AN: So I actually was going to take a small break from this story but then I got several reviews that really made my day, so I had to write this. I don't want to beg for review, but believe me when I say just saying that you like the story, or any feed back at all inspires the author. So please keep up reading and enjoying my story. I might not be able to update until sometime next week, got a lot due in school. Anyways, please let me know what you guys are thinking of my story and I do hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you all for reading!

"Is that what you expect to wear to your first dinner with my son?" asked Azada as she entered Shraga's room without prior notice. She was well within her right to come in and inspect Shraga, to see if she was up to par with what she considered appropriate. Shraga turned and sighed, knowing the desert garb she was wearing was not good enough. She hung her head for only a moment in shame before she rid herself of it. It was not her fault she did not have anything better to wear.

She could not possibly help that she was born of a people that did not need to wear anything but what kept them protected from the harsh desert sun. There was no point to be ashamed of where the Gods had decided to place her in this world. She shouldn't be ashamed of what could not be helped.

"It is all I have, I am a desert Princess." explained Shraga as she turned back to look at herself in the looking glass, and this time there was a slight gleam of pride behind her lime green eyes. Azada smiled at Shraga's back. This girl had the making of a great queen, it was a shame that the King had not chosen her for Tus. Shraga was good not to show that she was shamed in any way, and a good queen did the same. Azada couldn't change anything, and she wouldn't have. She stuck to her previous notion that Shraga would be too much for Tus to handle.

As Shraga peered at herself in the looking glass, she noticed two other women enter the room to join them. They carried clothes with them, and a quaint smile on both of their pretty faces. Shraga knew she owed Azada for her supplying her with clothing for her dinner tonight with her husband. It was a very kind gesture, and it was something that Shraga would not soon forget. She could already feel that certain kinship start to develop for Azada anchor itself into her heart. It wouldn't be too long before Shraga could say she might even love the woman as a second mother.

"Come here my dear, let me dress you. These are my daughter's Naheed and Sanaz, they are both near your size so they are giving you some of their smaller things because your hips are smaller than theirs. You weren't graced with wide baby bearing hips, don't get me wrong, your hips have potential, but they aren't the hips of my daughters. Their things will be most suitable until we can get you your own things to wear." said Azada with a gentle smile.

`Shraga let herself eye her hips. She actually had always thought of them as too wide, and she took it as a compliment that they weren't as baby bearing as she thought. She had no wish to bear children anytime soon, so it warmed her to think that her hips didn't have the baby bearing appeal to them.

Shraga bowed her head in thanks as she looked back towards them and the sisters giggled together. That is when Shraga noticed that Naheed and Sanaz where twins. Both had their father's brown eyes and their mother's light brown hair, and looked identical to one another. Naheed stepped forward and held up a dark green garment that looked like a thin material tunica dress. Shraga aged the twins to be around her age. She couldn't help but wonder how many more siblings there were for her to meet in this palace.

"You can see through it." protested Shraga as she stared at the garment with a certain look of disbelief on her face. Naheed and Sanaz both laughed together again. Shraga's brow furrowed as she stared at the siblings like they were a bit mad. She did not understand why they were so amused by her complaint.

"That is the point. He is your husband, and he has the right to look upon you." said Sanaz as she held up a similar tunica but of a pale blue color and golden brocade. Shraga nervously ran a hand through her hair as she looked at both tunicas, considering them. This was a cruel joke, it had to be. They could not really think for her to wear either one of those, could they?

She looked them all in the eye and realized that they wanted her to wear one of them. She swallowed back her anger. These were the clothes that she was going to have to wear because this was her life now. And this was the way of the Persians. Seeing how she was now a Persian princess, this was what she was expected to wear for Garsiv.

