Nimue was not at all pleased that one of the first acts of love was to shove cake in her face. She froze for a minute and politely smiled as she wiped her face clean. She was careful to not allow it to spoil her wedding dress. Thinking of her own vows that spoke of feeding him from her own hand and how it would be sweeter than honeycomb, Nimue took a deep breath to calm herself before cutting a small bit of cake for Maric and tenderly feeding him. She made sure to place the sweet morsel on his tongue with dignity and love, before turning her attention on the guests that stepped up to take generous slices of the almond cake with the buttercream frosting.<br/><br/>At a commotion from the road, Nimue paused in visiting with guests, to see a troupe of monks coming to the party, faces a mixture of fiery red and ice white, demanding them to halt their pagan activities. The happy  music straggled to a halt.  Before Nimue or Maric could answer, Layla stretched her neck out and breathed a wreathe of smoke around the pious little rodents. Amid their coughing and instantly tearing eyes, Lady Vivianne said,<br/>“There is nothing pagan about the holy union of people who love each other. For doesn’t the Man/God’s servant say, God is love and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God and God in him? Why don’t you stay for cake?”<br/><br/>The man spat and sputtered until finally Layla took flight. He postured and posed, throwing his accusatory finger about when suddenly, the sun was blotted out and the dragon swooped in on the entourage and scooped up the four men in his claws. Flapping her mighty wings, she headed back to the monastery. Nimue looked at Maric and laughed. The music began again and the dancers resumed their gaiety.