"Why do you alwalys look so perfect?" Seimma complained as Kirati whirled in front of her mirror. "So what've you picked out for Emarian?"

"Oh, it's so perfect!" Kirati told her. "He's changing into it right now, or I'd show you, but it's perfect! They were my brothers, but I had them tailored for him as a suprise yesterday."

"I still think he's too good to be true," Siemma told her worridley as she inspected her own dress in the mirror. "Is it just me or does it make my hips look huge?"

"Your hips look fine," Kirati sighed. "Just because we've never met any men like Emarian doesn't mean they don't exist."

"Think of all the boyfriends we've had," Seimma reminded her. "Let see, there was Tharon who was as hairy as a herdbeast and then there was Birol, who was too obsessed with himself to notice me."

"And there was Iral who snorted like a hog at the end of every sentence," Kirati agreed. "But we just happened to end up with those freaks. There have been good ones too."

Siemma crossed her arms. "Name one boyfriend you or I've had who hasn't had at least one major flaw. Emarian doesn't count."

"Okay..." Kirati thought for a moment. "What about Riaenn?"

"He couldn't dress himself," Siemma reminded her.
"Cesan?" Kirati tried.

"He cried after every time we did anything," Siemma groaned.

"Well then maybe Emarian's just the first of many good boyfriends," Kirati suggested.

"You wish," Siemma scoffed.

Kirati had done a good job of coordinating her outfit with Emarian's. Her dress was an icy light blue that matched her eyes and his leggings and tunic were a deep navy. On the dance floor they were a swirl of blue, the colors of their outfits blending together during the faster songs.

They danced most of the night, stopping only for the evening meal and then, much later, for a refreshing drink of wine. "Red or white?" Emarian asked her as he returned with two wineskins.

"Red," Kirati answered quickly. "White wines and I have never liked eachother." Emarian chuckled and filled her glass with red wine and then filled his with white. Kirati took a sip, noticing that it had an almost tangy streak to it she hadn't tasted in a red wine before.

Emarian sipped at his wine slowly, talking to her in between. Kirati tried her best to listen, but as she drank more and more of the wine she found it harder and harder to concentrate on what he was saying. She was so tired. Her eyes ached from the effort of being kept open. Finally, it was too much. With a little sigh, she slumped down onto the table and into a fellis drugged sleep.

Emarian put down his glass of wine and calmly scooped her up in his arms and carried her off. No one thought anything of it; it was quite normal for pairs to slip away to more private places as the night wore on. How could any one have known she was drugged, or that he did not intend to slip away to a more private place for any normal reason?

. back . next .