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paraded in front of the prince. She shook her head, not wanting to think about it.
    â€œHow long will I have to stay? How will the prince choose?”
    Anaya laid the clothes she’d collected in the chair and sat by Cahri on the sofa. A soft smile revealed perfect, white teeth and a dimple in Anaya’s right cheek. “I know you have many questions, and they will be answered in time, but not tonight. You must know it is an honor to be chosen.”
    Cahri couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. “It may be an honor for others, but I’m not interested. I don't want to be the prince's wife, or anybody else's, at least not right now.”
    â€œI understand your reluctance, but you have been chosen.”
    She continued on as though Anaya hadn’t spoken. “When I do become a wife, I want it to be because I love the man and he loves me.” She wanted someone she could trust and share everything with — a marriage like her parents'.
    Her mind flashed to the handsome man in the food market, whom she’d seen for mere minutes. Why did his face keep popping up in her head? She pushed the vision away.
    â€œWouldn’t we all want to love and be loved? Reality is often not so simple.” Anaya’s voice betrayed a hint of resignation. “You may not be chosen by the prince. If you aren’t, and choose not to marry a noble, you will be free to leave.”
    What did Cahri know about this prince? Nothing. She hadn't even seen his picture. Although she watched the news and read the newspaper almost every day, she didn’t recall ever seeing anything about him. Was he the same prince who’d been in the car accident around the time her parents died?
    Anaya rose and faced Cahri. “It is time to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day and much has to be done, but I will be here to help you.”
    Cahri stared at Anaya. How would she sleep with so many questions left unanswered?
    The guard whispered to Anaya and headed toward the door. He stopped, turned back for a moment to glare at Anaya, a flash of contempt on his face. Cahri blinked, but the look disappeared. She shook her head. Too much else to think about.
    She prepared for bed while Anaya stepped out to speak with the two men, but knew sleep would elude her. Too many questions bounced around in her head. Curiosity interrupted her normal bedtime routine. She grabbed her laptop, moved to her room, and sat down on the bed. After it booted up, she typed in Bridal March Belikara.
    In seconds, the screen displayed the information she longed for. The site informed her that the steward chose women from around the area to participate in the march. Each traveled from their homes to the palace to be paraded in front of the prince. If the websites were correct, after the prince either dismissed the woman or chose his bride, any of the nobles who wished to take a wife from among the eliminated women could make a proposal. The woman would wed, if chosen, or she could choose a life of servitude or exile.
    It amazed her that the Bridal March remained an accepted practice. She hadn’t expected something like this to happen in the twenty-first century. The information stated the last time it had been invoked was in 1920. Almost a hundred years ago. The current king, and his father before him, had married before his twenty-fifth birthday, so the Bridal March had not been needed.
    Cahri sighed. She chose to remain in this country and to become one of its citizens so she would live by their rules, even if she didn't like some of them. Her parents had instilled in her the need to follow the rules of the land because God's Word commanded it.
    Why had the steward picked her? Her auburn hair, though most often covered by a hat, declared her a foreigner as much as her green eyes and creamy skin.
    The door opened and closed. Anaya must have finished her discussion and gotten whatever she needed.
    Cahri wandered to the bathroom. She removed