Please accept my first entry to Friday Fictioneer for the December 26, 2013 edition.
Bowing, he clicked his heels , and pressed lips to her hand. “I waited all night.”
She nodded, not trusting herself.
“Not even for this?” His eyes swept to the Tower. The bright beacon promised much.
She shook her head.
Gently holding her hand, he murmured, “Your People offered you up.”
Proud, she remembered.
He smiled. “Come. Our year awaits.” His voice promised silks and sweets.
Perhaps their son would join the People and the New Ones. War would end. Women would smile again.