The Exchange Ch. 01

After the gifts were put away, it was time for the bride to be shown to her new family.

A set of bearers brought a gilded and flowery palanquin into the hall. Thick curtains hid the occupants.

The bearers set the palanquin down on the silk sheet, perhaps a few feet away from the platform. Then they all knelt down and prostrated themselves. They didn't get up.

The first thing to peek out from the curtain was a small, milky white hand with rosy palms. Then an emerald green slipper on a small foot with equally pale flesh. Both these body parts had fashionable henna applied in shapes of flowers, leaves, dots, and lines. The person lightly climbed out.

Quiet.

No music.

No whispering.

Even the women were in awe.

Princess Lataa's lips tightened.

The women standing on the silk sheet was petite with only the gentlest of curves. She was wearing an outfit of dark blue. No pants, a long and flowing skirt instead. Her top was quite small, essentially strips of fabric barely covering her small breasts, held together with blue strings that had some small pendants. Her hair was a smooth cloak of flame reaching her hips, orange and gold blending together. Her face had a sharp jaw but was otherwise soft and pretty. The nose was only slightly wide and round at the bottom, where the nostrils were. The eyes were a pale green color. Her lips were small but with a larger bottom lip than top.

And dotted over a good deal of her pretty skin, there were pale brown freckles.

Like cinnamon and brown sugar on a sweet white rice dish.

Even Prince Nitishila, the groom, had a visible interest.

This was likely the bride's attendant, an example of womanhood from Eiragla. There was a great assortment of hair and eye colors to be found there, and many people were very pale. The coloring of this woman wasn't shocking. It was just that, well, her face was sweet and her hands and feet were small. Plus, her eyes were big, and her face was shaped well. She wasn't just exotic. She was beautiful.

Her freckled face blushing, she lightly kicked her slippers away and neatly arranged them with shaking toes. Then she opened a curtain in the palanquin to help the other occupant out.

Most people gasped.

Prince Nitishila bent forward a little, and he gripped the edge of the tier he sat on. His lips parted. He took a sharp inhale and held his breath for a good while.

Princess Lataa dug her long fingernails into a cushion as her eyebrows lowered.

Princess Inka wasn't tall at all, the same height as her attendant, in fact. However, she didn't have the same body. She was a pale, pearl hourglass. Her waist seemed to be as small as healthily possible, while her hips were very wide, her backside fairly large yet high, and her breasts ... well ... they weren't so big that she looked comical, but they were still quite big.

Her wedding outfit was as pink as a cosmos flower. A loincloth that covered the genitals and the center of the buttocks, nearly touching the floor as the woman stood, with a thick silver belt in a weave pattern. Her belly was exposed, as was expected. Her top had even less fabric than her attendant's; each breast only had enough fabric to stretch over a nipple. A thin white veil had been placed over her very pale blonde curls, reaching an inch or so past the longest curl, falling past her backside. Silver stars and flowers put extra glitter to the fabric.

But that princess didn't need any extra glitter. Oh no.

Sparkling gemstones of every color except pink, held in silver, and very ornate, they were dazzling.

On the veil, there was as a small turban, but it was practically covered in gemstones. It nearly seemed to be nothing but stones. There was also a dangling pendant hanging down on her smooth brow. A silver clasp loosely held the princess' hair behind her back, allowing her long, dangling, pear shaped earrings to be seen, including the miscellaneous tiny stones that hung from them for added texture and movement. Several necklaces were placed on her throat, collarbone, and even a few layers across and down the sternum.

Rings were on her toes and fingers, often multiple on a single finger. Arm bands, bracelets, and anklets looked quite heavy on her limbs, especially with the crossing chains and suspended stones. And of course, jewels were sewn into the clothes, making pointless if pretty borders. Even her slippers had jewels.

The face was soothing.

Heart shaped, but softly so, her face had modest curves. Her lips were plump but not too much. Her nose was straight and gentle with a smooth tip. Her eyes were large, but with a subtle tilt, the outer corners raised a bit.

And the irises were a dark cyan, a teal color.

The attendant bent down to take the slippers off her mistress' feet. Then both hers and her mistress' were hanging from her fingers. The bearers got up to take the palanquin and carry it out of the celebration hall.

Her lovely eyes pointed down, Princess Inka slowly walked forward, her attendant a step behind her. The jewelry was loud. When the women were close to the platform, they both knelt down and prostrated themselves.

