she looked like. No one would mind as this was not about her at all: it was about the joining of

two nations, not a girl and a boy. Her hair was hidden under a sunburst gold headdress and veil,

her face paint retouched.

"You are ready, Your Highness," declared the Etiquette Mistress, noting with quiet approval the composure of the Crown Princess, whom she had always considered too free with her emotions.

"You do honor to our people," she added with a rare touch of warmth.

The Royal Chamberlain led the way to the feasting hall where the Gerfalian court was already

assembled. Tashi peeked over his shoulder at the open door and saw that there were hundreds

of strangers all waiting for her. She felt terrified. And one of them was to be her husband. They

all seemed the same to her--the bearded men with long wild hair and strange clothes, the

women with low-necked gowns that clung to their shapely forms, leaving little to the

imagination, so unlike the fair-haired, pale-skinned people of her own

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court. If a woman ventured in public like one of these Gerfalians, she would be considered half-

dressed; an unshaven man would be censured by the priests.

"Her Highness, Taoshira of Kai, the Fourth Crown Princess of the Blue Crescent Islands and

dependent territories," announced the Chamberlain.

The room fell silent. Tashi walked smoothly up the central aisle, keeping her eyes locked on the

man at the center of the long table in front of her. She reached the bottom of the dais and

bowed as befitted one ruler greeting another.

"Your Majesty," she said in Common.

"Princess Taoshira, you honor all Gerfal with your presence." King Lagan came down the steps to greet her, kissing her hand in Gerfalian style. Tashi had been warned to expect this so did not

flinch at the contact. "Please be seated at my side."

He led her to her chair. Tashi noted with pleasure that it was of equal magnificence to his own.

She swept her gown into an arc as she sat. A dog promptly flopped down on it, drooling on the

priceless fabric. King Lagan bent and stroked the beast.

"My favorite hound," he said in explanation. "Do you like dogs, Princess?"

Warming to this fatherly man, Tashi was about to tell him about her own dog, the one who

helped her keep her flocks safe on Kai, but then remembered her status.

"I love all animals created by the Mother," she replied, giving the answer the priests had taught 44

her.

"What, even wasps and wolves--and pigs?" A young

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man snorted on her other side.

Tashi turned to him with a frown. He looked different from the others--his skin was darker and

his black hair tightly curled like a Southerner. She wondered if he was some kind of entertainer,

a court jester perhaps. He was very sloppily dressed and had already spilt something on his red

velvet tunic.

"Yes, even those, for they all have their place in the Mother's plan for her world," she said in a haughty tone that the Third Princess would have been proud of.

King Lagan was looking thunderous but he struggled to keep his temper.

"Princess, may I introduce my son, Prince Ramil, to you."

Tashi faltered. "This is Prince Ramil?"

"Yes, this is Prince Ramil," the young man repeated, giving her an insolent smile and tapping his chest.

"Ramil!" warned the King.

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"Oh, I apologize, Princess. I am hopeless at these sort of introductions."

Ramil seized her hand and kissed it quickly. "You-honor-us-with-your-presence," he gabbled.

Tashi was aware that all eyes were upon them. She wanted to slap the boy for his behavior but

instead clasped her hands in her lap. It was worse than she had feared: he was unspeakably rude

and not even trying to be pleasant to her.

"Thank you, sir," she replied quietly, trying not to show that she was upset.

"Your welcome to a stranger displays all the qualities I have come to expect of Gerfalians."

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Ramil frowned. If he was not mistaken, the little peasant had just reprimanded him.

"And your present to me on your arrival--apologies that I was unable to attend, by the way--

shows all the generosity of your people." He pulled a sorry-looking piece of paper out of his

pocket. To Tashi's horror, he spread it flat, obliterating her model, and made a crude paper dart.

"Here, accept this with my dutiful best wishes." He dropped it in her lap.

"What's this?" said King Lagan, picking up the dart and looking at it in confusion.

"A love token, Father," said Ramil, tucking into the plate of meat in front of him.

"Strange token, my boy. There's nothing written on it."

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Ramil merely smiled and shrugged. "The Princess understands. It's a Blue Crescent tradition."

Tashi swallowed and dug her nails into her palm to control herself. She feared she was going to

burst into tears in front of all these barbarians. The gold trimmings of her headdress trembled.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I find I am tired after the long voyage. I will retire. Please enjoy the feast in my absence." Tashi rose to her feet and swept from the hall before anyone could

stop her.

Everyone jumped to their feet to bow as the Princess made her escape. King Lagan narrowed his

eyes at his son.

"What?" said Ramil innocently.

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Chapter 3

The King and his ministers were holding an emergency meeting. The Crown Princess had refused

to leave her quarters for the last week, and

preparations for the wedding were making no progress as the Blue Crescent delegation was

withholding its cooperation.

"What has got into the girl?" asked the King. "She said she was tired. She can't still be tired!"

Prince Ramil sprawled in his chair, feeling quietly pleased with this development. Perhaps his

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father might be having second thoughts about the advisability of the union.

"Your Majesty, I have spoken to the Etiquette Mistress," replied Lord Taris,

"and, after much prevarication, I persuaded her to explain the situation. It appears our greetings turned out in Crescent culture to be a catalogue of insults to the Princess."

"Insults! But you met her yourself! We held a feast in her honor. What more could Her Highness

want?" King Lagan stroked his favorite hound's silky ears to

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calm himself. His country was on the brink of disaster and all because of some white-faced girl

who was keeping to her room in a tantrum. He wanted to box her ears. Didn't she understand

what was at stake?

"I fear we got it wrong from start to finish. The worst insult apparently was offered by Prince

Ramil himself."

The King rounded on his son. "What did you do?"

Ramil sat up indignantly. "Nothing. You were there. She sent me this stupid paper bird. How

about that for insults!"

"That 'stupid paper bird,' Your Highness, was her personal sign, the dragonfly," said Lord Taris.

"Didn't look anything like a dragonfly," grumbled Ramil.

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"To hand your symbol to another is to entrust them with yourself--the fragility of the paper

expressing the delicacy of each person's soul."

"Oh." Ramil started to have an inkling of what he had done.

"Your son took this gift, flattened it out, and made it into a paper dart."