchantress of Tremorus, looking for all the world like there's nowhere she'd rather be and nothing she'd rather be celebrating.

Tanith has joined the Commoner Pews.

Raymesin has joined the Commoner Pews.

Gianna watches Giada, Orland, and Savio with a sort of regal benevolence, her chin tilted up slightly. Like she might be proud or something.

Savio looks proud too, if (again) somewhat as though he might have a heart attack doing this, being here -- from joy and excitement and... a certain amount of stress. Both men make their way up toward Giada at the front of the cathedral and stand before her there; Savio is anxiously looking between groom and archlector back and forth as though concerned he might forget his lines, or have forgotten his lines, or any number of other calamities rattling around in his head almost visibly.

Late but doing their best to be quiet, Tanith leads Raymesin into the cathedral, her hand in his, fingers laced, her cheeks flushed. She wears a daring but simple dress of deep purple that drapes from throat to toes but leaves her bare from nape to the base of her spine, her dark hair piled up elegantly and held in place with wheeled pins. Simple bracelets of ribbon adorn one wrist, while the other has a leather cuff with a remarkable likeness of an owl on it. Her husband, no less dashingly dressed in Ulbran blacks and an exquisite cloak, has a similar cuff on his own wrist with the likeness of a silver skull. The baker, spotting a place in the commoner pews, guides the both of them to take a seat.

When Savio and Orland are in place, Giada motions for them to bow their heads. Her hands lift and rest atop the bowed heads as she begins to pray. Her voice carries easily without sacrificing the intimacy found in many of her prayers. "Most Holy Gods of the Pantheon," she begins, "we stand before you to ask your blessing and presence in this sacred time. May you hear the Oaths of your people and smile upon their praises. Be glorified, Gods of our Faith, in the words spoken today."

Her hands return to her side. "Hello," she says, grinning at the grooms. "Relax, Lord Savio, or you'll do yourself a mischief." Now her casual nature slips away for a while.

"My Lords. State your purpose before the Gods. Why do you come?"

Savio exhales a breath that's half laugh when Giada tells him to relax, and seems to make an effort to pull himself together, standing a little straighter, especially when Casual Giada slips into Archlector of the Thirteenth Giada. Both of them expected to answer, he gives his half, simply. Voice a little quiet at first, but picking up so that everyone can hear it. "I've come to marry this man before the witnesses gathered, and to thereby join the House of Amadeo."

Raven watches, back strait, head high, and that smile stretched so wide across her features she's almost unrecognizeable without her customary glower.

Another loud blaaaaaappt from the corner alcove from the old man, this time wiping at his eyes before hiding his face into the burgundy red square of silk

Haakon is present, silent and watching the ritual and assembly warily. He doesn't smile.

Orland settles in beside Savio, checking over his shoulder for all the witnesses. Oh yes, his eyes widen a bit at seeing some of the prominent members of the peerage at /his/ wedding. He sees you back there Lord Ian, trying to act bodyguard, and Prince Sebastian and Prince Perfect Hair, and then there's an acknowledgement of a pair of Ulbrans, the faces of the Eswynds, the Guildmaster. He's suddenly getting lost in looking at tall the eyes eyeing him that Giada's words jar his back straight and his head bowed to the prayer above them. His hand twitches at his side. As Savio goes first, he looks over toward him at those words, a wide smile on his face then, so sudden and so unexpected, like sunshine parting through the long held gloom of stormy skies. His hand reaches toward Savio's fingers and with confidence that sends his baritone upward toward the Gods he answers, "I have come this day, before all those gathered, to accept this man beside me into House Amadeo as /my/ Husband."

When Giada starts to speak, Cassiopeia's attention snaps towards the woman, there is a deep appreciation in her eyes. Fingers are buried in the feathers of her dress, keeping her hands clasped together. Sitting straight, her focus undivided now, she is baring witness to the union of her cousin and his. Azure blues drift to Savio and the love she has for him, is ever apparent, looking proudly as he speaks up. Orland is captured in that gaze, a silent familial vow in her expression. The smile on her lips is small, genuine and it echoes with warmth.

