Mhera tried to focus on Matei's face as he stood at the sideboard, the goblet of wine in his hand. But as he crossed back toward his side of the bed, the light of the hearth shining past him silhouetted his legs beneath the nightshirt, and she blushed, looking away.

The bed shifted as he sat down again on his side of the bed, and the covers rustled as he pulled them back over his lap. She heard him take a sip of the wine, and then she felt the cool glass brush against her arm.

Turning back toward him, she took the goblet and drank. "You might have brought the decanter over," she murmured. She did not often drink much wine, but tonight, she would be grateful for the comfort. It would make everything easier to bear. "If I truly must stay here until the morning..."

He gave her sympathetic smile. "I think you must. I'll sleep in the chair by the fireplace."

Looking up at Matei's face, Mhera returned his smile. Some of his brown hair, auburn in the warm light, had come loose from its ribbon and fell to frame his face. She traced the line of his marke with her eyes, reflecting on their strange, interconnected lives. It made her sad, and it made her grateful. Confused, she looked back down at her hands.

What she'd told him was true; most of her sadness was for Matei. That he had given up the chance for a true wife for Mhera's sake overwhelmed her with guilt. She was not sure how he would react to the offer she'd resolved to make him: that if he ever found a woman whose charms beckoned him, he might be free to spend his time as he would. She did not want to live her life knowing that she had kept a man from happiness.

Whatever she had expected, or whatever she'd wished for, his answer had fallen short. He had refused her outright—kindly, but in no uncertain terms—and his answer had brought with it a sense of relief for which Mhera had been unprepared.

Could it be that she was glad he wouldn't seek comfort in another woman? The realization filled her with shame. She felt selfish, wanting to keep him to herself in such a way.

"That's very pretty," said Matei, startling her out of her thoughts.

She looked up and caught his gaze upon her. She reached up to touch the crown of flowers the maidservants had brought her before they had escorted her to her husband's room. "Snowblossoms," she murmured. With a sigh, she pulled the crown off her head. The leaves caught in her hair, drawing it out in filaments of gold, and she shook the crown free. "They remind me of Uncle."

"You have a—ah...here." Matei reached up, and she felt his gentle touch on her hair. She flung the flower crown to the foot of the bed and smoothed her palm over her tresses as he pulled his hand away, a shiny snowblossom leaf in his fingers. Smiling at her, he twirled it between his fingertips. "Why do they remind you of him?"

Mhera took a sip of wine. "He wrote me when I was at the Haven. Even though I never answered him, he sent me letters regularly. When the snowblossoms bloomed, he said they reminded him of me. I suppose now they remind me of him in turn."

"Don't think about him," Matei murmured. "Not tonight."

Again, Mhera's cheeks grew warm. She glanced up at Matei's face. He was watching her with a gentle look in his eye, and for a second, she wondered if he was about to say something else. Her pulse quickened. Matei's gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips, and a feeling partway between joy and fear gripped her heart...but then he looked down at the wine glass and reached out a hand.

The surface of the wine quivered in the glass when she handed it over to him, and she realized her hands were trembling. She asked herself if she was afraid, and she could not find an answer.

Mhera and Matei shared the rest of the wine that had been left for them, sealed behind the door of the emperor's bedchamber. She tried not to think about the people outside that door in the great, wide world, the people whose expectations hinged on the products of a union that would never be complete.

"I think I shall sit over there now," said Matei, nodding toward one of the chairs standing before the hearth. "I may fall asleep."

By now, the wine had warmed Mhera, soothing away her anxiety and a little of her shyness, as well. "Don't," she said.

Matei's eyes were gleaming with the effects of the wine when he looked at her. His cheeks were pink. "I may fall asleep," he repeated.

"Then fall asleep here. It will not be the first time we've slept close at hand, Matei, and I think we are on better terms now than on any of the occasions before." Mhera lifted the coverlet a little as she shifted on the bed, sliding her legs farther underneath the blankets so that she could lay her head on the pillow.

He hesitated. "Are you certain?"

Mhera smiled at the look on his face. "Do you not think the servants will be curious if they come to tend the fire in the morning and discover you asleep in your chair? Just lie down, Matei, and sleep. It has been a long day for both of us." 

Now that we have seen into both Matei and Mhera's experience of their engagement and wedding, I would love to hear your thoughts. 

I'm not dense--I know this isn't precisely what many of you have expected. Will you give me some honest reader engagement feedback? Does this storyline interest you? Frustrate you? 

Do you think it's believable, or do you think it's unrealistic?

Let me know in the comments!