The chamber was lit by candlelight, each flame steadfast and unwavering in its duty. The ceiling was vaulted so high that the light didn't reach it fully. Around the edges of the hand-carved cave were enormous amethyst geodes broken open by some unseen force, laying expectantly for some passerby to climb in. As the twins and Mercy made their careful way across the tile floor, one shaft of light shined down from places unknown to accent an ancient book resting on the podium. The great tome opened and the pages turned as if moved by some invisible hand.

They approached the tome with caution. It seemed suspicious that their passage through the ancient tree, then underground labyrinth was devoid of conflict. Everyone knew that an epic journey such as theirs was fraught with monsters, magic, and mayhem, especially when the quest was of such a serious nature: Mercy wished to break her betrothal as assigned by the Marriage Council.

To undo the marriage agreement, she was sent to this place to read the ancient book that would task her with her personal adventure. Once said undertaking was complete, the marriage would be dissolved. No one could predict what the undertaking would be only that it would be suited to Mercy alone.

The twins turned to Mercy expectantly, waiting for her to climb the podium and read the sacred text. She was nervous, and so she paused, recalling the day she had learned of her predicament...

~~~

"Mercy!" Zephyr called, "you have a letter! And it looks important!"

"A letter?" Mercy asked, stopping her work on the loom. The shuttle carrying the weft of spun wool stilled as she caught it emerging from the warp tensioned to the piece of equipment that was three times her size. The clacking of the treadles her feet operated quieted and all that was left was the sound of the crackling fire built to ward off the early spring day's chill.

"That's what I said! A letter," Zephyr repeated, handing her the item in question.

As soon as Mercy saw it in her sister's hands, her stomach somersaulted. She knew without even opening it, it was a marriage decree simply by the richness of the document. She was to be betrothed. She worked hard to keep her breath steady and her hands from shaking as she reached to take it from her much younger sibling.

The vellum was heavy as it was made from the finest of animal skins rather than ordinary paper. It was folded immaculately, then sealed with wax, into which the marriage sigil was stamped. The insignia was brushed with a golden dust, most likely the pollen of the Marriage Tree.

Mercy knew that, despite all her wishes otherwise, she had been chosen for the burden, and personal horror, of wedlock.

She had hoped, being almost out of the acceptable age range at seventeen, that she might have been overlooked. Had she been, she could have lived her life in peace. She understood the need for marriage, for there was always a demand for Citizens and their potentially magical children, but she had no desire to be joined to a man for the rest of her life in order to produce such.

Not that she had anything against men. It was only that she did not prefer them.

"So, are you going to open it or not?" Zephyr asked, her eyes wide and curious as only those of a seven-year-old could be.

Mercy let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and, with her thumbs and forefingers, cracked the seal open. She hadn't exactly known what to expect to happen when she did, but she expected more than... nothing. Opening such a life-altering decree seemed to be such an ominous task, surely it would have had some magic attached to it, but no, it was as ordinary as the market list she carried to town each week.

She carefully unfolded the delicate looking, but strong calfskin and stared at the writing she found within. At first, she couldn't make out the meaning of the script beautifully applied to it. It was only after she realized that it was upside down did she read, once she turned it.

Though it began with, "Dearest Hopeful Citizen Mercy Lane, we are honored to inform you..." Mercy felt as if it were a statement of regret. Everyone of importance who knew her, including the Magistrate from whom the letter would have been delivered, understood that she sought the love of a good woman. In fact, it was the Magistrate's own daughter, Jasmine, with whom she hoped to have such a relationship. Jasmine felt likewise.

The letter began to swim before her and she sniffled, wiping away the tear that threatened to fall. She returned to the beginning and read the entire letter through:

Dearest Hopeful Citizen Mercy Lane,

We are honored to inform you of your betrothal to Hopeful Citizen Lance Evertree of Mount Saint Hope township some twenty miles east of your home in Oak Grove. It is our understanding that the good Mr. Evertree is an honest and upstanding individual, coming to be well respected in his area for the fine metal work he produces at the forge of his father, Grand Citizen Thomas Evertree.

He is of the suitable marriageable age of twenty, and is the brother of five additional children, one of whom is his twin, Matthew Evertree. Lance, being of sound mind and firm body, has been chosen as your betrothed based on our extensive calculations and predictions; the two of you will have many fine children, with at least one showing great promise of being gifted. In addition, you are destined to become Grand Citizens well before most of similar disposition and age.

Good Mr. Evertree is, at this time, also being informed of his betrothal and will be expected to visit within a fortnight's time. Please make him feel welcome in your township; he will be rooming at the Borderland Inn, as is appropriate.

Your wedding date should be set no further away than half a year's time. Please inform your respective Magistrates of the date once decided. We will then arrange for one of our own to perform the Rite of Marriage.

We wish you well with all our hearts, dearest Mercy. May the Gods guide you and keep you forever in their favor.

The Marriage Council of the Borderland

This, the Year of our Faith, Five Hundred and Eighty-Seven

"Well? What does it say?" Zephyr demanded. "Is it a betrothal letter? It is, isn't it! Who are you going to marry?"

Not even her little sister's excitement could make Mercy feel even a bit as happy and cheerful as she knew that she should feel upon receiving such a letter. Yet, Mercy forced a smile for her; there was no need to dampen Zephyr's thrill at one day being the recipient of such a letter. To receive one meant that she could move into full Citizenship, enjoying all the rights and privileges therein and to, possibly, retire into Grand Citizenship once their tithes to the Queen had been paid.

She reread the letter for Zephyr who squealed at the mention of Lance. Everyone knew the handsome and kind man that he was becoming. To be betrothed to such a husband was the dream of every young woman in the village. Well, every woman with the exceptions of Mercy and Jasmine.

Zephyr had yet to be told about her older sister; it had been decided to keep the knowledge between a limited group of friends and family who knew, until the two were out of the marriageable age range. At that time, they could pursue love where they found it, the price being to never be Citizens. For Mercy and Jasmine, it seemed a small cost to pay.

"Can I go and tell Ma and Da?" Zephyr asked with glee. It was clear that she wanted to be the bearer of what she thought would be good news.

Mercy was grateful, for she knew that she would not be able to contain herself if she performed the task. Instead, she would have a few moments to herself to cry, wash her face, and then figure out how to get herself out of the mess.