Monique glances over to Zakhar and there's a deep, warm smile that claims her lips as she spies the businessman, but then all attention goes back to the wedding taking place. This, the Greenmarch watches with a more indecipherable expression.

Raven lifts both hands and clasps them infront of her even though one arm is atrophied compaired to the other but she doesn't seem to notice or care, clasping her hands before her and looking like she could burst into song and dance at any moment.

Giada's olive green eyes slide across the guests, the cathedral itself, and finally come to rest on the two men before her. Her smile is gone, replaced with a far more serious mien. "You, Lord Orland Amadeo and Lord Savio Proscipi, come before the gods and the Compact to join your houses through marriage.

It bears stating the foremost of the sacred duties of noble marriage: the security of the Compact and the guardianship of lands and people. For this purpose, two houses negotiate a legally binding contract and speak Oaths before the gods. The Compact is made of many different kinds of people, and it's to our benefit that we possess so many perspectives at our fingertips. It is the examination of our convictions and the mettle of our soul. Yet these varied peoples need protection and guidance. They need leaders that inspire them to listen to their better selves and form themselves into proud citizens that lean into the Faith. The Compact is, after all, only as strong as its weakest link. The point of marriage is, in function, a sort servanthood ...or stewardship, if it sounds sweeter... in which the Peerage provides stability and protection to their people. Any House unable to provide these things must make changes to correct their course and step into their responsibility.

To this end, I am unable to give you or any other an unexamined blessing. Before we continue, you will answer the Voice of the Thirteenth as the case is made against you." An acolyte hands Giada's mirrormask to her, and the priestess ties it into place, preventing her expressions from being read.

Cesare is silent and attentive, his dark gaze making a circuit of several familiar faces before returning to the altar, the pair before it, and the priestess. His expression is solemn as such an august occasion demands, or possibly it's just a devastatingly thorough case of Whisper face.

Savio seems to have expected this; no doubt they went over the rituals of this process before arriving at the altar. Still, it's a thing to hear -- the case will be made against you -- and to know questions to that effect will have to be answered. All the reasons not to do it. His gaze dips down somewhere near Orland's excellent shoes, and then back up to confirm to Giada, "I am ready."

Ian looks towards the altar as Giada puts on the mask, his expression unreadable.

Apollo, having not received the Primer on Mirrormask Wedding Officiation, might be seen with a look of guarded surprise or trepidation when Giada says 'unable to give you...' - but things get better when she gets to -unexamined-. Unexamined! Nobody gives unexamined approval. It's fiiiiine. He smiles again. Everything is great. He glances back at Lianne, and on past her to Zoey, positively beaming. Lot of teeth in that head of his. There might even be a murmur of approval in there, inaudible.

Raven blink. Blink. Blinks. Case against-her smile faults. IT's a slow freezing of that smile as if it were plastic, then a furrow of her eyebrows. The smile crumbles into an expression of vexed confusion followed by a twitch at the corner of her eye. Finally it her expression smooths as she realizes this may be a obligatory formality but those green eyes hold something bright and sharp in their depths.

Raymesin stays in Tanith's shadow, which is quite a feat given their height differential - or perhaps he's just enjoying the view of her back. Until she sits down, at least, at which point he sits next to her. He doesn't smile, but his head does tilt a little to one side when Giada talks about not being able to give her blessing unquestioned. He murmurs something to those he's with in the commoners' pews.

Lianne's smile is more muted than her husband's but plainly present, the shifts in her expression subtle and surely not half so interesting as the proceedings. While most of her attention remains upon the couple, there is a glance, but sly and pleased, shared between Apollo on one side and Zoey on the other as she leans in against the former just a little bit.

