AN: Alas I have finally found the time to post this! This may be rough in grammar and I apologize in advance for that. I have reread this probably so many times that I could recite it. My problem is I start to just add to it instead of just looking for mistakes. So if any of you find any please let me know and I will edit it. Sorry if it is short, I swear though I have been working on it so long that it felt longer than what it really is. I hope you enjoy.

He had explained everything to them all, and no matter how proud he was about how he had taken the notion to marry this stranger, he had done it without the council of his family. There was also the under tone from the questions he had received that made him realize the woman standing behind him was not of royalty. The marriage didn't offer anything but personal appeasement to his conscious. The alliance of marriage to a prince was to help both parties involved. Shraga was a desert princess so their marriage brought the allegiance of their people together. The marriage to Iryanna did nothing to their kingdom, as well as nothing for her people. He had long learned that Iryanna came from a simple folk and she had been nothing but a serving girl amongst them.

He could feel their disapproval. More than anything though, he knew that Iryanna felt it too. She stood where he had left her when he went to greet Shraga, and she stuck out like a flame in the dead of night. His brothers stared her over as he explained. So had his adoptive mother and most of all his father. Some gazes had been judgmental, others just seemed perplexed. There had been a few times he had met the gaze of his father and had fell silent with his tale because he couldn't seem to tell what his father was thinking.

Garsiv could not see the harm in his hasty marriage because she wasn't of a lineage that would benefit their status. Dastan had been brought into the palace and raised as his brother and he had been nothing more than a street urchin. If Tus and Garsiv both passed, it was the adoptive street urchin who would succeed them all. So this being the case of his father's compassion he couldn't believe anyone would be having a difficult time with accepting Iryanna.

Shraga was the only one who seemed to refuse to look at her. There were so many things that needed to be aired. He needed to get Shraga alone so they could speak. Their eyes met, and his brown eyes softened so much towards her. While his eyes softened to the woman he loved, hers stayed cold. He never missed the flicker of her muscle twitching on her jaw. Heavy with guilt, his heart fell into his stomach. Did love always hurt this much? And when had he become so sure he truly loved Shraga? The woman was stranger to him.

It was in this moment he realized. There had been times before where he had contemplated the feelings he had for his first wife, and there had been times where he decided he loved her. It wasn't until this moment he truly understood the love he had for this wondrous stranger.

A year of being away from the stranger he called his wife she had changed. There had been a time about a month ago in the desert when he had thought Iryanna's beauty surpassed his Shraga's. Standing in front of her now, looking at her for the first time in the longest time, he realized that his fiery red headed wife had blossomed into a true beautiful woman.

Her hair had grown and was even wilder with curls than it had been before. She had also filled out. Beneath the see through yellow gown she wore he could see the swaying of her breasts as she breathed. She had been so thin when he left, only her muscles gave her the shape she had had, and her breasts weren't as big as they are now. She had gained a healthy amount of weight. He could see her shapely legs as well. Once he had glanced them before he had left and could see the sinew of her muscles moving beneath her skin. Now her thighs were deliciously plump. She was still thin in stature, but she had filled out nicely in the year. Her body had become more womanly.

He looked back into her gaze after assaulting her body with his eyes. He caught the scar over her eye and he reached out and ran his thumb over the top of her scar. He needed to be alone with his first wife so he could speak to her, and also so he could touch her. When he withdrew his hand from her, he resisted the urge to grab a handful of her wild curls. Later, he promised himself. Later couldn't come sooner, he thought though a bit disappointed that he needed to still speak with her. A year was a long time to be away from someone he had grown to care for before he had left. He had cared for her too, but only now did he truly know he loved her.

Garsiv would be an idiot to believe that Shraga wasn't angry. He had married another woman. Without a doubt he knew she would understand when he was able to explain that he had let his pity for the woman guide him in the decision. He glanced over his shoulder at Iryanna who gave him a small genuine smile despite the way everyone made her feel displaced.

