"I still live!" she whispered inwardly in a last brave attempt to
combat the terrible hopelessness that was overwhelming her, but
her fingers stole for reassurance to the slim blade that she had
managed to transfer, undetected, from her old harness to the new.
And now the groom was at her side and taking her hand was leading
her up the steps to the throne, before which they halted and
stood facing the gathering below. Came then, from the back of the
room a procession headed by the high dignitary whose office it
was to make these two man and wife, and directly behind him a
richly-clad youth bearing a silken pillow on which lay the golden
handcuffs connected by a short length of chain-of-gold with which
the ceremony would be concluded when the dignitary clasped a
handcuff about the wrist of each symbolizing their indissoluble
union in the holy bonds of wedlock.
Would Turan's promised succor come too late? Tara listened to the
long, monotonous intonation of the wedding service. She heard the
virtues of O-Tar extolled and the beauties of the bride.
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