Someone wearing an artful and unnaturally reflective stygian mirrormask's voice lifts now, tone firm and detatched.

"You are accused of a love match." The statement is frankly offered, a simple statement of fact from Tehom's Advocate.

"A well known fate befalls many such indulgent marriages, well intentioned but vulnerable to the whims of the wedded couple, the tempests of terrible fights (and you will have some), and the wandering of attention. Too many sacred Oaths have been discarded through divorce. Before Limerance and the gods, speak your defense. Why should the people of the Compact have faith in the durability of your match?"

Monique checks composure at normal. Monique marginally fails.

Orland murmurs something quietly to Savio with a hint of mirth in his eyes but with his hand holding Savio's own, he looks ahead and watches as Giada starts to put on her mirrormask. Despite her being the Archlector of the Thirteen, to see her veiled by the mask has him turn pensive and grave. The first question has him physically readjust his position but his lips do not move, not yet.

Raven scowls and rises. Zakhar is given a dark, irritable look as she does so. She rises slowly as if trying to avoid drawing notice and comes to stand just beside the alcove beside her guards. This done she draws in a slow, deep breath and exhales her vexation to turn her full attention back to the ceremony.

Raven has left the Quiet Alcove.

Something in the Mirrormask officiant's words have Monique's indecipherable facade breaking a moment, flickering into a scowl. But she ducks her bright head and focuses on her lap a moment and the world does not end. When she looks back up, it's with a quiet stillness, listening for the answers given.

Ian shifts from watching the door to scanning the audience. His neutral expression hasn't changed, but he stops leaning against the wall.

Patrizio cannot help but smile slightly when there's the statement from the mirror-masked figure, an expression that he tamps down slightly before he's drawing a breath and waiting to hear the responses that come.

Thea lifts an eyebrow a touch, but---her interest in drawn to the two men.

Jasher sits forward in his seated position upon the pew, unshackled interest playing out over his features. He is neither pleased nor displeased, simply transfixed by the turn of events.

Duarte examines his fingernails and makes a small 'pop' sound with his lips. His own expression is relaxed and ever so slightly amused. He looks to the Orand half of the couple and smiles.

Savio is the one to answer the Mirrormask's first question in defense of their validity. Perhaps this is fitting, since he is famously sentimental. "This is not a match between two individuals; it is a match between two realms," he answers, loud enough for those gathered to hear it. As always, his voice carries the strange lilting accent of his faraway origins, but he is taking care to speak clearly. "For years Amadeo and Proscipi have aided one another through peace and war, and this marriage is that alliance written in permanent bond. Love is sweet, but it has nothing to do with the military, infrastructure, and economic relationships in place between Tremorus and Bravura. Our Houses are not bound by love, but by silver, stone, and blood."

Captain Curls, an attentive, ebony guard poodle, Aspira arrive, following Quenia.

Sebastian glances up briefly as Raven stands, gaze following the Blackheart momentarily -- before it returns to the Mirrormask and the two lords. The Mirrormask's expression might be concealed, but the Prince of Pravus doesn't bother to hide his interest in the answer from the bard.

Quenia quietly slips into the back of the cathedral and steps off to the side. She finds a place at the back wall and leans against it.

The sickly Blackshore's cold gaze settles upon the pair situated before the altar, gaunt features devoid of judgment. Following Savio's response to the mirrormask's inquiry, he nods once -- seemingly satisfied.

Cesare's reaction to the Archlector's question is a nonreaction: he observes the varied reverberations throughout the cathedral to the words, but it isn't until Savio speaks that he smiles faintly, dipping his chin very slightly.

Raven's smile has blossomed once more, the irritation having evaporated as she smiles approvingly at Savio's answer.

Zakhar squints at Raven as she gets up to step aside from the alcove, then looking back to Savio and Orland. Wiping at his face once more as he listens to Savio's response.

Someone wearing an artful and unnaturally reflective stygian mirrormask nods slightly. "Be your honour so bound."

