FORTY-SIX

                Jindra was in the small dressing room assessing her appearance in the large oval mirror on the wall over the vanity table.  As soon as Marco had pulled away, a boy had emerged from the inn and hurried to her side to take her luggage.  "This way Miss -- right this way."  After she was ushered into the main room, an older man came forward and gave her a warm smile.  "Ah, right on time, Miss -- your suite is all ready and I have one of my upstairs girls ready to assist you in anyway.  If you'll follow me, we'll get you all settled in."  The man was practically beaming at her.   With the boy following behind, Jindra followed the innkeeper upstairs.

                As Marco had promised, the suite was very nice -- in a cozy kind of way.  The furniture was old, but well cared for -- dark mahogany wood that glowed with the shine of beeswax.  There were several vases of fresh flowers scattered around the room and the fireplace had been stacked with kindling in anticipation of being used later.   The boy put her luggage on the bed while Jindra fished a few coins out of her black leather bag.  He gave her a small bow as she pressed them in his hand before the innkeeper shooed him out the door. "Now if you need anything Miss, just pull the bell cord.  I'll send Abigale right in."  He smiled at her before closing the door.

                Jindra hurriedly opened the big bag that held her dress and other accessories.  Shaking out the folded silk, she made a frustrated sound as she surveyed the gown.  "Just great -- I knew it."  There was a light knock on the door and Jindra put the dress down on the bed as she went to answer it.  Opening the door she found a girl, about her age, smiling at her.  "I'm Abigale, Miss," the girl gave her a small curtsey.  "I'm to help get you all ready for your big day."  Jindra stood aside and let the girl come in.  The maid's eyes immediately fell on the dress strewn across the bed.  "Oh my, Miss -- what happened to your beautiful dress?  Well, don't you worry none -- I can take care of that for you."  Taking up the dress, she went to the door, I'll have this pressed out in flash;" she promised, closing the door behind her.  Bless you Marco Dimetra -- infuriating creature that you are; Jindra smiled as she finished unpacking her things.

                Jindra had unpacked, touched up her hair and make up and was sitting on the bed wrapped in her robe when Abigale returned with the dress.  "Just as I promised you, Miss -- good as new it is."  Jindra smiled at her, "Thank you so much, you did a beautiful job."  The girl blushed and dropped another curtsey.  "Are you already to get dressed?"  Jindra nodded her head.  "Then I'll just take this into the dressing room for you."  Jindra followed the maid into the adjoining room.

                "Oh Miss, you look so beautiful."  Abigale exclaimed as Jindra looked at herself in the mirror.  "That color is really becoming . . . your new husband is gonna be over the moon when he sees you, I just know it!"  The maid stepped forward to brush at something on the sleeve of the dress.  Jindra blushed at the girl's compliment.  Abigale then walked around her in a circle, taking one last look.  "As perfect as you can get, Miss."

                Jindra smiled her thanks and pressed some coins into the maid's hand, "Thank you, Abigale -- you've been a tremendous help."  Jindra had taken the money out earlier while she waited for the maid to return with her dress.  The girl gave her a deep curtsey, "Thank you Miss, you're too generous."

                There was loud knock on the outer door, "Jin -- it's me.  Can I come in?" Folken's voice inquired.

                Abigale smiled, "Is that your husband-to-be, Miss?  Oh no -- you stay right here and I'll go let him in; then you can make a grand-like entrance."  The girl hurried out into the other room and Jindra heard the murmur of voices and then the closing of the door.  She felt her stomach fluttering once again and she put her palms across her midsection and took a breath. 

                "Jin -- the maid said you were just finishing . . ." Folken trailed off and caught his breath as Jindra emerged from the dressing room.  "Gods . . . Jin . . . " He stepped towards her and took her hands, "You -- you look . . . you look so beautiful."  He let go of her left hand and lightly stroked her cheek.  "That dress . . . it's the one you were wearing at Coren's party . . . I remember, I thought you looked so beautiful then, too."

                For once, Jindra didn't blush; instead her eyes welled up at the tender emotion in Folken's voice and the admiration that she saw in his eyes.  Standing on her toes, she brushed his lips with a kiss.  "I thought it might be appropriate -- that was the first night that you kissed me."

                Dropping her other hand, Folken put his arms around her and hugged her to his chest.  "Kissed you and fell in love with you -- but I think I might have been in love with you before then, I just hadn't realized it yet."

