I’d expected to see at least the Head Cleric tonight, this being a wedding ceremony and all, but the sanctuary was empty save for the two Voster priests already standing at the altar. Maybe their magic scared away the clerics. The pinpricks on my skin were instant. Insufferable. And Quentin weddings were often three-hour affairs. I wasn’t sure I could suffer through this sensation for that long. “Where are the clerics?” I asked, my voice low enough for only Father to hear. “There will not be a ceremony. Only the marriage decree and signing of the treaty.” “Oh.” Why did I sound disappointed? At
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