Shraga knew she would have to wear one of them, and she was to choose which humiliating dress that she was going to have to endure this night in. Azada stared at Shraga amused. Shraga was sure this may be some sort of test, but judging on some of the women that she had seen around the palace, they all dressed like this. Even Azada wore a pale yellow tunica that was see through. While she wore another tunic beneath that to be more modest, she knew that she would not be allowed that same modesty until her husband told her to dress differently.

She pointed to the darker green one, at least it would cover her more than the blue one. It was night time, and the darker one would be more shadowed. Something that she could be more thankful for if she was going to have to wear the thing. Naheed gestured for Shraga to strip so they could dress her in the tunica. Shraga sighed.

She did not want the help to get dressed, she may be a princess, but she did not want to be helped. Yet she did what they wanted, she did not think they would go away unless she did so. She suddenly felt self conscious of her body. She was fit, so that wasn't the problem. It was because she was raised as a warrior, so she was a little more muscular than some women, and she had a few scars on her back.

They weren't terrible scars, just thin ones, like the one on her eye. She had been training since she was about six, and her father had been rough on her. He had told her that she would not learn unless she actually knew what it felt like to get cut with a sword. So ever since her training had started, she had been sparring with a sword. She learned quickly that way too. It also helped her be able to block out the pain that came with getting hurt during battles. Just like she had done the night before when Garsiv had struck her on the back of the hand. She had hardly felt it.

She wished she wasn't so numb to the pain. It made her feel strange sometimes. She wanted to be normal, and blocking out pain was not normal. She sighed again as she started to strip, taking her mind off of when she was a kid. It helped that the women seemed to pay no mind to her body, nor her scars. They must be used to changing in front of so many woman that it did not faze them in any way. She was not used to it so when she stood naked before her mother in law and her sister in laws, she could not help the deep blush that reddened her cheeks. She also could not help that she tried desperately to hide herself from their eyes.

Azada pulled out a box and sat it on an end table in the room. Shraga asked for the garment, and Naheed shook her head no. "We have to ready you first before you can dress." explained Naheed. Shraga nodded, and blushed all the deeper.

"Shraga, what would you rather smell like, lavender or rose? I figured a softer scent would suit you better than my stronger things." asked Azada as she looked up into Shraga's eyes.

"Lavender I suppose." she said as she watched Azada pull out a jar of scented oil. Azada opened the stopper and walked over to Shraga. She started to dab the stopper in various placed on Shraga's body. She started with Shraga's wrists, then the skin in the crook of her arm, then her neck, behind her ears, from between her collar bones, between her breasts, then to her belly button, and then ending with the back of her knees.

It was odd to have her mother in law do this to her, but to be honest once she smelled the lavender react to her body heat, she did enjoy the soft scent that she was putting off. "Now we must paint." said Sanaz as she stepped forward with a few jars of paint. Shraga pulled away when Sanaz pulled out rouge colored paint and went towards her breasts.

"What are you doing?" asked Sanaz as she looked up at Shraga.

"How about what you are doing?" asked Shraga in more of a shrill than she had planned her voice to be.

"I am rouging your nipples. Women are supposed to do it so men can better see them." explained Sanaz as if it should have been nothing but common sense to Shraga. It suddenly was stiffing hot to Shraga. She was expected not only to wear that ridiculous see through outfit; she was also supposed to paint her nipples so they could be better seen? She fanned herself with a hand as if trying to put out the flame of anger.

She was at war with herself. A small part of her wanted to do what these women asked of her, so she could better fit into the role of devoted Persian wife. But the rest of her, the side that was still all Hassansin berated herself for wanting to fit in at all. You are not Persian, so you don't have to do what they want, you are your own person, never forget that, she told herself in her head. The words echoed around in her head like the echo of someone in the mountains. Finally they anchored and real meaning sunk in. She was herself, she was Hassansin. She was not a Persian. She could play the part as much as she could, but to the core she is a Hassansin.

"Look here, I will let you dress me up in the ridiculous outfit, make me smell like a flower, and even accent my face with a little of your paints, but I will not let you paint my nipples. If my husband really wants to see me, then he can see me in private." said Shraga as she crossed her arms over her breasts in protection.