Tehom's Advocate turns her mirrored face to seemingly focus on Orland now. "The union you join is unable to produce heirs of blood." Another directly stated fact, no punches pulled even as there is no condemnation. "The stability of a House is found in clearly established lines of inheritance; without these lines, the House and the people over whom they have charge are at risk of internal wars of succession." There is a pause to let that register. "Defend yourself before the Gods. Speak your answer."

Cassiopeia watches the two men before the woman in the mirrormask, despite the emotions in her eyes, her features find a neutral position for the moment. There is a nod of approval and a look of sisterly pride when Savio responds. Blonde brows lift ever so slightly as the questions continue. It's no doubt her first mirrormask officiated wedding, perhaps her first compact wedding. Cassiopeia is both fascinated and overcome by the emotions of seeing such a union take place.

Orland's eyes slightly widen. The Mirrormask is quite intimidating, when turned on him specifically. While the mind states that Giada is behind the mask, it seems all of who she was is no longer present and in place, was the reflections of all those behind him and the image of himself as well. Orland inhales a deep breath to ensure that his voice is pronounced and reaches even those in the back, the weight of his tone showcasing the importance of his words and the sincerity of them, "As Heir to Bravura, I vow before Limerance, who holds us to duty and to Gild, who holds us to societal traditions, that a unified household of Proscipi and Amadeo will fulfil our sacred obligation of continued lineage." His baritone stretches further, a fierce passion running in its undercurrents, "By the freedom of choice that Skald grants us, we vow to make three adoptions of nobleborn orphans, under guidance and approval, who have suffered the loss of prospects, and these children would be recognized henceforth, as scions of Amadeo. From these three, the blood of Amadeo will be established and security ensured."

It's all very serious, and a little intimidating. Masks have a purpose, after all, hiding the identity of the wearer, and in this case replacing Giada with a voice that has had many echoes since the proclamation. It is difficult to face even if you know it's coming, but they're not facing it alone. Maybe that's the point. Savio smiles at Orland's answer, one corner of his mouth crooked upwards in something that mingles affection and pride and a little piquant smidge of looking pleased. Like some kind of discussion has ultimately tilted in his favor.

Orland gives Savio a quick look. Just one quick look. It probably reads No.

Zoey lifts an eyebrow at the mention of 'noble orphans' and there is sense that she is making some kind of mental note at that.

There's a glimmer of an idea in Zakhar's eye when listening to Orland speak, or its a tear. Most likely another dreadful allergy attack of a tear. Though, he nods at the mention of noble orphans.

Raven smiles broadly though her eyebrows loft closer to her hairline at the number three. That's a lot of children in her estimation.

Someone wearing an artful and unnaturally reflective stygian mirrormask's head dips in another of those faint nods. With that slight movement, her mirrormask presents and then shatters reflections that are far -too- clear. "Be your blood so bound."

Then again, another question. The high priestess of Tehom continues the (likely planned) press, applying the full weight of the Advocate to each question. "Bravura is in unrest. Your people mock sacred traditions in the street and those of sense are questioning why they remain in such turmoil. In this way the fears of your people are expressed. A marriage is for the Peerage to better serve their lands. What answer have you? Swear before the Gods what stability you bring to your people."

Gianna continues to watch with her usual neutral expression. No eyebrow quirks or lips pressing together or anything.

With the last question asked, Ian gives the people gathered on the pews one last considering look, and then goes back to watching the door.

