ith all my heart, your Grace."

"And you, Lady-Demoiselle Elaine?"

"It is my dearest wish, your Grace."

The Duke took the sword by the blade and extended it; they laid
their hands on the jeweled pommel.

"And do you, and your houses, avow us, Angus, Duke of Wardshaven,
to be your sovereign prince, and pledge fealty to us and to our
legitimate and lawful successors?"

"We do." Not only he and Elaine, but all around them, and all the
throng in the gardens, answered, the spectators in shouts. Very
clearly, above it all, somebody, with more enthusiasm than
discretion, was bawling: "_Long live Angus the First of Gram!_"

"And we, Angus, do confer upon you two, and your houses, the right
to wear our badge as you see fit, and pledge ourself to maintain
your rights against any and all who may presume to invade them. And
we declare that this marriage between you two, and this agreement
between your respective houses, does please us, and we avow you two,
Lucas and Elaine, to be lawfully wed, and who so questions this
marriage challenges us, in our teeth and to our despite."

That wasn't exactly the wording used by a ducal lord on Gram. It was
the formula employed by a planetary king, like Napolyon of Flamberge
or Rodolf of Excalibur. And, now that he thought of it, Angus had
consistently used the royal first-person plural. Maybe that fellow
who had shouted about Angus the First of Gram had only been doing
what he'd been paid to do. This was being telecast, and Omfray of
Glaspyth and Ridgerd of Didreksburg would both be listening; as of
now, they'd start hiring mercenaries. Maybe that would get rid of
Dunnan for him.

The Duke gave the two-hand sword back to his esquire. The young
knight who was carrying the green and tawny shawl handed it to him,
and Elaine dropped the black and yellow one from her shoulders,
the only time a respectable woman ever did that in public, and her
mother caught and folded it. He stepped forward and draped the Trask
colors over her shoulders, and then took her in his arms. The
cheering broke out again, and some of Sesar Karvall's guardsmen
began firing a pom-pom somewhere.

* * * * *

It took a little longer than he had expected to finish with the
toasts and shake hands with those who crowded around. Finally, the
exit march started, down the long walkway to the landing stage,
and the Duke and his party moved away to the rear to prepare for
the wedding feast