Drops of hot water dripped from the ceiling. Every so often, one landed on his shoulder, on his arm, on his foot. The urge to budge was strong, but he continued to lie still on the slippery tiles, a towel separating him from the naked body of his soon-to-be father-in-law. A sweet, musky scent hung in the air, calming his breath. A shadow loomed over him, holding a razor. The soft scraping sound of the crescent blade stroking his skin was like music. His muscles, tense from the final frenzy before the wedding, had relaxed.  One got used to everything—even strange Scorian customs that involved losing your body weight in sweat.

"I'm falling asleep," Sebastian mumbled.

The Alafin dipped the razor into a cup of water, shaking, rinsing the hairs off the blade. His sing-song accent echoed through the room as he asked, "Would that be a problem?" 

"Kind of. Wouldn't want people to whisper that they can see the God of Sloth still tugging at my eyelids."

"All eyes will be on the bride, anyway." Alafin Cyrus placed the blade under Sebastian's nose. "People have been gathering in the courtyard since before sunrise. There have been a few minor riots by those who believe you bring trouble to Alburkhan."

"Do you think I'm trouble?"

"The risk is there," the Alafin admitted.

"But, surely, it's a small price for what you gain, politically and economically," Sebastian said. "Your country and mine will be allies—partners even."

"That's more my wife's concern than it is mine. In my eyes, you're the husband who will bring the war to my daughter. She'll become a target, if not now, then as she carries your child."

Another drop fell down—a particularly hot one that scalded his lower leg. He twitched. After the wedding came the bedding. According to Aunt Crystal, his primary job was to get Jhara pregnant. A child—especially a son—would discourage Silvermark troops, or so she believed. Sebastian didn't think a baby would stop Fox from trying to claim what he thought belonged to him.

The Alafin chuckled. He swiped the razor over the left side of Sebastian's moustache. "Are you not looking forward to your wedding night?"

"Of course, yes... I... erm..." Gone were the relaxed muscles. He had never laid with a woman.

There came another chuckle, a laugh that came with years of experience in the bedroom. The Alafin's escapades were legendary. "Let the old Panther give you some advice, Sebastian. Follow your instinct. Don't think too much—we're born to do this."

"Thanks, I'll try and remember." 

"That's already thinking too much," he said. "Make my Jhara happy and keep her safe—that's all I'm asking, man to man, father to husband."

"You won't need to worry about her."

The Alafin hummed—all laughter gone. "Upon arranging this deal with my wife, your aunt and uncle put measures in place, guaranteeing her safety. But I have to say, Sebastian. I know what ships lie in the Jade Sea. I know what dregs your cousin brought into the city. Between them and a Deathstalker, I trust the animal more."

"If it's the pirates that trouble you, let me ease your mind. The Boyar is my childhood friend—the most virtuous woman I know."

"All Virtues get lured by one Sin or another. Tell me, who seduces her when she's most vulnerable?"

Sebastian remained silent as the Alafin cut off the edge of his right eyebrow "I don't know. Pride, perhaps. She often finds herself better than most Greenlander women. But she is. Neither the bow nor the blaster holds any secrets for her—it's rare in my country."

"Is she more virtuous because she's acquainted with the art of war?"

"No, she has other qualities too." He thought. "She's a good friend. Loyal. Can set her teeth in something and not let go."

"She's a tiger, not a scorpion."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Will she protect Jhara?"

"Of course." Sebastian refrained in time from nodding. The razor was close to his left eye.

"And if she has to choose between rescuing you and my Jhara—who would she pick?"

"I would guard your daughter from harm too, Alafin."

"Please, Sebastian, call me Cyrus." 

"Cyrus, I assure you that, whatever happens, Jhara remains safe."

The blade clinked against the tiles. A few heartbeats later, Cyrus smacked a hot towel into Sebastian's face. The sweltering heat stung but opened his veins like a fragrant drowning in a rare desert downpour.

"I need to know—Gods forbid such a cruel scenario—would you give your life to save her?"

He imagined Jhara standing in between himself and Fox threatening to kill her with the flame in his hand. Sure, he would fight, but he couldn't sacrifice himself for her. Dying meant Fox won.

Sebastian touched Cyrus' hand, who removed the towel. Still tasting and smelling the shaving soap, he looked up at the crinkled, sweaty face of his future father-in-law. "You're aware of the situation my uncle and I are in. If you ask this of me, you do not fear the Silvermarkers enough."

