A flute melody drifts over as we eat, and we look down into the garden to see a group of minstrels playing. A crowd gathers to listen, swaying along to the music in colorful gowns and sparkling jewels.

Finally Mehtap tugs at my arm. “It’s time,” she says.

Indeed, the musicians are putting down their instruments, and I see Arxa, Dineas, and the soldier Walgash step in front of them. They’re led by two men in rich purple-and-gold robes that can only be Emperor Kurosh and Prince Kiran.

The crowd quiets as Kiran starts to speak. We’re too far away to hear everything, but I catch bits and pieces. “Quick thinking…skilled and dedicated soldiers…”

Mehtap glows with pride, eyes fixed on her father. As for me, my gaze keeps drifting to Dineas. His dark brown hair is washed and trimmed, and his crisp, ankle-length robe almost makes him look like nobility, though it doesn’t hide his strong arms and broad shoulders. As I look on, Kiran places large purple sashes over Arxa’s, Dineas’s, and Walgash’s shoulders. The crowd cheers, and then a lute player starts a lively tune.

As the sun begins to set, servants light paper lanterns along the paths. It gives the entire place a magical feel, especially where the pools reflect their glow. In the garden, a flute and dulcimer begin a duet, and I take in a deep breath of night air.

Mehtap raises her hands in a lazy stretch. “That was perfect,” she says. “I’m going to rest a while inside the palanquin.”

“Are you unwell?” I wouldn’t have expected her to retreat on a night such as this.

“I’m quite well, just tired.” She glances toward the festivities, then gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t come with me. You wouldn’t want to miss any visitors while you’re gone.”

Our palanquin is just outside our enclosure, along the path. Mehtap steps around the hedge, and I can hear her telling the soldier outside that she’d like to rest. I’m wondering if I should follow her, when I see a familiar figure walking toward our corner of the garden. The guards salute Dineas as he enters. He smiles when he sees me, and clasps my hands.

“I’m glad you came,” he says. He looks even more handsome up close, and he smells faintly of cedar.

“I am grateful for the invitation,” I say. “This whole night has been wonderful.”

“You look beautiful.” He says it without guile, and the look in his eyes sends a pleasant tingling through my chest.

Though I’d worried about seeing him here, he’s so genuine that it’s hard to put up walls. “It’s very sweet of you to say so.”

“May I join you in whatever you were doing?”

“I was simply enjoying the sights.”

“That sounds delightful,” he says.

“Shouldn’t you be holding court among the adoring crowds?”