Sanaz nodded and put the lid back on the rouge with a look of humor on her pretty face. She then put a little of the makeup on Shraga's face. Azada smiled at Shraga's courage to stand up to them. Shraga should not be pushed from who she is. It really was a mighty thing to do to stand up to the Queen of Persia and her daughters. Shraga really was a feisty one, and Azada rather enjoyed her.

Xxxxxxxxx

He waited in the gardens by himself. He had sent his servant to fetch his wife so he could prepare himself a few more minutes mentally for what could possibly happen tonight. Their wedding night was nothing like he expected, so what made him think that this night could actually go according to plan?

He fingered the hilt of the sword she had given him. He wore it to dinner not to make her happy that it was by his side, but to actually prepare himself if suddenly she attacked again. He didn't know his wife yet so how was he to know that she wouldn't spring into a fighting stance upon her arrival instead of actually sit down to eat the nice meal that he had thought of himself. He did not know what she liked so he asked the cooks to prepare a meal that he liked, in hopes it would suit her as well.

Paranoid is what he was, and he knew this all too well. How could he not be with a snake of a wife that he was with? Yet at the same time he was just as paranoid as to this night going according to plan. A good dinner, a stroll through the gardens afterward, and then what? Was he supposed to kiss her goodnight? The thought of kissing her appealed to him, and made him sick all at the same time. He was attracted to her, so kissing her would be nice, but who was to say that if he did kiss her she wouldn't turn on him.

Was marriage really this hard for everyone else? He sighed at the thought that this was going to be an everyday affair with his wife. Yet at the same time, this could very well be more exciting than a wife that followed him around like a sick puppy and did everything he asked without question. Yet not knowing what to expect would be maddening. It was enough to really drive him insane in the long run.

"You look disturbed, Garsiv." said Shraga. He jumped at the sound of her voice and looked over. She was standing right next to him. He had not heard her sneak up on him at all. He composed him quickly in the company of his wife. He did not want to give her the satisfaction that she had managed to yet again surprise him. He then started to watch her like a hawk. She did not look like she was about to strike, even though her body seemed tense, but not in the way a warrior prepares for battle. She seemed more nervous.

His chest swelled with pride, but he did everything not to show it. He breathed in deeply and halted when he smelled lavender. It wafted off of her softly and he could not stop himself from finding that scent on her more than alluring. "Are you ready for dinner?" he asked with a slight smile on his face.

"Are you really wearing your sword on your hip at dinner?" she asked instead of answering. He swallowed hard as he looked into her eyes. He nodded hesitantly and she smiled. "A good warrior is always prepared." she whispered with a smile as she started towards the table to eat. He did not know that those words were something that her father had once told her when she was younger. He noticed then as she walked in front of him that she was wearing a see through tunica, no wonder she looked so nervous. He was caught between the need to laugh and the need to stare.

He stood there though, unable to look away from her backside, choosing to stare instead of laugh. He could tell she had hoped that the dress would be shadowed by the fact it was night time. What she did not count on was that the gardens were well lit with burning torches. He smiled as he watched her. She was fairly beautiful. He caught sign of those scars on her back. He could tell that the scars were made by a sword, just like the one on her eye. The scars really seemed to fit her character. He did want to ask about them, but he knew this was neither the time nor place to do so.

He shook his head and hurried to join her at the table. They ate in silence, a most uncomfortable one for they did not know how to break the ice, either one of them. He did not really know what to talk about with her, nor did she know what to talk about with him. It was very awkward for the both of them, and they both felt that tension. After they had finished Garsiv cleared his throat and looked at her with a smile. "I got you a gift." he said with a smile. She returned his kind smile and waited patiently for him to give her the trinket she knew was coming.

