Chapter Six
“You are the prettiest bride,” Loria giggled as she fixed the curls of Charlotte’s golden hair with flowers and ribbons.
“I do wish it were longer!” she moaned. Her new hair barely reached her shoulders, though it shone with a luster that seemed sparked by the sun.
“Ah, but it is so beautiful,” the brown-haired slave retorted enviously. “Imagine how it will flow down your back once it’s grown again.”
“But today is my wedding!”
“And still you look like heaven, milady.”
“Ah! But when we say wedding in my world we mean something quite different than an Ilusian one.”
“I can’t comment on that,” Loria said. “The rites are secret—especially from slaves.”
“And you’ve never married Caius?”
“Men like Caius don’t need to marry. It seems a ritual most suited for nobles.”
“But you
