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Lord Korak saw the darkening of Gjeelea's face, but he did not care. It did not matter what she thought of him, as long she would become his wife. Something deep inside of him shrank in disgust at this, and he recalled with what fondness Lady Hababa always spoke of her dead husband. She said they had loved each other. And how happy days had been at that time. Would it matter if both he and his future bride were alive, if they did not love each other? Perhaps their lives would be miserable, and the lives of their children. What would his own childhood had been if his parents hadn't loved each other? He did not love the Princess; he suspected strongly that she did not love him.
"Your father asked for me, Princess," he said coolly, casting aside those thoughts that rose to his mind. "There were some small matters to be discussed." He watched her keenly, and she gave a little wave of her hand as if to dismiss further conversation and continue on her way. "One of the subjects was our upcoming wedding," he added. "I desire to set a definite day for its happening."
"Oh," she said, her voice light, but a light coming to her eye. It was a look of interest, and something that was not quite fear nor anger, but more akin to revulsion. But he knew she did not think well of him, so he paid this look no mind, but rather fixed his attention upon answering her question of: "Have you decided a day, then?"
"No, Princess," he said. "Your father the King has left it for the two of us to decide. I come to settle the matter with you."
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