"You must be exhausted," Shraga stated.

He turned back to Shraga and answered that he was, but he realized she wasn't speaking to him. She had her intense green gaze locked onto Iryanna when she spoke. Iryanna tried to speak, but when she opened her mouth no words came forth. He had warned Iryanna that Shraga could be intense. When he had warned her it was so she would be able to stand up for herself if need be. The girl didn't even had need to stand up for herself because Shraga was being kind, and the girl couldn't even say anything. Meekly she nodded her head that she was tired.

"Come, let us get you cleaned up and then you may rest," Shraga said taking charge. He was proud of her, she was his first wife, and she asserting her dominance in his household. Iryanna nodded and started forward, everyone watching her move to Shraga's side.

"Excuse us Garsiv, and Saraman my king," Shraga stated as she started to turn to leave.

"Mother, accompany them will you?" suggested Tus before they could leave the throne room. Garsiv watched as their mother nodded that she would help. Everyone knew why they wanted Azada there. It was in case Shraga became angry with the woman. There needed to be someone there to calm Shraga down in case if the women didn't get along. They all started moving again to the exit.

"Shraga?" called Garsiv.

She stopped and turned and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Yes?"

"When you are finished helping Iryana, join me in my chambers," he commanded. They started at each other for a long moment before she tilted her head to him in acknowledgement. He was relieved that she didn't just shoot him an angry look and move on like he thought she would have done. She truly had grown so much.

She took Iryanna to the harem that was reserved just for the Princes' wives and concubines. Seeing how there were just the two of them, the room stood empty besides the sudden entourage of serving women who joined them. Shraga turned to her own handmaiden and requested the girl to go retrieve several of her best gowns so that Iryanna could borrow a few of her choosing. It wasn't as if she flashed it in the other woman's face that she was going to allow her to borrow her best gowns, it was just she felt that if they were going to have to share her man, they might as well share her things. To this day Shraga still wasn't materialistic anyways.

"The blue stola from the Macedonian merchants too. I think Garsiv will be pleased with that color on her. It will bring out her eyes, and her lovely hair." The servant nodded and bowed before leaving. Shraga didn't have to see the surprise on Iryanna's face to know the woman was perplexed by the gesture.

They entered the chamber and Iryanna beamed with what looked like awe as well as fear. Shraga eyed her without trying to hide it. The other woman was lovely, and by comparison nothing like Shraga. Had he disliked her so much he had to marry the complete opposite of her? A sadness inched its way into her heart in a worse way than it had when she had thought they were bringing his body here to the palace. Had she truly been so displeasing?

Iryanna turned her blue eyes to Shraga's and they held each other's gaze for a moment. There was respect shinning behind those sapphire orbs. She feared Shraga, but respected her authority. How could she? Unless Garsiv hadn't explained that even to this day his and Shraga's marriage had not been consummated. Had he already touched her? Bile rose to her throat and she swallowed it down. Of course he had. How could he not? It had been a fallacy to think that he would actually wait to receive Shraga's most intimate object, her virginity, when he hadn't wasted a moment in marrying Iryanna. All men eventually gave into their base needs.

In a moment of anger at herself she found that she truly couldn't be mad with him because this woman still hadn't the idea that Shraga hadn't been touched, and it was his right to marry her anyways. Above all she found the hate she felt for this woman start to melt away. Could she truly hate her when she was nothing more than a victim? She had been asked to marry a prince while out in a desert. How could she had said no? Base desires for women could be their undoing too. Shraga suffered internally for two other people's bad decisions, but she would not let this make her a victim. She just hadn't the clue that it would be harder not to become a victim than she originally thought.

"There is a bathing pool through here," explained Shraga as she turned and started towards a door.

"You don't have to do this for me," said Iryanna hurriedly. Shraga stopped and turned. Azada who has been silent the entire time finally took the moment to speak.

"Of course she has to my dear, you are now her sister."

"I just don't want to burden you."

