"My people have gained much from the sharing of our cultures, but I must respectfully admit that I am glad that this style of dress was not one of them, Your Majesty. It seems terribly uncomfortable."

Kalin, beautifully outfitted in the Auroran celebratory colors of red and gold, watched me with a mixture of amusement and concern as Jasper expertly laced the corset of an elaborate gown—a wedding gown.

"Take a deep breath, madam," Jasper grunted, tugging the strings with a strength that belied his age.

"May I ask why you are going through with this?" the Auroran woman asked.

"The marriage?" I murmured, trying to keep my body still as Jasper worked.

"No, the marriage I understand," she replied. "I have seen the people. They are overjoyed that Reaver Industries has been dissolved. But they are still more pleased by this union, for, if it is not too bold to say so…I believe that they see this as a means for their Queen to curtail his wicked behavior. In Aurora, we have a very old saying: 'When a man kneels to take a woman's hand in marriage, he remains on his knees forever.'"

I could not help shaking with silent laughter. Clearly, whoever had coined that phrase had never known a man like Reaver. "I love him just as he is. I am not marrying him to reform him or to control him."

"I know. But the people do not, and that is very good for you, Your Majesty, and for him. What I do not understand is this dress."

"If I know my future husband, it will not be long before you do," I said, smiling—it was so pleasing to have a friend. After the war, Kalin and I had grown very close. She knew the burden of leadership in the face of annihilation, as I did, and our temperaments were similar. She was a deeply restful woman, full of wisdom and a perfect sense of personal honor. Now that we had broken through the walls of total formality, we had become more than political allies.

"This odd shape forces your body to conform, or suffocate!" Kalin continued, closer to true dismay than I had seen her since the war. "In Aurora, we prefer to use soft padding to create a shape that gives elegant uniformity of figure. In the desert, one cannot afford to be short of breath. And this white fabric…white is the color of mourning in your country, is it not? It seems hardly fitting for a marriage."

"True, but that is very subjective," I answered, turning to face her. Her body was decorated with numerous tattoos made from the dyes of sacred flowers—all of them blue, the color of mourning in Aurora, to serve as a reminder of her losses. "Besides…without sorrow, how would we recognize joy?"

Her eyes softened, and she smiled. "You are beautiful, my Queen, in sorrow and in joy. I hope that today brings you more of the latter than the former."

"Kalin…" I had run out of words for this kind, strong woman. But I knew that silence was the ideal time for action. Jasper sensed my intentions and stood back with a small smile as I lifted a carved wooden box from a cushion and held it out to her. She took it with both hands, as was only proper in Aurora, taking a long moment to show her appreciation by tracing the carvings with her painted hands.

"Your taste is very fine, Your Majesty," she said formally, bowing her head. It was an Auroran custom to avoid appearing overeager when receiving a gift. It would be grossly impolite to open it until she was prompted. She had taught me much about her culture during our time together, and I had come to deeply appreciate it. The people of Aurora took nothing for granted, and it made their gestures that much more meaningful.

"Please open it, my friend. I hope that it pleases you, humble though it is." Mild self-deprecation was another key aspect of the ritual.

She bowed her head again and lifted the lid. When she saw what was inside, her eyes widened slightly, but she showed no other outward signs of surprise. Her composure was legendary.

"I am not worthy of this," she whispered at last, genuinely shaken. It was no ritual.

I knelt, the ruffles of my wide skirt rustling as they pooled around me. I bowed deeply, as was customary, and placed my hands before my face, covering it. I had practiced this with Jasper several times to be certain my form was proper. This was not a moment an Auroran woman experienced more than once or twice in a lifetime.

"Kalin, daughter of honored Kaor—may his spirit smile on you, always, as he watches over you in the valley of plenty—you saved my brother, Logan, from the Darkness, when he was merely a foreigner in your besieged land. Four years later, you saved my life, and the life of my…my father. Sir Walter Beck. You risked your life and the lives of your people in order to aid me in defending our lands against the Crawler. Our countries came together as one."

I felt Kalin take my hands in hers, pulling them away from my face to show her acceptance. Had she rejected me, she would have been free to walk away without shaming either of us, so long as I hid my face. Her eyes were deeply serious as she lifted a bolt of cloth from the box. I had woven it, myself, in the six holy colors of Aurora. She wrapped one loop over our joined right hands.

"Rose, daughter of honored Walter—may his spirit smile on you, always, as he watches over you in the valley of plenty—it would be my greatest honor to become your hearth sister. In red, we proclaim our love for one another, and for our kin. We are one."

I wound another length of the cloth over our wrists. "In orange, we proclaim the strength of our bond. Together, we are greater than the sum of our parts."

"In yellow," Kalin said softly, wrapping another length, "we proclaim our faith in the prosperity that we can achieve together, regardless of the whims of nature and of our gods."

"In green, we proclaim our shared growth, for our intellectual and spiritual minds will flourish so long as we live."

"In blue…" She closed her eyes briefly, lowering her head. "In blue, we proclaim our respect for our honored dead, who are now joined as kin. May we live in such a way that their names are always spoken with reverence."