That was when Empress Lavanya closed her mouth, got up, walked down the tiers of the platform, and stood before the new women. She waved her hand at the musicians. "What are you fools doing?! Continue!!"

The musicians returned to their composed states and resumed their song. Their drum beats increased in speed.

Empress Lavanya's attendant trotted on over to her with a pillow bearing a leather flask and a golden cup. The redheaded attendant quietly put the shoes at the bottom of the platform, where the other shoes were, and she went off to join the rest. Princess Inka slowly got to her feet.

Empress Lavanya took the flask and poured its contents into the cup; it was only water, but it was symbolic water. As her attendant walked back to her position and handed the pillow to a servant, the Empress handed Princess Inka the cup. The young blonde took a tiny sip as performers arrived. Those performers shot streamers into the air while the musicians focused on flutes. Applause echoed from the guests' hands. The Empress took the golden cup back and brushed away a stray streamer that had landed on Princess Inka's shoulder.

Her hair flicking in the air, Empress Lavanya turned around and waited. Her son was going down the platform. When he was standing before his mother, he went down to his knees and gave a short bow. Then he got up. His attendant went to him and draped a white cloth on his shoulder.

Prince Nitishila dipped his hands in the water and then dried them with the cloth. His attendant took the cloth and went away. More streamers were thrown. More applause was given. Fast drums again, more strings, tambourines, and flutes. The prince gave another bow and went back to his place on the platform. With a wide smile, Empress Lavanya took her new daughter-in-law's hand and led her to a spot perhaps a foot and a half from Prince Nitishila, beside him on the same tier. It was right below the Empress Consort, which made it easier to monitor the princess.

The silk cloth on the floor was quickly rolled up. It was replaced by a soft and wide runner rug. The Empress Consort made a specific gesture to her attendant, and that woman went went to a servant to relay the apparent message. As a group of male dancers went to the rug, some servants quietly came, each holding a bowl of pineapple chunks and mango slices mixed in with ice shavings. Then they bowed and handed the bowls to Princess Inka and her redheaded attendant, and those women took the bowls with light nods.

The dancing was smooth but vibrant. The music matched it well. The guests were highly pleased, eating most of the food with their fingers, as was customary. Attendants brought several dishes up to their assigned masters and mistresses, letting them pick at each item until they tired of it. Princess Inka was much more uncertain about it. Half of the time she had to be told what a dish was, what it was made of, and how one was meant to eat it. That only made people gossip about her even more. She didn't know what this sauce was? She didn't know what that meat was? Poor dear!!

But the one fact that made people gossip the most was how Prince Nitishila often gazed at her, slowly blinking, sometimes in the middle of bringing a piece of food to his lips. As a result, the normally dignified prince sometimes held some food midair with an open mouth for long periods of time. This man knew how to wrestle with tigers, tame wild horses, shoot crossbows and hand cannons, and how to take down an opponent with martial arts. Even with all these facts, the woman who sat beside him, the woman who hadn't ever looked at him, was unintentionally making him look like a fool.

Night crept into the party, and soon it was all done, emphasized by a group of female dancers moving like snakes. The guests were sent off to the provided rooms. The attendants escorted their masters and mistresses off to their apartments.

***

"Your Highness ... Your Highness?!"

"Hm? What?" The prince turned to look at Mamun's shrewd face, partially lit up by his oil lamp's light. He was a man of average height, but on the thinner side and with short hair.

"Your bride is waiting on you," Mamun said with a worried tone. He was frowning.

Prince Nitishila twisted his fingers in his pants as he shifted on the low couch he was resting on. Then he looked out a window, past the shadows of a garden, and up to the moon. Half of it was visible. It made him think of an ivory comb. His arm rested on top of the stone windowsill. "I'm glad you're well."

"I ... Your Highness?"

"If you'd still been ill, then I'd have to place my trust with a servant unaccustomed to my needs." His fingers curled and his nails quietly scratched the hard material beneath it. "If I'd stained my clothing or ... or even fallen over, who else could adequately rescue me?"

"Did ... Did that woman," Mamun whispered in the middle of his question, "truly unnerve you?"

The prince's breath was sandy. He gave an old sounding sigh. "I can't request a visit to her apartment, not without a set of passable gifts."

Sharply, the attendant said, "What?" Then his voice lowered again. "But ... but you ordered gifts in advance. They're beautiful, costly, and worthy of a princess' hands."

But Prince Nitishila slapped the windowsill, then gripped it, leaned against the window's casing, and grumbled out, "Not good enough."

***