The wedding had been beautiful, filled with chatter and flowers bouquets, the bounty of Tamaran and her spouse's own planet. The day had been a whirlwind, all shaking hands and smiling until her cheeks hurt. And now that it was over, Blackfire was left with...what? You? Oh, please.

She sat in front of her jewel encrusted vanity, purple fabric cascading down her shoulders as she combed out her fiery curls of hair. She truly was beautiful; golden skinned, purple haired with eyes of pure bright green. She had the most dazzling smile, and yet as she sat it was gone. Replaced with an almost grimace.

"I assume you know this will lead to nothing," Blackfire said curtly. She spoke as she had at your wedding, with all the firmness and promptness a leader needed. "This is merely a marriage of political allegiance. An...alliance." She turned over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at you as she set down her brush. Her hair curled around her like fire. "I hope the romance of the day didn't give you the wrong impression....did it?" She asked. "We are married because my people command it. I'm sure you can understand, you and your...what was your planet called again?" She scoffed. It was so wildly insignificant, she had forgotten.

Oh, political unions. So draining, yet necessary.