In Which Florian Sees the Ironic Smile

January 9, 1172

"God, I just can't understand it." Florian finished what was left of the bottle's contents and placed it side-down on the counter, earning a disapproving glare from that insufferable Seoth. "After all these years, you finally get a chance to be your own man, and only nine days later, you're getting married again. I don't get it."

Shrugging, Falidor took a last sip of the goblet in front of him, then handed it back to the innkeeper. "You don't have to get it--although it's not that hard to get, really. I love her."

"Yes, but... nine days?" These nine days had been the only glimpse of bachelorhood poor Falidor had been granted since he was a boy of sixteen, and there was no way a man gave that up so easily--no matter how in love he was. Florian had to get to the bottom of this. "Look, you can tell me: is Raia's father making you marry her before the baby comes?"

On the groom-to-be's other side, Aldhein bowed his head and groaned; Falidor nearly choked. "Uh... what?"

Florian rested his elbow to the counter surface and leaned toward his friend, perhaps a little perversely triumphant--after all, he must have been right. "He is, isn't he?"

Falidor sighed. "No, he's really not."

"Err... Falidor?"

It was the baker, whom none of them liked, but who seemed unaware of the fact. Florian pulled himself back upright; he normally enjoyed tormenting Roveln, but on the eve of his friend's poorly-timed wedding, he was a little preoccupied, so he tried to ignore him. Falidor, on the other hand, decided to be polite. "Yes?"

"Uh, well, now that you're divorced and getting remarried again," the baker began, his hands fidgeting as his eyes fell to the floor, "I just figured I should tell you that I'm sorry for sleeping with your first wife."

Quiet--then, as if startled by his own daring, he took a few hasty strides toward the door and vanished from the range of the window.

Florian snickered. "He actually said it to your face? What a--"

"You know what?" Cutting Florian off, Aldhein pushed back his pint and turned to face Falidor, a resigned, tired sort of look in his eye. "Maybe that was stupid, but it was also rather noble. Falidor, I'm sorry for sleeping with your wife too."

Well... that was news to Florian. If Falidor's cocked eyebrow was any indication, this was the first he'd heard of this too. "You slept with Ailede?"

Grim, Aldhein nodded. "In my defense, though, this was before I met Alsina and it only happened the one time."

"All right..."

"Falidor?"

Seoth crossed to the other side of the counter and took the empty barstool to Florian's left, then looked past him and locked eyes with Falidor. "I'm also sorry for sleeping with your--"

"Oh for the love of God!" Florian slammed his fist against the counter with a force that rendered the entire inn mute. This would probably be the only bachelor party Falidor was ever going to get and he'd be damned if it was going to be ruined by someone other than him! "Am I the only person in this room who hasn't had sexual intercourse with Ailede Wythleit?"

Never before had he been forced to endure such an awkward silence. "Well then..."

Aldhein sniffed. "'Well then' indeed."

Florian cast a glare around the room, making sure that every soul in the room was aware of his annoyance before finally turning to Falidor--poor, embarrassed, laughingstock Falidor. "So... are you going to pound the stuffing out of all these sluts, or what?"

Falidor glanced toward Seoth, then Aldhein, then back to Florian. His head shook; his lips formed an odd shape, almost like an ironic sort of smile. "No--why bother? I'm happy now."

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