Orland faces that mirrormask with the blurry images of the witnesses behind them staring at him, his own reflection bouncing back, clearer, but the touch of solidarity with the man behind him he retains a willpower to meet those questions. His chin is held up and his shoulders out, back straight, a strong poise to represent his awareness of responsibility. "The vows we make here today are not only to one another, but also to the people of Bravura, as we uphold the prosperity and the future of all who are sworn to House Amadeo." He looks into the mirrormask as if trying to find someone in particular in it or gathering his thoughts, continuing, "Upon this union, free Trade will be established between House Amadeo and House Proscipi, bringing Saffron wealth to Bravura. Upon this union, each House agrees to come to the military aid of the other if attacked by common enemies of the Compact, and to provide humanitarian aid in the event of disaster." He looks to Savio as if anticipating the other man would speak further on this or in fact, that they are in this together and so too his voice shall be heard.

Savio does not have the art of keeping his thoughts off his face, and the mention of the Unhappy Bravurans does send his gaze down toward Orland's shoes again. But have you seen them? They're very good shoes. Holding Orland's hands, he listens, and looks up again to the Mirrormask Archlector when it is his turn to add on to this thought. Guarantees for the people. "Both houses have agreed to assist one another with an extensive infrastructure project every 5 years, to reaffirm the relationship." He stands a little straighter, more confidently. "In this way we write our intention for the future into stone, roads, defenses, ports -- the people are not asked to believe the prosperity of the union in faith, they will be able to reach out and touch it."

Apollo, quietly attentive, seems pleased with all these answers - proud, more, actually. There's no further comment or murmur where he stands, just a lifted head and a smile that's tempered down to that esteem.

Raven smiles broadly, radiating approval and casting a quick glance around for anyone who looks looks like a potential dissenter.

Duarte looks like a potential disaster by his mere presence. But his few words here and there are kept at a more or less hush and he remains well behaved as things proceed. Looking proud.

"Be your duty so bound."

Apparently, the Voice of Tehom is satisfied, because the mirrormask comes off and is handed off to the aforementioned acolyte. Giada's eyes twinkle now, smile in place. "I believe that you both have personal vows to make?" The prompt is calm and pleasant in a perhaps welcome contrast to the grimness of the last few questions.

Jasher slowly eases out of that forward lean, and so abates that intensity of his stare upon the proceedings for the questions asked and their respective responses. It seems that singular part of the ceremony has concluded. His fingers knit loosely together within his lap as he passively appraises the individuals seated upon his bench, and beyond in the alcove. The shed tears and bright grins that abound evoke warmth to his face, softening his standard severity of countenance. It seems he is not entirely immune to the effects of a blessed union.

Finally it is time to speak of oaths to his husband. HIS HUSBAND. SQUEE. Turning to look at Savio, Orland reaches out to take him by the hand, to connect his words with his physical self, so that they look upon one another now. Brown eyes meet hazel, his mouth turns a nervous curl, a sheen of perspiration showing on his brow, a slight shuffle of his feet, his finger sweeping over Savio's. He looks down and with a wide tearful smile he slides the ring, Eye of Stars, onto Savio's ring finger. There is a quick stolen look toward the witnesses, which makes his cheeks grow darker with a flush as he zips his eyes back to Savio. He has to do a little clearing of his throat before he begins, "Savio Proscipi, my sky, my night, my truest friend, and the man I choose, trust, and want to build a future with in Bravura. Before the Gods, our families, our friends, and the people that will depend upon us to lead and council them, I vow to make you my husband this day and all the days hence that we are given."

"I swear I will be true and loyal to you,
and shall pass no falsehoods between my lips
nor shall I act in any way that would do you a disservice,
For I will be faithful to you, in words and deeds."

"I vow to share with you all that is mine to share,
and to protect and cherish what is yours as if it were mine,
I vow to respect and trust your choices as if an extension of my own,
I vow to support your goals and dreams and climb any obstacle to get you in reach of them,
and to let you flourish in your own independence and celebrate with you."

"I vow to take up defense of you against any threat; written, spoken, or otherwise.
I vow to stand by you in sorrow, sickness, and bleakness,
I vow to remain by your side even if you lose arms, eyes, legs, ears or teeth, or put on weight and lose ambition," this he says with a sudden smirk as if meant to be held in humor,
"I vow to build a family with you and stand with you in raising children to grow our House and our future,
And I vow to wait for you with a light left on to guide you home from places I cannot follow.
And I swear by the highest Gods, to let death be the true and only reason for breaking of my oaths to you."



