Chapter Text
“What kind of flowers do you want for the wedding?” Karalea asked her daughter, sitting down at the table with a piece of hide and a glass of redfruit juice. Karathael poured herself a glass of water to begin the day.
“I don’t need flowers, Mom. We don’t even know what’s going to be in season, because we don’t know when Dakoral is going to make journeyman.” Karathael fidgeted uncomfortably in front of her mother, sipping on the water. She may have warmed up to the idea of having a husband, if it was Dakoral, but having a wedding still seemed like a lot of unnecessary people thinking about her love life.
“Oh! I could make some instead. That would be nice, wouldn’t it, Karathael? Having gemstone flowers? Very luxurious. Then you could keep one, to remember, and the rest I could sell at the Gathers. To think, the Lady Holders will all want one of your wedding flowers.” Karalea didn’t wait for an answer. She was already drawing out sketches.
“That’s… extravagant… but ok,” her daughter conceded. She’d already determined that this wedding was more about “Karalea’s daughter” than her - or her groom, either, for that matter. She could play along if it made her mother happy, which it very much seemed to be. Karalea had never been as pleased with her as she had been these past few sevendays.
“Thalenna is already working on a design for your dress. She’ll need your measurements soon, by the way, after you pick out the color that you want,” Karalea said, still squinting at her sketch. Karathael tried to hide the rolling of her eyes by turning to set her glass down - Karalea had given her two dozen swatches of nearly the exact same color to choose from, the same ice blue her mother had worn when she married Thaeleron. It was a family color. Tradition, supposedly. So why pretend there was a choice?
“Any of them are fine, Mom. It really depends on if it’s to be in the summer or the winter, right? I don’t want to wear wool in the summer. I’d melt. Can we wait on that?” Karathael pulled the tie out of her ponytail from last night, brushing through it only to tie it back at the base of her neck.
Now it was Karalea’s turn to roll her eyes. “We can’t wait much longer. These things take a while to make. I’ll have your dad ask the Mastersmith when he’s thinking about promoting Dakoral. Then we’ll have an idea.”
“MOM!” Karathael turned bright red. She didn’t want Pop to harass the Mastersmith, and she certainly didn’t want him knowing about her love life. He was old, and he was far too important for things like that.
“What? It’s a perfectly legitimate question. I’m sure Fandarel has some idea already, we just need to know so we can plan things out. Your father will be subtle.”
Karathael tucked in her shirt, getting ready to go. “Pop is about as subtle as a hammer to the chest. But fine. If he has to. I’ve got to inventory the new shipments today. I’ll see you when I’m done.”