"It isn't a burden to help you," said Shraga, trying to sound convincing. It was a burden but she had a responsibility now to this woman because she was loyal to her husband.

Iryanna considered Shraga a moment. Silently judging her. Shraga hadn't the slightest thought as to what the other woman could be thinking. Frankly though, she didn't rightly care either. Let the woman think what she will. She had a mind of her own and she had every right to use it.

"Garsiv has never spoken ill of you. He has praised your strength and mind ever since I have gotten to know him. I however pictured you in an ill light of my own choosing. I stand corrected though. I feel I must apologize for thinking so negatively of you without knowing you."

Shraga was silent for a moment and regarded the other woman's words carefully. There seemed nothing ill of her words, and the sincerity of which they were delivered touched Shraga's heart. This woman had been through a great ordeal, and she stood apologizing to her new sister. Shraga couldn't deny the strength it took to do that, admit you were wrong.

"Don't apologize yet, you may still end up hating me," replied Shraga with a smile. It took a woman to apologize and admit that they were wrong of thought. Iryanna passed her a sweet smile back and it pulled at Shraga's heart again.

"What my…. Our husband may not have told you because he doesn't yet know himself is I am the jealous sort. As much as I find I want to apologize for receiving you so coldly, I find I cannot. I however will show you the kindness you deserve because you are my sister. With time I will learn to accept you I promise. For now though it is-"

"Hard. It is hard for you. I understand, and I do not begrudge you of your feelings towards me nor Garsiv. I find if I were in your place and you in mine, I wouldn't be able to do what you are doing for me now. You are just as strong as he told me, if not stronger."

Shraga couldn't stop the feeling of pride that swelled up through her at hearing those words. Garsiv had spoken about her with such praise. As happy as she felt for his words, his actions still twisted at her heart. There was a moment where Shraga's face fell and she glanced towards the exit.

"You should go to him," Iryanna suggested kindly. "You haven't seen him in so long, and I am sure wish to see him in private."

"I promised to help you first."

"But you have, and I am sure Queen Azada of Persia can make sure I look respectable as well as with the help of your hand maidens."

"Shraga, go," commanded Azada. Shraga found it odd that Azada agreed with Iryanna. What was even more surprising is when Azada didn't tell the girl just to call her Azada.

Shraga tried to gauge how the older woman felt about the younger girl. She couldn't tell though. Without too much more thought though, Shraga bowed her head to both of them and left.

"I didn't expect you so soon," he said when she entered his chambers. He had just arrived and hadn't done anything else but start removing his weapons when Shraga joined him. The door shut behind her but she moved no further into his room. Staying near the entrance made him think that it was her safety net. By the look on her face, she didn't want to be alone in his room near him.

"Iryanna requested that I come to see you, Azada stayed with her."

He nodded. It was something that he would expect from Iryanna in the short amount of time he had known her. She was a sweet girl of fifteen years old. While there were times he had truly questioned is decision to marry her, there were times like now he didn't because of her selflessness. The girl had a kind heart.

Now wasn't the time to discuss the morality of his second wife. Now was the time to discuss the many things he knew he needed to tell Shraga. The way she couldn't seem to make eye contact with him now that they were alone bothered him. He had wounded her pride more than anything he figured. If there had been one thing he had learned about Shraga before he departure a year ago, it was she was a prideful creature.

"I pitied her," he blurted out. "She had gone through so much I presumed with losing everyone she knew, and then having been chained up like an animal…" He didn't really know what else to say in explanation for his actions so his voice trailed off.

"Pity is a horrible emotion to make a huge decision on," she whispered. "Especially when you very well could have just offered her a position as a servant in palace."

He nodded his agreement. It was a bad emotion to have while he made a decision that changed his life. It didn't just change his life, it changed her life as well. More than that, he very well could have just offered her a place among his home as a servant. Iryanna's beauty had clouded his decision though. Garsiv found that he couldn't admit that out loud to Shraga though. The decision made had to be stood behind otherwise he would always feel the regret of it crawling into his heart.