Raven checks composure at daunting. Raven fails.

Ophne arrives, following Amund.

As if on a cue, Zakhar unfolds his silk square and there's a sudden burst of ALLERGIES!! Along with a *Blaaaaaapppt* as he blows his nose with some sniffles as well. Looking back to Savio and Orland with a soft what might be a smile...

Raven hic-sniffles. A finger lips to dashing moisture from her eyes. Her breath staggers a bit as she sucks in a shuddering breath only for another series of hic-hic-hiccup-sniffles leave her. The lords, the ceremony, Giada's oversight-everything is perfect and Raven is totally moved.

Duarte premptively passes another handkerchief in Zahkar's direction. The Count doesn't need it himself...drying potential tears are what fluffy white cuffs are for.

Savio is here for the mushy stuff, you guys. He's a bard. And he's him. And Orland only gets about halfway through his vows before Savio is laugh-crying, trying not to cry, failing not to cry. Especially as the ring goes on. TEARS. Oh no, his makeup! "Oh, what are you like, I wasn't going to get all weepy," Savio protests, but, not very strenuously. A SNIFFLE follows and he pulls himself together enough to smile at Orland, the only person he has eyes in this room for, to place the Eye of Night ring carefully on his hand and say his own vows.

"I will give you all that is mine to give
And I will sacrifice my selfishness to see your dreams made real
I will help you in every endeavor
And where you set your hands and mind, I will set mine also.

I will be a shield for your back
And I will suffer no grievous word to be spoken about you
I will have no other besides you
And I will walk with you through the paths of grief.

No evil will befall you so long as I stand
And if by my life or death I can defend you, it will be so
You are the star of my night, the light of my world
And into your House and your future I will follow you faithfully."

They are so close to officially married and no one got assassinated at all, this is going really well.

There is a moment where Cassiopeia's attempts to temper her emotions are nudged over the edge. As she listens to the exchange between Orland and Savio. The tears that threaten to spill, begin to streak down her rosy cheeks. Openly. Unabashed and unrestraint. Free. There is a deep appreciation for what is being claimed. But it is not all sentiment that the young woman displays, but something fierce within her, protective of those she gazes upon. It is never verbalized, but it is evident in the way she looks at them. The young woman lets her feelings be put on display for those around her, thinking nothing of it. Rather, she is focused on the moment, the experience and the sentiment that is created by it. A smile forms, easy and full on her lips and it echos her deeper gratitude for all.

Sebastian is overheard praising Orland: What a moving vow.

Sebastian is overheard praising Savio: A true bard.

Duarte is overheard praising Orland: THAT'S MY BOY!!!

Alberico, the Malespero aide, Louis, a Malespero Armsman, Mar, the Magpie arrive, following Pasquale.

Duarte is overheard praising Savio.

Apollo is overheard praising Savio.

Zakhar is overheard praising Savio: Both dashing in view and with words

Apollo is overheard praising Orland.

Zakhar is overheard praising Orland.

Aedric is overheard praising Savio.

Aedric is overheard praising Orland.

Jasher is overheard praising Orland.

Zoey is overheard praising Orland.

Jasher is overheard praising Savio.

Zoey is overheard praising Savio.

It doesn't even rhyme! It does not rhyme. It does not /rhyme./ Cesare's fingers unlace and he places the palm of one hand just above his heart. This, all of it combined, is surely how one might know that he is truly moved by Savio's heartfelt vows. A faint smile lodges itself stubbornly on his face, despite its efforts to maintain total placid neutrality.

Aedric is overheard praising Giada.

"Your Oaths have been spoken before the Compact and the Gods."