The Alafin beckoned him to sit up. As Sebastian rose, the man grabbed his smooth, freshly shaven cheek. Naked men told the truth—it was an old Scorian saying, but now he realised what it meant."I do not ask you this as the husband of Queen Rainah, but as Jhara's father."

"My answer remains the same, both as Crown Prince of The Greenlands and as Jhara's future husband." Though his heart palpitated with the force of ten stallions galloping, he held his head high.

 "Very well."

"We will stay in Alburkhan until the war is over," Sebastian assured him.

The Alafin patted Sebastian's cheek, then rose and left the steaming room, ending the first ritual of a very long day.

A little while later, when he exited the room, as much sweat as worries, servants of the Alafin assisted him with pouring buckets of seawater over him. They dried him, then helped him put on his uniform. One man rubbed out any wrinkle left in the fabric and brushed up the three sycamore leaves on the collar while a girl stood on a step to comb his hair and apply some oil to keep his hair together and prevent the gathering of desert dust. Finally, they put on his belt, where his father's dagger was.

Alex appeared in the doorframe, a smug look on her face. Her hair had been braided into waves that started beneath her deep-red kerchief and ended into two tails. 

The servants bowed to her.

"He's ready, Sayida Alex," the girl said.

She nodded a bow. "He's shaven and dressed, alright.  I'll take care of him from here."

Sebastian blinked, then took a second look at Alex. She was wearing a long dress with a leather corset that still showed off her ceremonial pirate belts. When was the last time Alex had worn a dress? Had she ever worn one at all? Surely, Aunt Crystal and Lady Victoria had forced her back in the day when she lived at Sunstone Castle. But this was Alex in a dress that fit her, that was a hundred percent, pure Alex. With the blaster hanging from her hip, she could kill if she wanted to.

"And then a bird flew in." She flicked his nose with her fingers, her nails polished in jade green.

"But you're... wow."

"Yeah, Lana and Liene enjoyed themselves." She pointed at her lips and eyes. "I'm wearing gloss and some coal around my eyes."

"It's... nice."

"It's not as bad I thought it would be." She shrugged, but he could tell she enjoyed the attention. "Come, you have a throne room full of people waiting for you."

Relief washed over him that it was Alex who guided him to the dome, to help him pass the hundreds of people who had travelled from far and wide to witness his and Jhara's eternal promise.

Water flowed down a channel that had been built into the grey marble stairs. Down below, it emerged as a water jet in the middle of a pool. Even after spending years in the riches of Sunstone Castle, the Queen's Palace was quite a feast for the eyes, with fountains and palm trees growing inside miniature indoor gardens. An oasis of green and blue near the darkness of the desert sand.

"So got any cold feet for the wedding?" Alex asked cheekily.

"A little."

"Should have packed thicker socks then, Sebby."

He chuckled at the absurdity. "Well, we are in a desert, after all, hundreds of leagues from Sundale, and sadly also, my sock drawer."

"It's a shame the wedding isn't near your drawer—wouldn't it have been nicer?"

"I'll survive the cold feet," he continued the joke.

"But don't you think it's strange that only Lana and I are here? No General George, no Captain Stephen. Your aunt should be the one to give you away, or Lana."

"I prefer you. Symbolically speaking, you represent the innocence of my childhood more than Lana or Aunt Crystal."

She exhaled through her nose. "And they wouldn't joke about socks."

"No-oo." He stretched the word. "But yeah, it's weird to do this on my own. It's for the best—a bigger party will come... one day."

After the war. 

When the Greenlanders had chased the Silvermarkers back to their swamps beyond the Horseshoe Mountains. When Fox had been k... Sebastian ground his teeth. When Fox had been defeated. That was when Sundale would celebrate their new Princess to the tunes of horns and drums, a market square filled with merchants paid for by the crown to hand out their wares, with endless supplies of beer and wine, and celebrations that lasted until the morning of Diligence. He would drink and dance and mingle with the people—be their heroic Prince of legends with his beautiful Scorian wife.

"And do you reckon you and Jhara are a good match?" Alex asked.

"For both our countries, yes."

"And stars twinkle in the night." She snorted. "You know what I mean, Muttonhead."

"Ouch, treason." He touched his chest.

She bumped her elbow into his. He fought back, to which she grabbed his dagger but didn't unsheathe the weapon. They grinned before continuing down the hall with steady steps. The droning noise of talking people hummed in the background and grew louder.

