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The Marriage

Jerome stood still before the mirror in his chamber, dressed in a bright red robe lined with a gold border. Beneath it, he wore matching trousers, and his leather footwear was dyed a deep crimson. A cap with ruffles completed his attire as he scrutinized his reflection. Beside him, Peter lounged on the bed, stifling a yawn.

"You've been at it all morning; you look fine already," Peter grumbled. "Can't believe you're tying the knot today."

Jerome adjusted his robe, checking his appearance once more. "Why?" he asked Peter absentmindedly.

"Because Ravea's the only girl you've courted. Why settle for the first one when there could be more out there?" Peter's tone was serious.

"Peter, that's not right, and I haven't even courted Ravea," Jerome replied nervously, realizing his mistake.

"What?" Peter looked confused.

"What?" Jerome echoed.

"Forget it. I get it; you haven't really courted her," Peter joked, lying back. "But don't worry, you'll have your chance to find out what it's like. Wonder how it is, being with a pregnant woman."

"Enough of that. I'm ready. Let's go," Jerome said, pulling Peter off the bed.

Mr. Dernewt reluctantly accepted the marriage, though he was initially against it, especially upon learning of Ravea's pregnancy. Hilma, Jerome's mother, supported the couple despite her initial shock, even contributing a large portion of her savings to the wedding.

Aside from the village festival, Jerome and Ravea's wedding was the most significant event of the year, drawing onlookers from all corners of the village, including respected Elders.

Not everyone attended out of goodwill; some came to protest the union, swiftly managed by hired security. Some threw rotten food at the Dernewt's house, while others brought gifts, balancing the sentiment. Despite the controversy, the Dernewt family earned respect for their willingness to take responsibility.

The wedding took place in the courtyard behind the Dernewt's home. Guests sat under wooden canopies adorned with flowers and vines. The Elders occupied one canopy, Mr. Dernewt another, and Mr. Semira another, while the rest of the guests found seats under the remaining canopies.

One canopy stood out, lavishly decorated with flowers that draped from top to bottom, creating a floral haven. Jerome awaited nervously, seated on a throne adorned with leopard print, awaiting his bride.

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Meanwhile, upstairs in Hilma's room, Ravea sat surrounded by women, including her mother and Hilma. Hilma, excited about becoming a grandmother, sat close by, respecting Mrs. Semira's presence. Mrs. Semira, calm and collected, braided Ravea's hair with cowrie shells, bridging the family ties forged during Jerome and Ravea's introduction.

They were both on good terms, Hilma and Mrs. Semira. They had both cleared the air between themselves during Jerome's and Ravea's premarital introduction.

On arrival, the men said nothing to each other, both of them engaging in a brutal and relentless stare down. Knowing the truth of the whole situation, the women were a lot more affable, surprising both men by going as far as even hugging. They later got the chance to speak in private when Mrs. Semira offered to help Hilma serve the food. Traditionally, visitors weren't supposed to do such and any offer to do so was immediately turned down, but Hilma understood what Mrs. Semira was up to so she agreed. Unsurprisingly, the men were stunned once again.

"How is Ravea?" Hilma eagerly asked, she'd been unusually happy ever since she realized that she was going to be a grandmother.

"She's alright, morning sickness has yet to overcome her though." Mrs. Semira replied, she was happy as well.

"Oh that's good, that means she'll be at full strength for the wedding." Hilma dropped the spoon she was using to dish rice unto a plate and made a fist to signify strength.

"Absolutely." Mrs. Semira concurred.

Hilma picked up the spoon and continued, "I can see you didn't tell your husband as well." She tilted her head in the direction of the dining room.

"Mhmm, he's too distracted right now to handle the news. In his head Jerome is the villain, I don't think he'd accept otherwise anytime soon." Mrs. Semira set aside the plate she was dishing and picked up an empty one.

"Hmph, men and their pride", Hilma scuffed lightly, "Later they'll say we're the ones with problems."

"Indeed", Mrs. Semira replied and laughed.

Hilma smiled, "Forgive my manners, my name is Hilma."

Mrs. Semira paused, "You don't introduce yourself with your husband's name?"

"Ugh, spare me the formality. We're just two happy women in here, we have the right to let our guard down every once in a while." Hilma replied naughtily then smirked.

Mrs. Semira was dumbfounded, but she agreed with Hilma, so she smiled and said, "I'm Agnes."

"Welcome to the family, Agnes."

"Likewise, Hilma."

In the meantime, the men were boring holes in each other with their eyes. Jerome sat beside his father, and Ravea on the other side of the table beside her father. They were making eye contact as well, just not as hostile.

But forgiveness wasn't in their father's vocabularies at that point in time. They both looked like they could leap over the table at any moment and rip the other person's throat out. It was hard to watch. And then, after what felt like forever, "How's business?" Mr. Semira asked

"My business is fine, how's yours?" Mr. Dernewt replied after much hesitation. He sat up and grabbed unto a glass of wine.

"Mine's fine as well, the gods be praised." Mr. Semira looked over at Jerome, "How are you feeling? I heard the culprits were quite relentless."

Jerome was about to respond but his father squeezed his lap and replied in his place, "As you can see he's fine. And yes, they were quite relentless, but you can be rest assured that we're going to find out who did this and make them pay severely for it."

"Yes yes, your honor rides on you doing so. Nevertheless, I'll do my best to find them as well-", he looked over at Jerome again, then at Mr. Dernewt, "-so that I can give them a hearty handshake for a job well done."

Mr. Dernewt was instantly riled up, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I am not repeating myself."

Mr. Dernewt dropped the glass, "How dare you? Come into my house and utter such rubbish. Have you no respect for the gods and their messenger?"

"I respected you Mr. Dernewt, I truly did, but it turns out that that respect was gravely misplaced. In the end it turns out you're no messenger of the gods, you're just a greedy, sensitive man who can only think of the loot that enters his pocket."

Mr. Dernewt chuckled dryly and replied, "At least loot enters my pocket, unlike you and the spare change you call savings."

That last statement set the cup overflow. The two men got up immediately and let go off their restraints. They wanted to rip each other apart but their children wouldn't let them. The women soon hurried out of the kitchen and rushed to separate them as well.

These two men, despite their opposition to the marriage and their animosity towards each other, both now sat under beautifully decorated canopies on the wedding grounds, directly opposite each other.