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wed,” Izbal explained. “A married princess is expected to dance only for her husband, in private.”
    Gareth was troubled to see color rise to her cheeks and her pupils dilate slightly. The question he dreaded rose to her parted lips.
    “Would you like me to dance for you later?”
    He was spared the necessity of answering right away when a servant brought goblets of wine. He spent longer than was necessary thanking her and tasting the offering.
    When he looked back at Izbal, he found her still wearing that faraway expression. He could almost hear her pulse quicken when their eyes met. Or maybe he was hearing his own.
    He couldn’t allow her to want him. Such a path, natural and tempting as it seemed now, in the heat of the moment would only lead to sorrow and embarrassment.
    “Izbal,” he said slowly, resting his goblet on his knee, “yesterday we agreed that our wedding was a duty to fulfill. We followed through knowing full well what would happen afterward. You realize I plan to return to my ship as soon as this...event…is over.” He struggled to keep his tone neutral. Surely she understood the need to place diplomatic duties above personal concerns as well as he did.
    Izbal’s eyes widened. “Has no one told you?” she asked in wonder. “I suppose we all assumed...”
    “Told me what?” Gareth demanded, alarmed. “What did everyone assume?”
    “That you knew the full scope of the marriage ritual. The ceremony and the feast are but a prelude. Within the hour, we will both be led away from here to a place specially prepared to receive us. We must spend one week together in complete isolation from all responsibilities and from the rest of the community. It is a sort of bonding ritual for the newly married couple. Anubians have practiced it from our earliest days on this world. There is no changing now.”
    “A week?” Gareth erupted. “I’m expected to stay another week? What about my ship? My duties?”
    “I’m sorry,” Izbal said. Her eyes grew bright with worry. Gareth hated himself for bringing her to the verge of tears yet again. Somewhat clumsily, he wrapped his free hand around hers.
    “It’s all right. I probably have at least a year’s worth of shore leave stored up anyway. We’ll get through this, Izbal. Don’t worry. I won’t shame you or make your father angry.”
    “I knew you were a man of honor, Captain Gareth,” she said, her voice cracking with strain. Then, before they could discuss it any further, the women came forward and surrounded her. One took her hand and tugged it gently away from Gareth’s.
    “Plenty of time for that later,” one of the women said with a wink. Possibly she was one of his new sisters-in-law. Izbal had so many of them, he hadn’t learned to tell them apart yet. “We’ll get her ready for you.”
    Gareth stood as they led Izbal away. He saw Brennar, along with many of the other guests, rise to watch the bride’s retreat. Gareth managed to catch the other man’s attention, but Brennar only smiled and gave a slight shrug.
    Then a group of young men surrounded Gareth, and he, too, was whisked away.

Chapter 5

    An hour’s walk through the forest brought Gareth and his escorts to a spot that would have fetched a handsome price from a Terran Council official seeking a rustic, otherworldly getaway. Cut into the side of a mountain, the structure featured simple but comfortable furniture, a fireplace big enough to sleep in, and an enormous bed replete with fresh, embroidered linens. Outside, a sparkling waterfall cascaded into a stream that meandered through a maze of thick, colorful trees.
    He could hardly think of a more perfect setting for a couple to get to know each other. He cursed himself for wishing Brennar, and not Izbal, would soon join him.
    A group of women followed the male attendants into the dwelling, carrying various jars, jugs, and covered dishes. An older matron took charge, directing them to spread the items out on the carved