Chapter 1: The Bride

She sat in an elaborately carved palanquin, the sides draped with heavy cloth so that she could not be seen from the outside. Unable to move because of the thickness and rigidity of her ceremonial gowns, she ached from sitting in the same position for so long. From her jewelled headdress was draped a heavy veil which hid her face completely so that, as she had walked to the palanquin, she could see only her feet and a few inches of ground in front of her.

All around in the procession she could hear musicians playing traditional hymns to the deities and the celebratory chants of the people lining her route. She could feel the angle of her carriage change, telling her that she was now on the path up the hill to the palace. Within a very short time now she would be arriving at the place where she would become a wife of the King. Her heart began to pound within her as she contemplated the fate to which she was being carried.

Trying to keep calm, she visualised herself at home, back in the women's quarters of her father's house. She pictured the rooms she would not see again, engraving them on her heart so that she could escape home in her dreams. She pictured the faces of her sisters and brothers who would in future visit her formally as the King's wife. She wanted to remember happier days when they were children, unburdened by thoughts of duty, destiny and marriage.

She pictured her brothers playing tennis in the garden. When they had friends come to play, she used to watch them from the windows of the women's quarters. She would sometimes imagine that she would marry one of these handsome young men and wonder what it would be like. There was one particular young man who used to come nearly every week to play with her brothers. She used to watch the way he moved and listen to him laugh all through the game. If only her husband would be a laughing man like this. It would be such a pity to be the wife of a humourless husband. Although he had not been to their house for months now, she still thought about him when her family talked to her about marriage.

But a few weeks ago her father had told her a marriage had been arranged for her. He said the family was greatly honoured because the King himself had asked for her as his bride. She had wept for days at the death of her dreams. However great the honour, she was afraid of being given to the King. She had hoped to go to a man with only a few wives, where she might have companionship without being swallowed into a large household. How many others would there be? Would they be kind to her? Would she have a difficult time as a junior wife once the King had taken a successor to her in turn? She knew so little of life in a royal palace.

As she focused on images of her home, she felt the palanquin lean forwards, then come to rest on the ground. Holding her breath, she waited for the side cloth to be raised, she felt her father's hand take hers and heard him say to her, "Daughter, we have arrived at the palace of the King."

Very slowly, she climbed out of the palanquin and leaned heavily on her father's arm as he led her towards the palace steps. He passed her hands to two women of the palace who led her up the steps. At the top of the steps she felt the temperature change abruptly as they came in out of the sun, into a room of which she could only see the marble floor. Seeing nothing, she was acutely aware of the sounds around her, the scurrying feet, the swishing of rich robes and the fanfare of trumpets announcing her arrival. She had been schooled in the elements of the ceremony which was about to take place but she could scarcely remember any of it now that the moment had come.

Along internal corridors she moved blindly, led by the unknown women. Were they senior wives? Were they handmaidens? Were they members of the King's family, or even her own aunts? She could not tell. On and on until at last the procession came to a halt and she was guided to sit on a cushioned chair raised on a dais.

For the next hour, she listened to priests chant prayers and blessings in a language she did not understand. At one point she heard her father's voice answering a question from a priest. Was this the point at which her father gave her to the King? With those few words, was she no longer his daughter? Had he just handed control of her life to someone she had never met? As these thoughts passed through her mind, she felt hands on her arms, gently raising her to her feet. One of the women beside her whispered to her that this was the moment when she must follow the King round the sacred fire. A band of heavily embroidered fabric was placed in her hands. She felt a gently pull on the band, indicating that she should follow. Watching the floor so as not to fall over, she followed the King who must be at the other end of the band.

Hands returned her to the chair. Other hands brought her symbolic offerings of food, which she struggled to eat, happy for the first time that the heavy veil hid her difficulties from those who would be gathered here for this state occasion. More prayers and chants followed, until the wailing of the women signalled that the ceremony was at an end and that she would now symbolically leave her family to join the family of the King.

Hands led her in another procession, which came to rest in a quieter room with rich rugs on the floor. There was a sound like great doors closing behind her. As she continued looking at the only thing she could see, a pair of feet appeared directly in front of hers. She felt a hand touch the side of her face and release the veil. She looked up expecting to see the face of the King, who she believed to be a man of around sixty years of age. Astonishingly, the face she saw was that of a young and handsome man. Surely this was the young man who had played tennis with her brothers. This was the young man she had fantasised about.

He spoke in a whisper only to her. "Hello again." Seeing the surprise in her face he smiled, "My father the old King died six months ago. Was it his face you expected to see?"

She nodded slightly, unable to speak or take in what was happening. Looking around quickly, she saw that there were around a dozen courtiers with them in the chamber, all with their eyes cast to the floor.

So that all those present could hear him now, he said to her, "Welcome, little one, to my home. Come, join me within."

As she had been taught she must say, she told him, "I am the King's to command."

He took her hand, and slowly led her through another door into an inner chamber. Once they were inside the room, but without closing the door, he led her to a chair in the corner out of sight of the doorway, then turned and put his face very close to her ear.

