This work is copyright M.A. Mohanraj 1996, all rights reserved. Please don't repost this or make it publically accessible via FTP, mail server, or archive site without my explicit permission.
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It was her first moment alone in twelve days, and she cherished it, holding it to her like a gift far more precious than the dozen purebred peacocks in the courtyard or the teardrop ruby hanging at her throat. The ceremony arranged by his parents and her own would be completed, her fate sealed to his. And tonight, oh tonight would be the marriage feast, and the prince, her lord, would claim her as his own. Perhaps if she drank enough wine, she could forget that tonight she would become his bride. She could lose herself in wine and music and poetry, at this final feast.