I placed the final loop over our joined hands. "In purple, we proclaim our dreams of a better future as hearth sisters. When we pass from this life, we will meet again in the valley of plenty, in the house of our ancestors. May they bless this union."

"It is done," we said together.

"Will you stand with me, today?" I asked her as we pulled our hands from the complicated knot without untying it and placed it carefully in the box.

"Of course, Rose," she answered with a warm smile. "In Aurora, a woman prepares the way for her hearth sister on the day of her wedding. It is customary for her to meet with the groom before the ceremony, that she might test his worthiness."

"And if he fails?"

"Then he may choose to pay a ransom for the right to claim his bride," Kalin said, almost wickedly. "This can be taken literally, in the form of goods or gold, but it can also be taken out in service. There are many among us who prefer to make the unworthy man dance for our amusement, or perform comedic follies until we are satisfied that he has proven his love for our honored sister."

"I beg your pardon, madam," Jasper said with tentative eagerness, "but are any other members of the bridal party allowed to watch the display? Oh dear, that was in poor taste, wasn't it? Forgive me."

I laughed, leaning against Kalin's shoulder while she smiled and shook her head. "I am afraid that this trial is for the eyes of the women, only. However, during an Auroran wedding feast, the men have their turn at mischief."

"Mischief? Dear, dear, what delicious ideas are you filling my wife's head with, Kalin? Do go on."

Reaver sauntered into the room, immaculately dressed in white, black, and silver. He had abandoned his hat for the occasion, but he carried a cane that almost certainly concealed a thin sword.

"She is not yet yours," Kalin said proudly, standing. "You must win her from me before you may claim her."

Reaver's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I must what?"

"Master Reaver, please!" Jasper said, scandalized, attempting to screen me from view while I lost myself in fits of laughter. "You cannot be here. A man must not see his bride in her gown before the wedding. It brings bad luck."

"I chose that gown. I know what it looks like," he said dismissively, attempting—but failing—to wave Jasper away. "I have never been a superstitious man, anyway. Customs come and go, and they are often rooted in ignorance and savagery."

Kalin looked over her shoulder at me and quirked an eyebrow. "I believe it will be the dance, after all, honored sister. I do not need his gold. I will take his pride."

"Is that so?" Reaver looked her up and down appreciatively. "No one has succeeded in that particular feat, though many have tried. Do you really believe you are up to the task, my exotic little nymph?"

"I do," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"I believe that is my future-wife's line. But you have piqued my interest, nevertheless." His gaze shifted to me for several moments, gauging my reaction. I inclined my head in approval, and he smirked, turning back to Kalin. "Very well, then. Since my bride has insisted on marrying beneath the moonlight, I suppose I have some time to spare. I do so hate being bored. I accept your ridiculous challenge. Diplomatic relations are so very important, after all, and I suppose it would be rather droll to observe the backward customs of your alleged…'culture', Kalin. My dear Rose certainly appears rather fond of it."

"If I may make a suggestion," Jasper cut in somewhat exasperatedly, "I believe it would be better for you to return to your own party, Master Reaver, and name your Best Man."

Reaver snorted with laughter. "Why on earth would I do that? I am the best man I know, after all!"

"Surely someone will stand up with you," Jasper insisted.

"Jasper," I said softly with a barely-discernible shake of my head. "Please let the matter rest." I gave him a meaningful look, and his eyes widened briefly as he realized his error. No one was willing to stand beside Reaver in this marriage. There were no groomsmen, nor was there a Best Man. He was one of the most hated men in Albion. I forced a smile. "Reaver and I are breaking with tradition. This is a union of cultures, as well as hearts and houses. We will be combining the wedding customs of Aurora and of Albion, as you know. How can we deny him his unique choice when I have made a few of my own? It would be unforgivably hypocritical."

Reaver's smirk never wavered, but in his eyes, I spotted a faint trace of pain. Saving his dignity had been no true service, for everyone in the room clearly knew that this was indeed what I had done, and that was a bit of an insult in itself. I suppressed a sigh of frustration. I knew Reaver better than anyone in Albion, but I still had much to learn.

"If that is all, my Queen, I believe I will prepare myself for whatever nonsensical scheme your dear Kalin has in mind for me. You look lovely, by the way, my dear. Ta!"

He exited the room, the long ends of his jacket whipping through the closing doors just swiftly enough to avoid becoming trapped between them. Jasper let out a long sigh, then smiled.

"Hook, line, and sinker, just as you said. Shall I fetch the real dress now, madam?"

Kalin cocked her head to the side. "The real dress?"

My spirits brightened, despite my awkward mistake. "Yes, there are some traditions I intend to uphold. I knew he would come here; he has very little respect for superstition and personal privacy. It will be such a surprise when he sees the one I intend to wear for the wedding."

The Auroran beauty smiled warmly, returning to her chair. "Then let us hope, honored sister, that he is as good a dancer as his reputation suggests."

Many apologies for my tardiness in getting this written, and in reading the stories I've been asked to read! I've been very sick, but with luck, I'll be better soon. Thanks very much!