He placed a hand on his desk to help steady himself. He wouldn't tell her he was actually too tired to have this conversation now. Garsiv owed it to Shraga hash this out. There were things she needed to understand. One of which he was her husband and his choices she as his wife had to stand behind. Fair it may not be, it was her place by his side that she had to come to terms with.

"I haven't touched her," he finally said. He knew if there was anything she needed to hear it was that. Shraga understood hierarchy among men and women. This she needed to know above anything else he could have told her in that moment. Shraga was his first wife and he wouldn't take that away from her. When they had said their vows, Iryanna and him, he had promised that he would wait to take her, just as he had for Shraga. Except Iryanna had been willing then. He had wanted too, but his promise to Shraga and knowing that she would adhere to hierarchy among his house he couldn't touch Irynaana until he had first touched Shraga.

"You couldn't wait to marry her, but you could wait to touch her?"

His entire reason on what he did make no sense to her. This he could tell. He grunted for he wasn't sure what to say. Deciding not to answer her question for it would only anger her he asked her a question instead. He understood her meaning though. If he had only waited to take her hand until they could all have talked him out of such a hasty resolution. That is not what he wanted though. He wanted to take Iryanna as his wife and he had done so. So he ignored her question.

"How have you fared?"

Garsiv welcomed the change of subject. When he didn't get an answer he knew that Shraga didn't take the bait. He scanned her face. She looked determined not to answer him. The skin of her jaw jumped from the way she was grinding her teeth and staring at him. An idiot could see the rage behind her eyes if there had been. There was uncharacteristically nothing though.

The silence said it all. It was pregnant with a number of emotions. He scanned her face for the tenth time during her vigil of silence. For the life of him he didn't know what she could possibly be thinking. Neutral wasn't exactly the word he was looking for as to describe the expression she was giving him. It was more expressionless than he could ever think to describe. He couldn't show her that her silence was making him impatient, but he couldn't hide the way he nervously kept scanning her countenance.

"Say something," he finally demanded in the most even tone he could muster in her presence. Her eyes snapped to his. Goodness, staring into their depths with his own he realized how much he had missed getting to look at her. He was naive enough to hope that her eyes would be able to tell him what she was thinking as well. This entire time he had hoped for nothing more than to be able to read her like an open book. Nothing is what he got. How could she train herself this much to have zero emotion to be shown?

"What is there to say," she finally stated. It certainly was no question. She wasn't looking for him to tell her how to feel. She was stating that there was nothing for her to say about his decision and that how she fared in his absence didn't obviously matter. Nothing. He was going to only get nothing from her. A sigh escaped his lips and he hung his head just a bit. What had he really expected anyways? The truth was, he hadn't really expected anything, this he knew in his heart. That was because he had honestly never thought about what her reaction would be like to him bringing home another wife.

This was his culture though. There wasn't anything to be ashamed of, and there wasn't any reason she should be angry with him. Was she angry though? He really couldn't tell. Shraga was an enigma, and she was his enigma. His chest swelled with a moment of joy. He had to remind himself that she was his. Eventually the way she felt, however that may be, would pass.

"This is my culture," he surrendered, as if that was something he could hide behind as to why there was now another woman he called wife. He did not know much about her own way of life before they were married, but from the distance he felt from her now he assumed that life in the desert tribe from which she hailed was different from his own.

"I am not ignorant, there is no need to give me a cultural lesson."

Anger seeped its devastating way into his heart. Shraga knew just what buttons to push to infuriate him. He stood from the chair in a flash (he hadn't even realized he had taken a seat), knocking it on its side in the process. In a beat of a heart he crossed the room. He came to stand an inch from her, his hand raised with a finger pointed in her face. Her breath danced across his face, and he could smell the familiar scent of peppermint leaves on her breath. It occurred to him then that her breathing was even and steady. She was not fazed by his show of anger, and she defiantly looked up into his eyes.