Giada keeps the ceremony moving as it draws near its end. "Long may they bless your union and give peace to your lands. As you chart the future of your union, what gift do you bring the gods to mark your faith in their guidance?" She speaks this as if it's almost standard procedure. Of course the logisitician would think it's standard procedure.

Monique sits very still in her seat, staring straight ahead. The seemingly lone not-crier, not much of an expression at all, but as everyone else starts to cheer, to smile, she takes the cue and does likewise.

Sebastian has no neutral expression; quite the opposite. He seems particularly moved by the pair's vows, tears freely flowing down his features as his gaze flickers between the newly wedded pair as if soaking up their mood by proxy. "Well spoken. What a fine pair they are," he says heartily, only pausing briefly to pull out a silken hankerchief.

Kiera is overheard praising Orland.

A few more attendees filter in through the front doors, slipping covertly along the back walls of the cathedral before finding seats at the rear. Ophne is the first to settle in, folding her skirts neatly about her as she scans those seated and lastly those standing near the front. Curious, she inclines her head and watches attentively, glancing only once and over to her side at Amund, who appears to have arrived at the very same time she did.

Kiera is overheard praising Savio.

Ophne is overheard praising Savio.

Ian is also pretty firmly in the not crying camp. He's not even in the repressing tears camp. His expression remains slack and unreadable, his eyes the kind of intense better associated with vigilance than any emotion. He's gone back to leaning against the wall, watching the door mostly, and only the occasional look cast towards the altar even indicates that he's still listening.

Monique is overheard praising Savio.

Monique is overheard praising Orland.

Savio is all happy beaming at Orland yay, YAY, to the point of almost missing another Serious question tossed his way. These Mirrormasks will keep you on your toes. A gift to the gods, ah! But he does pull himself together enough to clear his throat and speak of it, "We offer to the gods the establishment of a new school of the Faith in Bravura. The school will provide teaching of the Faith to prodigals and newcomers, welcoming them into the guidance of the gods and ensuring that all our people embrace the standards, integrity, and beliefs of the Compact and of the Faith." Perhaps again, appropriate for him to be the one that says this, given how obviously Prodigal he is. "We take the responsibility of this education to produce true and prosperous citizens, not those easily swayed by our enemies. This is our promise to the gods, this is our gift."

Gianna is also not among the crying. Or even the teary-eyed. She simply bears witness.

Apollo might be a little misty there in fact, with Lianne's arm around him. Hard not to be. Look, he could probably school his face, but gods, why?

Raymesin isn't even cracking a smile - but he's here, and he's watching, and he's even keeping his mouth shut.

Patrizio is firmly in camp-not-crying, but he's smiling approvingly from where he's been bearing witness from where he lingers in the pews.

One last time, Giada tips her head in a nod. "Your gift is given." She lifts her hands. "In the name of the Pantheon, with the authority of Archlector, I pronounce your union accomplished and accepted in faith and deed." She looks between the two men.

"You can kiss now."

It's possible Giada is smirking. Maybe.

Clad in Lycene chic from yesteryear, Amund flashes Ophne a brief smile as they make their way into the Cathedral, just in time to see the exchange of vows. He nods greetings quietly before his onyx gaze turns upon the altar and the couple exchanging vows there. Finding a seat in the back rows, he listens to the announcements, expression nondescript.

Kiera likewise slides in the back just in time to heqe vows and get teary eyed

A surreal wobble and sway takes over Orland. It's like he might PASS OUT. No. He won't, it's okay. He didn't stumble and fall utterly, his hand clasped to Savio's wrist. He had such a strong partner that wanted to stand beside him and has vowed all of that to him. His face softens. It's a rare look on him, truly. Most of y'all have ever seen him deadpan, expaserated, cynical and ready to chew nails. It's a transition that is soulful and profound. Maybe he's standing there in a dream state, thankful that Savio had answered the last question. It's literally all he can do to not wreck ceremony and grab Savio for that seal of a kiss. WAIT. Waiting. Okay, oh, there's the words! They can! "C'mere," he says in an accent the Ulbrans might recognize if they could hear over the cheers and celebration that is to come as he moves in for the ceremonial smooch. His arm hooks around Savio and one hand finds Savio's face so they don't boink noses or something embarrassing... He gives Savio a little bridal tilt then... SMOOCH!

