Lying on her bed, Cerena gazed at the canopy above, her eyes lost in thought. The engagement ceremony had been a true trial for her nerves… yet she knew it was nothing compared to what awaited her at the wedding. From what her instructor had explained, she understood that the humiliation would be even greater—both because of the ritual itself and the presence of a larger audience.

  With the tips of her fingers, she touched the pendant of her necklace resting on her chest and lifted it to eye level.

  A moonstone, symbol of femininity and fertility, set within a gold medallion, associated with divinity and power. This gift was anything but trivial: it made her feel nauseous.

  The wedding ceremony would not take place for several months, so her lessons continued—and were set to intensify even further.

  ???

  Cerena had been accompanied to the ballroom for her daily lesson by the Captain of the Guard, whom she was beginning to know.

  “My Lady,” he began, bowing low, “I wish to offer my sincerest congratulations on your betrothal.”

  The Captain was a good man, she felt. At the palace, he had been one of the few men to show her a measure of sympathy and understanding, despite his keen sense of duty and unwavering loyalty to the Emperor. She felt rather at ease in his presence, and trusted him to some extent.

  But this time, she did not know what to say. Did she even have the right to respond? She had never been given a choice; she merely endured.

  “I must also inform you that I have been assigned as your personal bodyguard, effective immediately,” he continued.

  She regarded him with an expressionless look.

  A bodyguard? For what purpose? she thought. It was not as if anyone could reach her here… not even the sun’s rays could.

  “If you should require anything, do not hesitate to call upon me. I am at your service.”

  What she truly needed was a bit of freedom, and her family. What more could she possibly ask of him?

  Suddenly, a notion sprouted in her mind: a small, minuscule hope.

  “Could you teach me to defend myself?” she asked.

  “Pardon me?” he replied, incredulous.

  “I wish… to learn how to wield a sword,” she added, feigning ignorance.

  He looked at her for a moment, his eyes wide. He searched for words before replying politely:

  “I… I am sorry, My Lady, but I am compelled to refuse. A lady of your rank should not concern herself with such trivialities. I assure you, you have nothing to fear while I am here to watch over you.”

  She watched him, hoping he would reconsider, then let out a sigh of disappointment. Turning on her heel, she left the Captain perplexed.

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  She had expected as much. No one would ever see her as anything other than a woman, dependent on others simply to exist.

  Not even him, a man of principle whom she respected.

  ???

  Dance and music were taught to Cerena to satisfy the Emperor in a private setting, specifically for the wedding night: a traditional dance, both slow, graceful, and elegant.

  Of course, he also taught her other styles of dance, particularly partnered dances, so she would be prepared for any eventuality.

  One day, during one of these lessons, they received a visit from the Emperor. Cerena was surprised and would have been utterly destabilized had she not practiced her posture: in the presence of her instructor, she could not afford such a lapse in conduct. Both bowed, but the Emperor, standing back, gestured for them to continue without paying him further attention.

  The lesson resumed, and Cerena tried, as best she could, to ignore the penetrating gaze of her imperial fiancé upon her.

  After long minutes, he stepped forward and said:

  “Withdraw, and leave us thus.”

  The instructor bowed and departed without further word, Cerena following him with a pleading glance, then, motionless, lowered her eyes.

  The Emperor approached to within a few steps.

  “We shall proceed,” he said.

  Short of breath, Cerena trembled at the thought of being judged by her future husband. Setting aside her embarrassment, she obeyed in silence, returned to her position, and repeated the slow, fluid, and graceful movements her instructor had taught her.

  Focused on her movements, she did not notice the man’s hand approaching hers. He took her wrist gently and shifted it only slightly, correcting her posture.

  Her pulse quickened. The session continued, the Emperor assuming the role of instructor, correcting each misstep. As the dance drew to a close, Cerena froze and let her gaze drift toward him, in a bold attempt to discern what he expected of her.

  Suddenly, locking eyes with hers, he raised his right hand to waist height, palm facing up, and waited silently. It took the young woman a moment to realize.

  She then extended a hand, slightly trembling, and placed it timidly on his. He smiled, and with a calm gesture drew her closer, placing his left hand behind her waist.

  Pressing against him, she had not been so physically close to him for a long time. Despite all her effort to maintain composure, she could not help but feel a cold sweat trickle down her neck.

  Nothing of Cerena’s discomfort escaped the Emperor: her heart pounding in her temples, her uncontrolled breath, the shiver running down her spine, even the vertigo threatening to unbalance her.

  Yet he did not let go. He supported her and guided their steps in a slow, subtle dance, pressed together. They remained so for several minutes.

  In a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke into her ear:

  “I bear tidings.”

  Startled, Cerena opened her eyes wide, awaiting what he would say next.

  “Thy children live… They chart their own course. Thou shalt behold them anon, this I am assured.”

  At these words, a wave of melancholy and relief washed over her; she could not hold back the tears that streamed silently down her cheeks. The Emperor’s hand slid gradually from her waist to her back, then to her neck, brushing her hair, almost with tenderness.

  Finally, placing her free hand against her cavalier’s waist, she buried her head in his shoulder, letting go, surrendering to her emotions, and in so doing transgressing every rule that had been instilled in her.