He fobbed off his empty cup on a passing servant, who seemed very surprised to have a cup placed in his open claw. Then he went to the third and final requirement of his stay at the ball, making his way to the groom's family. The counts of Crossguard, the Wyrdwings were an amiable bunch and were known for their fine diplomacy and peaceable characters. They got along well with all of their neighbours, and it was likely this reason that they had managed to secure such a good match for their son and heir. Granted, word had it that Fenislaus was an utter buffoon, so it was just as well a generation down the line those lands would belong to the Stormcrowns and not the Wyrdwings. The Wyrdwings would avoid seeing all they had worked for destroyed by an unfortunate scion, and the Stormcrowns would gain a wealthy trading city at a crossroads. Win-win. At the very least, it was a win for the Stormcrowns and an avoidance of loss for the Wyrdwings.