Chapter 143: A Decadent Gathering
With the arrival of so many esteemed guests, the feast Owain prepared needed to be far grander than the sad affair that had welcomed him to the summer villa. This time, even though his father Bors declared that it should be a feast for the young ones, more than fifty distinguished guests had arrived to fill the tables of the great hall.
The cooks had begun work as soon as they received a message the night before that Jocelynn would be arriving today. Three whole venison, two large boars and countless fowl had been roasted on giant spits before being placed on the feasting tables for carving.
Casks of wine had been tapped just for this occasion and hopped ale flowed freely from kegs brought by the Church of the Holy Lord of Light. If Owain had one complaint for the evening it was that the casks of foamy ale weren’t the only things that had come from the temple at the heart of the city.
"Loman," Owain said, throwing his arms open wide to greet his younger brother. "I thought that you had taken a vow of isolation these past few months. What made you carry your shoes all the way here to attend our little gathering?"
Loman did his best not to frown at the festivities taking place in the great hall. The musicians played bright, joyous songs and the tumblers and jugglers provided a lively mood. If these were the only entertainers his brother had arranged, it would have been within the bounds of propriety.
His brother, or perhaps his new Steward Hugo, had gone further to ’enhance the ambiance.’ All around the great hall, attractive men and women had been painted in silver and gold body paint to resemble nude statues perched on pedestals atop tables covered with sweets and confections. These ’living statues’ moved from one suggestive pose to another while some guests called out suggestions for more ’interesting’ poses.
"I don’t remember your feasts having quite this tone, Brother," Loman said, struggling to keep the disapproval from his voice. "Are you sure this is the way for a married man to welcome his sister-in-law?"
"Pay it no mind," Owain said, guiding his brother up to the high table where the other distinguished guests waited. "I’m told that this has become popular in the Royal Capital recently, it’s only now making its way out here. I wouldn’t want my beloved Ashlynn’s sister thinking of us as country bumpkins in the hills, would I?"
"It is indeed a trend in the Royal Capital," a crisp, authoritative voice said from behind Loman as they walked toward the high table. It had been Inquisitor Diarmuid who pressured Loman into coming to the banquet in the first place.
Clearly, the younger Lothian brother was still uncomfortable around Owain, especially with the casual way that the elder brother lied about his murdered wife. Since it had been his need to attend that forced the younger brother back into his ancestral home, Diarmuid felt that taking the attention off of him was the least he could do.
"This trend actually started in the Holy City," Diarmuid explained. "People would assume poses from sacred art while ’Clad only in Light,’ during important gatherings in the church. The imitations, however, are much less... spiritual," he said, turning away from the painted, posing men and women.
"Inquisitor," Owain said as he struggled to maintain his composure. His last encounter with the Inquisitor had been far from pleasant, but they could hardly bar one of the Church’s investigators from Lothian Manor, even if he wanted to. "I hadn’t expected you to be joining us."