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The whispers filling the hall grew louder and louder until what had begun as a sound as faint as footfalls on cedar boughs became loud enough that even ordinary people could hear their neighbor’s opinions on the couples that Lady Nyrielle proudly presented to them.

"I thought her human progeny would have chosen human lovers..."

"I don’t care how it happened, do you see? Our Clan of the Great Claw has a vampire again..."

"My horns are lighter and thinner than hers, does he really expect to live a happy life with a woman who’s horns are so... manish? If he doesn’t want to find himself rammed into submission by his own wife he should look for someone a little more demure, don’t you think..."

"Is he going to make her a vampire too? Can witches even become vampires?"

"Why are you all so excited, thinking about one of them falling in love with you? Don’t you see what your children would turn out like, sitting right there at the front table? You want to give birth to one of the Clanless?"

"That poor dear, do you think she really has any choice in this? Or do you think that man tortured her until she submitted?"

Standing at the head of the great hall, it was impossible for either couple to miss the comments of the crowd and even more impossible for Nyrielle to fail to hear the thoughts that rippled through the hall.

"It seems as though you have many questions," Nyrielle said from the front of the hall, instantly silencing the whispers with a single sentence.

"You are owed no answers," she said flatly as her gaze sharpened, seeming to pierce directly through a few members in the crowd who had cast doubts about the motives behind these unusual unions.

"You have doubts about their love and their intentions toward each other," she said as shadows began to gather behind her wings, making it appear that Nyrielle stood at the edge of a great abyss.

"You are even less entitled to those doubts than you are to your questions about their relationships.

I am disappointed," she said as she scowled at the people occupying most of the tables in the great hall.

For a moment, Nyrielle’s last three words hung over everyone in the hall like a shadowy headsman’s ax, ready to descend upon them at the slightest breath.

Several people who had spoken openly to their neighbors of their doubts or concerns now swallowed heavily, sinking down into their chairs and casting nervous glances about.

"She wouldn’t, wouldn’t do anything to us just for speaking our minds, would she?" one man whispered nervously to his neighbor. After all, so many people had spoken, she’d need to kill almost half the people in the hall if she wanted to strike them down for their words!

"She’s called the ’Blood Princess’ for a reason, idiot," the man sitting next to him hissed. "I told you to hold your tongue for a reason!"

"M-my Lady," Marshal Jakob said, standing up from his seat next to Commander Bassinger.

"There are many newcomers with us tonight.

For some, it is their first time having an audience with you," he said, clutching a napkin in his hands and fighting to resist the urge to mop the sweat from his brow.

"Perhaps, even though we aren’t owed an explanation for why you are disappointed, you could tell us, so the newcomers might learn our ways," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat that felt as large as a robin’s egg.

Across the hall, many people nodded, resembling hens pecking at the ground in search of a meal in their eagerness to endorse the gray-haired mashal from the Horned Clan.

Others still fidgeted nervously in their seats and a few glanced at the doors, wondering if they could dash for one of the side entrances used by the servants of the ancient keep in order to escape Lady Nyrielle’s wrath.

"You wish to understand?" Nyrielle said as she swept her midnight gaze over the crowd.

"Very well. When I returned to the Vale, I announced a festival to celebrate my betrothal, and this should be a joyous thing.

Outside, the people of the Vale and our guests from across the mountains still cheer and celebrate in joy. "

"You have heard of Lord General Thane’s elevation and seen Sir Ollie dubbed a knight and you have cheered for them both," Nyrielle added, looking at the teacher and his student in turn, giving each of them a small smile.

"But when I announce joyous reunions, forgiveness and the first wedding between vampires in the Vale of Mists in more than a century. .. there are no cheers for them."

Standing before the high table, Heila shifted her cloven hooves nervously, squeezing Ignatious’s hand hard enough that an ordinary human would have cried out in pain.

Ignatious, however, only smiled gently down at her, mouthing the words ’I’m sorry,’ as if he could somehow take responsibility for the way the crowd reacted to the sight of him in his robes and at the knowledge of what he had done.

He had offered to put aside the robes of his order for this evening, donning more common garb like Thane or Lennart in order to avoid being a flashpoint during the celebration but both Nyrielle and Heila had rejected his offer.

Ignatious had suffered for his faith and his crimes, and the fact that he still held to his beliefs while rejecting the corruption of the Church was something that Not only Heila and Nyrielle respected but Ashlynn as well.

To see him strip off the robes that represented such an important part of his life, just because they made other people uncomfortable, would have felt like a betrayal of everything Ignatious had endured while he languished in exile.

If the day ever came that he rejected the robes of his Church, they would all support his decision, but no one wanted to see the decision forced upon him.

"I am disappointed," Nyrielle repeated, her voice landing on the crowd like an icy lash across the back.

"Because I wished to make tonight a night of joy.

Instead, I find myself wondering if my people are worth defending.

If seeing love form between people of different origins is so shocking that you cannot even hold your tongues to applaud them, then what reason do they have to sacrifice anything for you? "

The silence in the hall became so heavy that no one seemed able to move. Many in the audience unconsciously held their breath and even the servants who had been moving about the tables to refill goblets paused, balancing their trays carefully and not daring to take another step forward.

One voice, however, shattered the silence, startling everyone in the room as someone finally gathered the courage to speak out, not in response to Nyrielle’s disappointment but with a different message entirely.

"I am happy for them!"