"This is a great ordeal for both of us. Those courtiers are my closest advisors. According to tradition, they wait in the outer chamber and witness that we have consummated our marriage. You must trust me that I will never hurt you and do exactly what I say."

She nodded once again, terrified at what might come next. Whispering reassurances to her throughout, he helped her to remove her headdress - not like a King, but with quick and clever hands like her maid at home. He helped her to take off her heavy outer robes, then threw them across the floor so that they were visible from the outer room. He removed his own headdress and coat, adding them to the pile.

From a cupboard he brought two silk robes, putting one on himself and whispering to her to put on the other. He then took off his trousers and shoes, gesturing to her to do the same and turning away so as not to watch her. Shaking with terror, she obeyed her King's instructions and more garments were thrown onto the growing pile. As all this was going on, the King would from time to time emit the strangest little moans and sighs.

Looking over anxiously at the doorway, he said a little louder, "Lovely little one, you are more beautiful than I could have imagined. Come now and lie with me." Her eyes widened and her heart raced, but she watched astonished as the King lay down heavily on the bed and began to roll around by himself, making the strangest of noises. After a little while, he began to bounce a little on the bed and kept repeating, "Yes. Oh, yes, little one. That is very beautiful. Oh, beautiful one, yes."

Astonished by this behaviour, she concluded that the King must be mad. That the once laughing young man must now be sick in the head. How else could she explain how he was acting now. All of a sudden, he began to bounce faster on the bed, calling out, "Yes, yes. Oh, my God, yes," and letting out a long moan as if he were hurt. He fell back on the bed panting, then propped himself up on one elbow, and winked at her. Seeing the shock and astonishment on her face, he stifled a laugh and gestured to her to come towards the bed.

Leaning forward, he whispered to her, "Don't worry, sit down beside me now. That should keep the old ones happy and they will go away quite soon. Come, sit down and rest after your ordeal this afternoon." Confused but grateful, she sat on the edge of the bed then, encouraged by the King, she swung her feet up and relaxed a little on the mountain of pillows.

From the outer chamber there was a hum of quiet conversation, then shuffling of feet, followed by the opening and shutting of the heavy doors. Leaping off the bed, the King bounded over to the doorway and looked out into the other room.

"Thank God for that. They've all gone," he said, clearly much relieved.

Bounding back towards her, he brought a tray from a side table, poured her some wine and offered her delicious morsels of food for which she was grateful now that the formal ceremonies were over.

"I'm so sorry about all that. You see, when my father died and I became King, they were keen to have me take a wife as soon as possible and every council meeting began with their pleas for me to marry some dreadful daughter of a King they wanted to flatter and cultivate. Each time, I thought of the little sister of my boyhood friends. I had watched you at the window when we played tennis and felt that I knew you a little. I insisted that, before I made any political marriages, I would marry the first time according to the desire of my heart and I approached your father to ask for you. I tried to stop this circus, but it has been the tradition for generations and I would have made enemies if I had insisted on such a change this early in my reign."

The intense pleasure she felt in this explanation surprised her. He was even more handsome close up than she remembered from his tennis days. And he had gone to all this trouble to protect her from what would have been a humiliating ordeal. At that moment, a childish crush on her brothers' friend was transformed into something far more profound and she almost forgot that this was the King - and her husband.

After about an hour, the King went into the outer chamber and rang a bell. He ordered some food for them and they sat on the huge bed, enjoying their meal and falling into an easy conversation. He entertained her with amusing stories of the courtiers and fussed over her, picking choice titbits and sweetmeats for her to try. By the time they had eaten and drunk and laughed they were both happy and relaxed. Pretending to reach past her for something, he planted a tiny soft kiss on her cheek.

Suddenly quite serious, he told her gently, "It will be fine for us. We will be happy together. I promise you that. And I will not hurry you. You need not come to me until you are willing."

Looking shyly downwards, she smiled. Almost inaudibly she told him, "I am grateful to you for that... but I am willing now."

Reaching out to her, he raised her chin so that they were looking into each other's eyes then he wrapped her in his arms and pressed gentle kisses over her face, whispering endearments to her and stroking her hair. Suddenly conscious of what was about to happen, yet having no idea of what was required of her, she tensed.

"Please don't worry. I promise that I will do nothing to hurt you. Trust me, little one."

Standing up, he took her hand and pulled her up until she too was standing. He kissed her face again, working back towards her lips. Very lightly at first, he kissed her lips. He wrapped her in his arms, then allowed the pressure of his lips to part hers slightly. She barely noticed the first brush of his tongue on her mouth, it was so gentle. But she was lost in the kiss, in an intimacy she could never have imagined. By degrees, his kiss became firmer and deeper in her and she knew by instinct how to respond to the sweet tongue and the sensual lips.

After a few minutes, he told her, "I shall turn away. You should take off the rest of your clothes and put your robe back on. I shall not watch you."

With clumsy hands she did as she was bidden, watching his back nervously in case he should turn and see her nakedness. Quickly she drew the silk robe round her again and told him she was ready. He told her to sit down on the bed and that he would return in a moment. He went into the outer chamber and she heard a rustle of clothes before he returned with his robe wrapped around him.