                Jindra pulled away from him and ran an appraising eye over his attire.  "You've been shopping, I see."  She reached out and touched the fabric of his coat. "You look so handsome . . . not that you weren't already . . . but . . . you look so -- so noble and dashing."  He smiled at her, "Glad you approve, my lady."

                Folken reached into his coat, "As beautiful as you are Jindra, there's just one thing missing . . ." He pulled a black velvet pouch out of the breast pocket.  Opening the pouch, he spilled what looked like a necklace out into his metal palm.  "It's a little late, but I never did get you a proper betrothal gift."

                Jindra saw that it was indeed a necklace, with a large tear-drop shaped pendant suspended from a fine gold chain.  "Folken -- it's beautiful . . . where . . . "   Folken held it out to her and she took it in her hands.  Looking at the pendant, she saw that it was clear, like crystal and inside was what appeared to be a lock of Folken's hair.   Jindra looked up at him, "Its -- is that your hair?"  He nodded and took the necklace from her.  "But how . . . how did you do that?"

                Folken took the necklace and slipped it over her head; the chain was long enough that the pendant nestled between her breasts, resting just below her heart.  Jindra took the pendant in her hand and looked at it again.  "Its crystal, isn't it?  Like the one that you gave me."

                He nodded again, "Yes -- I made this one, too.  I put a lock of my hair in it before it hardened."  He put his hand over hers, "I wanted something that would remind you of me every time you looked at – a part of me that would always be with you, even if I wasn't."   Folken smiled at her. 

                The idea of the pendant had come to him in the middle of the night.  He had been trying to think of something to give her – something that would be unique and personal.  Seeing the crystals that Master Lacroix had made that contained flowers and insects had given him the idea; however it took him several days to decide on just what he wanted to capture for her.  After wrangling with it for a while, he finally decided on a lock of his own hair.  It was certainly unique and personal – and he thought that it was also quite romantic too.  A piece of me, always touching her – resting over her heart.  It had taken him only a short time to make the crystal and he was pleased by how clear it had come out.  Taking it to a jeweler, Folken then had it cut and shaped to his specifications and the gold chain added.    He had been so pleased with it, that he couldn't wait to give it to her.

                But Folken had also wanted the necklace to become more than just a betrothal gift – he wanted it to become a legacy for the family that he hoped to have with Jindra.  Had he still been a prince of Fanelia, his wife would have received a legacy of jewels and other items that were passed down to each generation on their wedding day.  But since that would never be possible, Folken hoped that when the day came that a son or daughter of theirs would wed, that the necklace could be passed down -- a family heirloom to be cherished.  An heirloom with a story of love and determination attached to it.  Folken hoped to see the day when his son or daughter would give it to their son or daughter. 

                Jindra looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes.  "It's beautiful . . . and so precious . . ." She reached up her other hand and pulled his head down towards her.  "I can't believe you did something like this for me."  She pressed his lips with an almost urgent kiss and Folken responded by releasing her hand and putting his arms around her.  The two kissed deeply, their mouths eager and questing.  It was a few minutes before the two pulled apart -- both of them breathless.

                Jindra held the pendant up and looked at it once again.  Glancing up at Folken, she brought it to her lips and kissed it.  "It's beautiful . . . it's the most perfect gift anyone has ever given me."  Folken smiled at her and stroked her cheek.

                Jindra started under his hand, "I have something for you too."  She turned to the night stand next to the bed and reached for the wooden case that she had placed there earlier.  "A betrothal gift isn't part of Zaibach custom, so this is  . . . it's more of a wedding present, I guess -- well, one of them anyway."

                Folken took the case from her and sat down on the edge of the bed.  Placing it across his knees, he carefully undid the three small latches that held it closed.  Slowly opening the lid, Folken let out a breath as he looked at the gleaming blade inside, resting on a bed of dark green satin.  "Jin . . . gods above and below . . . it's . . ." He looked up at her and then back down at the sword.

                Folken slowly reached in, took the sword by the hilt, and gently lifted it out.  Placing the case on the bed next to him, he stood and looked at the blade in his hand.  Carefully taking a few practice swings, he marveled at the feel -- the balance was perfect and the hilt fit into his palm like it had been made for him.  As he examined the long, slightly curved blade further, his practiced eye could see the expert craftsmanship that had gone into its making.  Folken transferred the hilt to his metal hand and then lightly ran his fingers down the blade's gleaming length, "Jin . . . where . . . how . . . where did you get this?"  He looked at her with wide eyes.  "Do you know what this is?"