Garsiv smiled even more. Dinner had been nice, and he wanted it to continue to be a nice dinner. He suddenly got a thought to make it more exciting himself. She would never expect him to act like he wanted to do. It was settled, he was going to make this night more exciting. He stood quickly and turned over the table in the process. Everything skittered across the floor and broke. She was on her feet and taking stance weaponless, ready to fight. She looked surprised, but he knew she was ready. She was a better warrior than he already knew she was.

He drew his sword, knowing this would be an unfair fight for she had no weapon. He knew though that she would be able to hold her own. He struck out first and she ducked. His sword sung over her head and she took that opportunity to punch him in the middle. It did not faze him because it was a sparring punch. She then kicked him in the hand, sending his sword flying. He did not think that she would disarm him so quickly. She then spun around and stopped her fist an inch from his face.

Yes, his wife was definitely a better fighter than he had already seen from her. What sort of secrets was she hiding? He needed to learn more about her, and with time he would figure it all out.

He sighed, seemed that his fun was going to cut short. "I would love to spar, but this is your sister's dress, and I would rather not get it dirty." she explained as she withdrew her fist from near his face.

"I see." he said as he looked down at her dress. It did make sense as why she was wearing something like that. He caught the barest glimpse of the curvature of her breasts and he felt something stir within him. He also could see the outline of her hips. He knew he was allowed to look upon her like this, but it felt wrong.

"Can I have my gift now?" she asked as she drew his eyes from her breasts and hips to her eyes, the things on her body that were the most powerful thing about her. He nodded and reached within his robes and took out a long dagger with a green hilt. "I thought you would like this more than a necklace." he said.

He really managed to surprise her. She stood still and eyed the dagger. It was a good dagger. She could tell that he really looked hard to find her one with a hilt that matched her eyes. She couldn't wipe the smile off of her face. She quickly snatched it from his hands and toyed with it for a moment as if she were a child.

It was near perfect. She removed it from the sheath and expected the blade. It was sharp, very sharp. It was a beautiful blade. She smiled sweetly and returned it back to the sheath. "Thank you, it is most perfect." she said with a smile.

"It isn't much, but I figured you would like it." Garsiv said as he scratched his temple nervously. They stood there for a moment, awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. Shraga licked her bottom lip in thought. She knew her thank you wasn't as good as what he had hoped for. When she gave him the sword he had been so thankful. Her thank you had not been as joyful as it should have been.

She did what she needed to do then to prove that she was very thankful. She placed a hand behind his neck and leaned forward and pecked his cheek. At first she thought to actually kiss him, but then she decided against it. She wanted him to make that first move, not her. When she drew back she saw him blush slightly. It made her feel good that she had managed to make his cheeks turn red.

"I am glad you like it." he said.

He then held out his hand as if he wanted her to take it. She did so, and it was the first time they had held each other's hand willingly. Their fingers entwined together adoringly. He had made sure that he got her good hand instead of the one with stitches. He drew her closer to himself as he started to walk with her. "I figured we would walk through the gardens. I am sure you haven't seen them all when you were wondering around today." he said as he started to give her a tour.

She was sure he thought this was romantic. She felt guilty that she was not impressed by it. After a few minutes of them walking and him pointing out flowers he realized that she was not having fun. "You are a hard women to impress." he said with a hint of a laugh. He was not sure that he liked this about her or not.

"I am sorry, I am just not accustomed to fine things I suppose. I am from the desert." she whispered.

"I would have thought that you would be impressed by finer things seeing how you are from the desert." he said as he stopped them by a big tree in the center of the gardens.

"You must be figuring out quickly that I am not the woman you thought you were going to marry." she said with a laugh. He watched as her face lit up with that laugh and he couldn't help but to feel her joy. She liked that she was different and was not what he expected. When she stopped laughing he reached out and tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear. She grabb ed his wrist to stop him. He startled her with his touch as much as he had startled her.

He withdrew his hand and said, "You are really pretty when you actually allow yourself to laugh."