A broad corridor separated them from a spacious room behind which laid the largest of the domes; the Scorian throne room.

They halted.

"To answer your question," Sebastian said. "Jhara is a true southern woman, strong-willed and fierce if she must."

"Good—you're used to being walked all over. If not your sisters or me when you were little, then Lana surely showed you the ropes in the last few years."

He tightened his lips. "Are you calling me weak?"

"I'm calling you..." She pursed her lips in thought. Then she said, "Remember Harald the blacksmith. The way he swung his hammer and grunted when someone came to near to his forge. He was a bully—a good warrior too on the rare occasion that he joined a hunt. But when your father as much as called his name, he changed into this obedient, trembling man."

"My father was his Lord. He outranked him."

"Then don't let Jhara outrank you, Seb. Demand respect and offer her respect in return."

"Did the white-haired pirate teach you that?"

"No, I've seen how she treats you these past two days. She hardly ever allows you to speak." Then the penny dropped. She turned to stare at him, the God of Pride blazing in her eyes. "Hang on, what do you mean?"

"I've barely seen you since you left Sunstone Castle. He was there all those years ago when you popped up in Sundale with the Krakens. Today, he's here again. Do you follow him wherever he goes?"

"At first, yeah. The Krakens took me in, and I had nowhere else to go." Her voice calmed. Pride's fire disappeared. "I also spent some time travelling between Mora and the Port of Diligence with Learta's crew. Pan and I met again when Captain Ilona retired to Loccia. Thanks to your uncle's gold, she could buy herself a nice house and a fishing boat. She said she has seen enough of the sea." Alex lifted her shoulders. "Anyway, I like Pan, but we're more business partners than anything else."

Partners, he had heard that description before.

The sitars began with a passionate though peaceful melody, drowning out the murmurs of the crowd. In the distance, at the end of the hallway, he caught the red plume of Prince David's army helmet and a tiger entering the dome.

He nudged Alex to follow them.

As he stepped into the throne room, the sitars changed their tune to a more upbeat one—a song he recognised for the balls in Sunstone Castle. The high arches and orange and red tiles brightened the room, despite there being no visible windows. Hundreds, if not a thousand, people were in rows on each side of the carmine carpet. The majority of them long robes, in a wide variety of colours, hands and necks covered in as much gold and diamonds as they could fit. Several men wore turbans, and about half of the women covered their hair with lace or silk-like embroidered headscarves.

At the front, Prince David and his tiger parted ways. The animal padded towards a pillowed corner where other overly large cats were napping —all but two. Shari and Taika flanked the Queen on each side. 

Queen Rainah's golden crown shimmered and dazzled as she leant forward to embrace her son. She wore a lace dress with swirly diamond patterns that ended in a deep turquoise train.

Whistling noises came from the east. Alex's gang of pirates were clapping enthusiastically, to the dismay of more prominent figures from Alburkhan. Though the white-haired Captain did his best to bring order, the Scorians ought to be glad the crew no longer looked like the scald-headed rats that had stepped out of the dark-wood ship but had done their best to sober up and find the cleanest clothes they could find.

"They stand out, don't they," Alex whispered to him.

"I think it's brilliant," Sebastian said.

More to the front, there were some green uniforms stuffed at the centre of the room. Lieutenants—he could tell by the number of leaves on their collar. He didn't recognise their faces; he doubted they were from Sundale. A weight settled on his chest—not that it mattered. No, it was alright. He had Alex and Lana.

But there was no Lana. Not at the front with the Queen, the Prince, and the priest in black-and-white robes, nor at the front row, where the mayors of Scoria's cities were flaunting with their riches and making deals—no doubt.

He and Alex moved towards the priest. They let go. Standing on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, her clammy hand against the back of his head.

"It's an honour to do this for you, Seb."

When she looked at him, she had tears in her eyes. A lump formed in his throat.

"Real men don't cry," he teased, whispering. 

"Good thing I'm not a man."

He wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "No, you're a woman about to be scolded by Lana and Liene for ruining your make-up."

She giggled and sniffed at the same time. He was quite sure he heard her say, "Muttonhead."

"My mother would be proud to know you did this in her stead," he said.

She nodded half a bow, then proceeded at bowing to the priest, to David, and to the Queen. Then she disappeared into the side aisle to find her spot with the pirates. She should be sitting at the front, and if he were in Sundale, he would have made Aunt Crystal. 

But today he was getting married in Alburkhan. And, thus, he played by Scorian rules.