"I am your husband-" he started. There was a whole speech in his head, making its way to his tongue just so the words could be spoken. However she cut him off.

"Are you?" she asked.

That shut him up. He backed away from her, giving her the space she needed. On instinct he reached up trying to feel for the pendant that he once wore to feel her warmth surround him. It wasn't there, and it hadn't been there in a long time. He just couldn't seem to stop himself for wanting to touch it in times when he wanted her to comfort him. The ironic things was she stood in front of him and he turned to that pendant to calm himself.

Then suddenly he remembered that time which seemed so long ago when he had felt her desiring another. He hadn't understood it and he for the longest time had forgotten about it. He cleared his throat and then turned so he couldn't see her when he asked. Garsiv wasn't sure he could stand the look on her face when he brought it up.

"When I was gone, there had been a time when I reached for the necklace you gave me. I felt something interesting. It had taken me a while to understand. Yet once I did, I don't think I could really ever forget. Who was he?"

More silence filled the room. The air was thick and when he finally turned to look at her, she had tears streaming down her face. His heart broke at seeing her like this, just as he was sure her heart had broken when she spied his arm around another woman. He hadn't married Iryanna for anything other than the pity he had felt for her. When he asked his question to her, it suddenly looked like Iryanna was brought into the palace to punish Shraga for a mistake she had made a while ago. Her tears were silent, and she angrily brought her hands to her face to wipe them away in some show of defiance.

"His name was Zolm. He had been a friend during my youth. He climbed through my window with the intent to take me for his own. I cannot deny for when he kissed me I felt things against my will. When I realized the extent of what he wanted to do, I smashed an oil lamp into his face. He raged and tried to kill me because of it. I claimed him to just be an assassin because it seemed easier than explaining the truth to the guards and your mother. In after thought I should have probably told the truth on the matter, but I also felt it would cause strife among my people and yours. He is supposed to be my father's successor, and he made a foolish mistake that I branded him for."

He watched her as she spoke. Her hand unwillingly went to her lips and there was a horrifying look that fell over her face. She was ashamed of the way her body had responded to Zolm. And Garsiv felt ashamed that he felt the need to even bring it up. He bit the inside of his cheek to calm himself. He couldn't though. He shook with a fury. If he ever met this Zolm he would kill the other man for trying to take what belonged to him and that was Shraga. He was also angry at himself. This entire situation was getting out of hand and it was because he didn't realize his actions actually had consequences. Also her reasoning on telling everyone that Zolm was actually an assassin made sense to him. She had made a choice that protected her people but also protected Zolm. It wasn't out of any friendship that she had done this Garsiv realized. It was a political choice. If she had stated the truth on the matter it would only be natural for Persia to take a stance against Zolm, which could cause strife among her people. Her decision had been no more than to protect her people. When he had made the choice to marry Iryanna he hadn't been protecting no one.

Though her explanation made sense to him, the fact that she had felt desire for another still bothered him. In time I will get over that, he thought. He had too. Could she truly be blamed for something she couldn't help? Could he be blamed for marrying a woman because he desired her? He sighed at the internal fury he felt for himself. She had almost killed Zolm to protect herself from that desire she had felt. What had Garsiv done? He married that of which he desired.

Busying himself with picking up the chair so he could hide his anger. It occurred to him that day so long ago that his father had told him to stay, that he should not have argued to with him. He would never tell her that he had begged to go to prove his worth as a warrior in a real war. He had though. He had begged to go, and because of that he hadn't been here to protect her. He had also brought back another woman. Garsiv hadn't really taken the time to try and think about the way his wife would feel throughout this entire ordeal. Bringing back another woman had insulted her, and he was just coming into realization of this fact.

Garsiv had insulted his wife and wounded her pride because he was blinded of the beauty of a fifteen year old girl that he had pitied. There was no way to make it not as harsh as it truly was. After picked up the chair he turned to look at his wife. So many thoughts spun through his head but only one stuck. Say it, he told himself. Tell her…

"I am sorry," he whispered.