                Jindra nodded her head, "It was made by Danid LeMora -- he was one of the legendary master sword makers of Gaea; his mark is on the blade right above the hilt."  Folken looked down where she indicated.  "He made the ceremonial swords used by the Knights Caeli of Asturia;" she continued, somewhat calmly.  "This particular sword was made not long before his death -- it's almost two hundred years old."

                Folken snapped his head up, "Two hundred years . . . Jin, this is . . . I can't believe . . ." he shook his head, unable to continue.  Dropping his metal arm to his side, he stepped towards Jindra and pulled her into his embrace and kissed her -- all the while savoring the feel of her body pressed against his.

                The two were interrupted by a knock on the door, "Excuse me . . .  but – but there's a carriage here for you."  Jindra recognized the voice of the boy who had carried her luggage up to the room.

                Folken cleared his throat. "Thank you . . . we'll be right down;" he called out.  Folken gave Jindra a lingering look and quickly kissed her once again.  Taking the sword, he reverently placed it back into its wooden case and closed the lid.  Jindra meanwhile, I had gone back into the dressing room for a quick touch up.  Leaving her black leather satchel, she instead reached for a small silk purse that matched her dress.  Before leaving, she patted the purse to make sure that Folken's other gift was inside.  Taking a deep breath, she joined him in the main room. 

                He held out his hand to her and she smiled as she took it.  Pulling her closer he looked into her eyes, "There's still time to run."  Jindra met his gaze, "Fat chance Lacour -- you're not getting off that easily."

                He smiled at her, "I wouldn't have it any other way.  So, you want to get married today or what?"

                Jindra tried to sound nonchalant, "I guess so . . . I really didn't have any other plans."  Then she batted her eyelashes at him and gave him that coy little smile that she knew he liked, "We can save the 'what' for later."

                Folken arched his brow and gave her a rakish smile that reminded her of Coren and Marco.  "Just what could you be referring to, my dear lady."

                Jindra very slowly licked her top lip with her tongue, "I think I'd rather show you then tell you."  Folken gave her a slow smile, "Well, I've always preferred a more hands-on approach myself . . ."

                "And very nice hands they are too, if I recall."  Jindra replied.  "But there's a little matter of a wedding ceremony . . . and I do believe we're going to be late if we don't go now."

                Folken raised Jindra's hand to his lips.  "The sooner the better . . ." He let go of her hand and reached for the door knob, "After you, my love."

                Jindra turned towards him before she stepped through the door.  "I love you," she said, as she stroked her hand down his cheek.  Folken caught her hand, "Not as much as I love you -- but let's not argue about that right now.  We can wait until later, that way we can have our first fight as husband and wife."  He smiled at her, "Then we can spend the rest of day making up -- what do you think about that."

                Jindra smiled and pulled her hand away, "I think I need my head examined.  Remind me again -- why am I marrying you?"

                "Because you love me?"

                "Oh, that's right.  Silly me -- I almost forgot."

                He stroked her face with his hand, brushing the tips of his fingers across her bottom lip.   "Don't worry, I'll make sure you never forget -- I'm going to remind you everyday."

                Folken took her hand as he led her down the stairs to the lobby.  The innkeeper wished them good luck as they passed by the front desk.  Abigale was waiting by the door, a small bouquet of flowers in her hand, "Here Miss, you should have some flowers on your wedding day."  Jindra smiled and thanked the girl as she took the bouquet.

                The two finally made it into the waiting carriage.  Sitting side-by-side, Jindra leaned her head on Folken's shoulder while the two held hands.  They remained mostly silent, although every once in a while, Folken would raise Jindra's hand to his lips and kiss it.

                They arrived at the registrar's office rather quickly -- it being only a few blocks from the inn.  Surprisingly, the driver jumped down to open the door for the couple.  Folken climbed down first and then took Jindra's hand as she stepped out.  Still holding hands, the two walked up to the front door and stopped briefly.  Looking at one another, they both smiled and kissed once more.   Folken squeezed Jindra's hand before letting go to pull open the door.  Jindra took a deep breath and stepped through the door; and with a smile on his face, Folken followed her.