He thought I was asleep. I knew that much as I felt him rise from our bed and slip out of the hold on to the top deck. It was strange how I could sense his moods or even his very presence without looking, just by feeling the power he put off his body. This time, his mood was black and he was wound tighter than a kitten's ball of string.

Seems like he had been that way since we married only a few hours before. Even when he touched me, it seemed forced and restrained, as if any sudden movement would cause him to explode.

I wonder, can anyone else tell?

I sighed and turned toward the wall of the barque, resting my forhead against the wood hull. I could feel the vibrations of the oars as they stroked the waters, keeping time to the drum-masters call. Breathing in time to the oars, I willed my heart to slow to the pace of the beating drum.

Through the wood, I hear Irike's muffled orders to stay on the river and not to dock. I wished we would dock so I could return home. Maybe this whole event would simply vanish. Perhaps it was a mistake.

What was it that so terrible? Surely it wasn't our marriage? Was Irike having second thoughts. A Nomarch perhaps was not as high of a social rank for a Prince. I sighed inwardedly and tried to banish the thoughts to the inner recesses.

Knowing I could not sleep, I rose and dressed to find my husband.