"I am sorry that I grabbed you." she apologized. They both swallowed hard and looked away from each other.

"I understand that you are not used to me yet, as I am not used to you. Eventually we will grow accustomed to each other. I am looking forward to the day when we know each other." he said as he again reached out to play with a strand of her hair. This time she allowed it. He tugged gently at her hair and she giggled. It was a sweet moment, and she felt herself starting to like Garsiv a little bit. When he let down his wall that he built around himself he was a real likable guy.

"Tell me about yourself." she demanded as she started walking with him hand in hand again. He really had to think about it before he replied. How does one really know themselves? Or how can he describe himself in a few simple words.

"I like studying military strategy. I like to look at other's mistakes and victories so I can learn and adapt on the battle field." he began with. She shook her head at him and he looked confused. "I want you to tell me about yourself Garsiv. What kind of man are you?" she asked. She had plenty of time to learn his likes and dislikes, she wanted to know deeper than that. He swallowed hard, not really knowing how to answer her.

"What kind of woman are you?" he asked instead of answering.

"I am hard headed, defiant, loyal, and… I am not sure what else I am yet." she said as she turned back to look at him. He understood a little more of what she was asking after she gave him a little insight into her.

"I guess I am strong willed, independent, and hard to be honest." he said as he thought out loud.

"What do you mean you are hard?" she asked as she found a bench for them both to sit on while they spoke to one another.

He chewed his bottom lip nervously. He had never been asked questions like this. He felt compelled to tell her everything she wanted to know, and more. He found himself wanting to reveal all his secrets, and emotions to her. Was this the bond he was supposed to feel between himself and his first wife? If so he could get used to having such a close friend.

"I suppose I mean that I usually keep to myself. Rely on myself, and it has made me tough around the edges. You are the same way you know, tough around the edges." he remarked with a smile.

"That is where you are wrong my husband, I am not tough, I am sharp." she said with a smile. They both laughed together, and they could mutually feel the tension between them to lessen ever so slightly. It was progress though, and both were happy for that progress.

"I actually have something else other than the dagger that I wanted to give you. It was my grandmother's they say. I found it this morning. I know it is probably something you don't care for, but I really want you to have it as well." he said as he pulled out this black pearl bracelet. She could not help but to feel humbled as he put it around her slender wrist. It was very pretty, and she actually liked the thing.

She eyed it adoringly and then started to wonder about Garsiv's grandmother. What kind of woman was she to possess the glossy black pearls? She really was in awe of Garsiv at that moment. It means more than he would ever know that he had given her something that was of his family. In his own way he had given a piece of himself to her, and she was still a stranger to him. This was a real start to their marriage. He was really trying, just like she had been really trying for him that morning when she gifted him that sword.

"Thank you." she whispered as if she had been stunned nearly speechless. He could tell that he really had managed to surprise her then as well. The look on her face was so peaceful, and beautiful. Without waiting any more, when she looked up again to thank him again, he leaned in and kissed her. He had not planned to do so, but he really wanted to then. Her mouth was slightly open, and he caught her off guard, but she soon recovered. She closed her mouth and let her lips form to his.

His warmth passed to her, and she could feel herself grow flushed all over. Earlier she had not thought any of this was romantic, but now she could feel the romance. It made her tingle with joy, and she grew a little dizzy from the air around them. This was her first real kiss and it was overly sweet. She had kissed boys before, but this was the first one that had ever made her feel special. The ugly boys from her village that she had kissed when she was younger never made her feel this way.

Garsiv was a handsome man. Attractive and… She couldn't place a finger on everything that she wanted to know about him. All she knew now was that he had a genuine kiss that left her wanting to learn more about her husband.

Reality set in though all too soon. They were still both children in their own way and they both know this. He broke the kiss and laughed a little because the romantic air around them all too suddenly turned awkward again. Garsiv had always considered himself to be an experienced man, but after kissing the woman he was supposed to live his entire life with, he realized there was much more that had to learn.