"You look beautiful," Lana smiled as she fixed the last piece of hair onto Beka's head with what seemed like the millionth hairpin. It wasn't easy, but when she looked in the mirror, she had to admit that it was true. The dress alone must have cost more than she even dared to imagine, the cascading fabrics overlapping again and again, each shimmering thin layer adorned with hundreds of tiny pearls, falling just short of skimming the floor as she walked. The fabrics were a light blue, but shimmered in green, turquoise, and purple as she moved in the light, and the sleeves were short to proudly display the blades at her forearms. Her hair had been worked on for hours, and put up in a loose, yet carefully planned out to the last strand, bun on her head, a few devotedly corkscrewed curls falling down to frame her face. A necklace hung around her neck, Lana had said it was from Tyr. It was adorned with tiny jewels across the entire chain, the colour matching exactly that of the dress, and similar jewels hung from her ears. She blinked a few times, trying to figure out whether the aristocratic-looking Nietzschean in the mirror was really her. Once she'd figured out it was, she smiled at Lana.

"Thank you," she said, her voice a little weak. "I guess all that time spent was worth it." The young woman nodded happily at her.

"I'm attending the ball too," she said, "but only for a short time. I'll be serving food and drinks, so I hope to see you there." Beka threw a glance at the time.

"Don't you need to start getting yourself ready then?" she enquired. "It's taken me hours, and the ball starts in forty minutes." Lana shook her head.

"I'll go soon," she said, "but there's no rush. It won't take me nearly as long."

"Why not?"

"Tyr is presenting you as the female alpha of our people tonight," she explained, "it's important you look more beautiful than anyone else. In fact, it would be seen as a disgrace for anyone else to surpass you." Beka smiled nervously.

"Wow, no pressure," she mumbled sarcastically.

"Don't worry," Lana reassured her, "you look perfect."

"Indeed she does." Both women turned to see Tyr standing at the door, a smile playing on his lips. He was wearing his usual leathers, polished to a shine, and Beka briefly wondered with some sarcasm how long it had taken him to get ready. Lana smiled and excused herself quickly.

"Are you still sure about this?" She nodded cautiously.

"Yes, I've made my decision." A broad smile split his face.

"Good. I'm looking forward to tonight." A shiver ran down her spine before she reminded herself that this was all fictional, and she was only playing along with it. Nothing was actually going to happen. "I will escort you to the ball, and I will introduce you to some of the more important people in my council. Once I am certain everyone who needs to be there has arrived, I will tell you, and you can make your declaration. Is that all right?"

She nodded. Did it matter? "Yes, that's fine," she said, her voice a little weak. She wondered at what point she would escape, and how. The plan that had formed in her head still wasn't clear, and it seemed much more difficult now that it was near.

Leaving after marrying him seemed unnecessarily cruel, and she wasn't sure whether that would lead to legal obligations, helping Tyr to recapture her. However; if he was to be with her all the time until then, escaping could prove difficult. If she was lucky, he would be pre-occupied with one of his council members, and perhaps she could excuse herself to go to the bathroom, or fetch some drinks. In any case, a safe escape was worth his public humiliation, and if she had to, she'd do it. He stepped a little bit closer and handed her a box. She recognised it, and knew what it was immediately.

"It's the same ones I gave you the first night you were here," he said. "I hoped…you'd be more receptive to them this time." She nodded, clenching them in her hand.

"Yes…I wasn't ready then."

"I understand that now, and I apologise. It was…presumptuous of me to assume you would be." She nodded.

"So, when do we leave?" she asked abruptly. He looked at his timepiece and smiled.

"We could leave now if you wish. The ball doesn't start for some time yet, but I like to be there beforehand to oversee the preparations. I can also brief you on the people you'll be meeting, and the plans for the evening."

"You don't know half of the plans for this evening," Beka thought to herself. She swallowed. Reviewing her plans quickly in her head, her chances for returning to the Andromeda seemed – in retrospect – extremely slim. It could be she'd have a better chance after marrying Tyr, when the guards would further trust her authority, but she could be certain that if she stayed another night, she wouldn't leave Tyr's palace unfertilised. The prospects of giving her friends not only the shock of being Nietzschean – but also married and pregnant – didn't seem attractive. Somehow, reality was strange enough as it was.

"Beka?" His voice sounded concerned, and she was pulled out of her thoughts.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry, I'm a bit nervous." He frowned.

"Nervous? I've never known you to get nervous."

"Well," she proceeded hesitantly, "this isn't exactly like…fighting magog, it's…new. You know?"

"I think so," he replied as he keyed in the code for the door and walked her into the corridor outside. "But there is no need to be nervous. This is a ritual performed for centuries, nothing could possibly go wrong."

"No, of course not," she replied quietly. "Nothing."