"Arowenia," he murmured, and brought her hand to his lips. "You look lovely." He broke off and a tiny frown formed between his eyebrows. "Though I wonder that they chose peach instead of green. Hectia knows that I prefer we match."

Hectia. Yes. That was the name of the other woman, the one who had chosen her dress. The one who always chose her dresses now that Terra was gone.

"Yes, of course," Arowenia agreed tonelessly. "Shall I change?"

"No, no." He brushed it ...