Raven holds her breath and watches raptly. When the couple seal the deal she issues a spirited whoop and claps-it's anemic since she can't straiten the fingers on one hand but it's awfully spirited and of course, that whoop rips loose, taking up what her claping falls short in expressing her joy.

Union accomplished. Married. They got MARRIED. Savio laughs, something breathless and disbelieving, then throws his arms around Orland's neck and melts into The Smooch, which is of course both heartfelt and tasteful... as such an occasion requires. When they part again he's still holding Orland's hand, the other one lifted up as though in triumphant victory.

"Okay, now we drink!"

So close to being a good noble for the day, so close. But it's true enough, now is the time to decamp to festivity!

Giada says, "May I present to the Witnesses, Lord Orland and Lord Savio Amadeo."

Duarte claps enthusiastically and smiles. Pinky fingers to the corners of his mouth to let out a piercing, celebratory whistle. After the kiss, he stands and waddles toward the grooms. A hand to pat Savio's shoulder. "Well done and congratulations." and a hug for Orland.

Giada says, "May I present to the Witnesses, Lord Orland and Lord Savio Amadeo."

Zakhar is overheard praising Ian.

Aedric draws gauntlets away from breastplate and joins the chorus of applause.

Patrizio rises from his place, applauding as Giada presents the married lords to the assembly in the Cathedral, joining in with the chorus of such.

Savio is overheard praising Giada: The finest of the Faith.

With tear-stained cheeks, Cassiopeia watches as Orland and Savio kiss, confirming their union and she claps her hands. The young woman has no idea if clapping is appropriate, but she is going to clap. As Savio announces it's time to drink, the Marquessa stands up, "please everyone -- join us at Tremorus Manor! For celebrations and joy," she encourages those gathered here.

Savio is overheard praising Orland: Now you can never escape.

Jasher claps his hands together heartily, at least through the duration of their kiss, and then fluidly rises to his feet.

Ophne watches the proceedings with an interested eye, shifting slightly before breaking into a big smile as cheers erupt from those in the pews. She tosses an open grin at Amund, then rises and claps.

Gianna does applaud, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she does so. So elegant!

Her part accomplished, Giada murmurs something softly to Orlando and Savio. She afterwards turns to see to the business of the Cathedral's cleanup.

Amund rises and claps, flashing Ophne a smile of his own.

Cesare lets out a full voiced cheer of approval that rings and echoes throughout the cathedral's vaulted high ceilings like the voice of Jayus himself, raising both hands in applause to punctuate it. His expression finally breaks into a smile, teeth flashing white at least for a few seconds. He doesn't immediately ambush the newly wedded lords, instead taking a moment to approach the noble benches.

As the couple fall into that smooch Pasquale takes the moment to offer a few claps of his own hands before rising in anticipation of the long, long, trip to the reception.

Oh crap! ORLAND HAS NOT BEEN CRYING. He's been trying very hard, you know, not to cry! But then his arm is held up in victory, even then, he is smiling beaming, happy, ready for the future and all the centipedes that are going to be breaking through the earth at him and dumping buildings on him again! It's... the HUG. THE HUG. THE DUARTE HUG that has him shook! SHOOOOOOOK. He almost flinches but then ... he's hugging the fat bastard back with a sudden laughing SOB and a gentle, "I won."

A quietly attentive member of the audience for most of the ceremony, Caprice joins with others as they rise, contributing to the rising applause. Her expression warms, a smile revealing itself - bright and appreciative and aimed at the newlyweds.

Zakhar has left the Quiet Alcove.