~~~

It was exactly a week later that there came a knock on the door of the cottage as Mercy once again worked the loom. She was becoming quite the weaver and seamstress, two crafts for which she not only had a natural aptitude but also had a deep love for doing. As it did when receiving the letter, the loom fell silent and she called out to the insistent thumping.

"Coming! One moment, if you please!"

Much to her surprise, Lance stood at her threshold, holding the reins of his horse; he hadn't even taken the time to hitch the beast to the post at the roadside before coming into her yard.

"Lance!" she exclaimed, gesturing at the prancing horse, "what do you think you're doing? Look at what a mess he is making of the garden!"

"Nevermind the garden, Mercy. We have problems."

"You will have a problem with me, Lance, if you don't take that animal and properly tie him to the rail at the gate!" She slammed the door in his face, giving him no chance to continue.

After some moments, there came another knock, this one more gentle. Mercy pulled it open once more.

Lance stood with his hat in his hand, blond curls in disarray, with a sheepish look on his face. "I'm sorry, Mercy, I wasn't thinking. I'll send your parents the coin to fix the garden."

"Yes, you will," she acknowledged. "Now, get in here and let's talk about this like adults."

They sat at the table and, over milk and pie, discussed their woes.

"I'm not against marrying you, Mercy. You know that; I have, and will, always care for you," Lance said, reaching for her hand as he had done when they first dated.

Mercy smiled at him and squeezed his hand, "And I'm not saying that I wouldn't follow through, if no solution can be found, Lance. But, you know my heart. I love Jasmine."

"I know. And, as a friend, I would be remiss if I didn't aid you in your quest to find your assigned task to dissolve our betrothal," he said. His loyalty touched her.

"Thank you, Lance. We can go to the Priestess tomorrow and ask what journey I must undertake. In the meantime, where are you staying?"

Before Lance could answer, there came a knock. Matthew, Lance's twin brother, stood outside. He grinned at Mercy when she opened the door.

"Well, this is a fine mess you two have found yourself in, isn't it?" he said, stepping into the cottage.

"You have spoken quite the understatement, Matt," Mercy said, hugging him. "Come on in."

Matt looked at Lance and explained, "I've set us up at the Inn, and ordered dinner and wine. I figured that, if the Council was going to pay for it, they might as well pay for food and drink, too."

Mercy rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep the smile from her face. The twins were two of her most favorite people in the world, though she found them to be impossibly annoying at times. Such was the life of genuine friends.

They continued to talk until close to dusk when Mercy's parents returned home from the fields. Her parents, unlike Lance and Matt's parents, were not Citizens. Thus, they had days of hard labor and a lifetime of tithes to pay. Yet, they were excruciatingly happy; they married for love. And, not only that, they had been granted the right to have not two, but three children! It was the greatest of tragedies when the middle brother drowned just three years before.

Lance and Matt took their leave, with the promise of meeting Mercy and Jasmine at dawn for the half day's ride to the Priestess' home.

~~~

"Well, are you going to stand there like a dullard, or are you going to read the text?" Matt demanded. Lance caught him with an elbow to the ribs.

Mercy scowled. "Give me a moment, Matt! For Gods' sakes. This is my life we're talking about here!"

"And mine!" Lance said, feebly waving a hand and adding his voice to the mix.

Mercy nodded to him, "Yes, I'm sorry Lance. And yours." She, at last, stepped forward and up onto the podium, then leaned in to read.

Dresses Three, shall thee make

one of sunshine, for your sake.

Then blessed be, as Gods may care

one of moonlight for flower fair.

Last of all to make you must,

for the youngest, of stardust.

Mercy's voice echoed, then faded, in the chamber as she reread the lines once more. The twins, not knowing what to say, eyed each other. Matt nodded toward Mercy, silently asking his twin to explain. Lance merely shrugged.

Their friend on the podium scowled, then threw up her hands. "A poem? Really? What the Gods is that supposed to mean?" she exclaimed, turning to stomp off the dais. "It's not even a good poem!"

When she stepped onto the tile floor, the three of them heard a discernible click as the square gave under her weight. She pinwheeled her arms to regain her balance. Unsuccessful, she stumbled off the plate.

In the distance, they heard the grating of stone on stone.

The three of them, frozen in place for the briefest of moments, stared at one another. It was Mercy who stated the obvious.

"I think we will have a much harder time getting out than in, gentlemen."