But a wedding as extravagant as Demion Morthrock’s to Katriona Kressinda was not to be missed, rain or not. The old aristocracy dismissively referred to it as an industry wedding and sneered at its common excess. They came nonetheless, along with everyone else. Gelbion Kressind hired the Grand Hall of Karsa for the occasion. A tall confection of a building, stone white as sugar tracery and as intricately decorated. New buildings for new money, the old families said. The Kressinds were not the wealthiest merchant clan in Karsa, but today they were paying to look like it. A stream of carriages drawn by matched dray teams arrived at the grand staircase to disgorge passengers as elegant as the building. The great and good of the city had barely time to step out before their transports were whisked off to allow the next to arrive. Servants dressed in a fantastical livery reminiscent of the Old Maceriyans greeted them at the door with drinks and flattery. A nine foot confection of spun caramel dominated the Great Hall’s rotunda, depicting the angels and devils of long ago.
