Too late, I see the doubt in him at my subdued attitude and in my own worries I forget to reassure him of my potent happiness. Rigel is quick to reassure me of a job well done and I warm at the praise, choosing to let it soothe my insecurities for now. To some degree it feels as though it is empty flattery, meant to reassure me more than deliver the truth, but I do not take offense. It is strange to hear from Rigel, of all the brothers, that their traditions might be petrified and fossilized in this case, but I doubt that he is wrong.

For both of our cultures, many of the customs that we had held onto so strongly were outdated for the times that we lived in. To restrict ourselves to only what was, instead of what could be, was doing a mighty disservice to our people and I was glad to do this small part in moving us forward. Still, a part of me wishes to know what I should have said, if only so that I could perform my office with as much gravity as was warranted.

His gaze lingers on his brother and I follow it, my smile widening once more. I had feared my life slated for a marriage of political gain, devoid of love or passion, or any of the things young fillies dreamed of. I had thought that my Antares would be nothing more than a bland figurehead who would stifle me with his correctness and muzzle the spirit that lived in my heart. He was nothing of the sort, of course, but I had not known that at the time.

Rigel bids me to tell Antares of the Bride Price I had laid upon Atair's shoulders and I nod in agreement. "I like it. I know it is not the tradition you grew up with, but it might help to smooth things over with those less familiar with our cultures."

I watch him as I ask of the flaxen girl, and do not miss the sudden intake of his breath. So it was like that then. I do not bother to hide the widening of my smile as he begins to speak of her, and find myself drawing the easy comparison of her stories to the long-winded spiels he had treated me with on more than one occasion. What would a conversation between the two of them be like, I wonder. I trust Rigel to be a gentleman, to listen to her stories and to encourage her as he does to me.

His gaze casts downward and I know in the change of his tone that something bothers him tonight, even as he rejoices in Atair's good fortune. My pace stills and face grows serious as he shares what he has been told, and I find my brow creasing in concern. Somehow it had not crossed my mind that as twins, Atair and Rigel might not be slated for the same happiness. I knew of the tales too, had heard them and never truly considered them. Until now, the prospect of twins had been a far off idea, one that I had no need to look at in great detail.

As I considered the thought though, I could find no inner truth in the idea that Rigel did not have a soul to give to someone else. Was one's soul not their innermost person? The sum of their goodness, a tally of their faults and attributes. Rigel and Atair had shared a womb and would forever be connected by this very truth, but they were not one person any more than I was the same creature as Antares. Each had souls of their own, and I knew in my heart that because of this, they too, would have their own Soul Sewns.

I take his ending praise with a smile, but I shake my head in dismissal. "As long as we are ridding ourselves of old and dusty notions my brother, I know in my heart that you need not worry. You were born together, but as two separate creatures. Neither Allah nor Tawaret would be so cruel as to leave you without the potential for your own Soul Sewn, brother."

I shake my head and cast a gentle glance toward the receding figures of Atair and Eness. "In truth, after you told me of your experience in Mahgrib as evidence of your gentle heart, I would have thought you would be the first to find your Soul Sewn." I pace for a moment in thought, allowing the soft rhythm of my hoofbeats to clarify my thoughts. "I think though, that Atair needed it more. It is a fearsome thing to believe yourself unlovable."

I look to the sky, noting the lack of clouds and the serenity of the night. "I fear I will not be able to sleep tonight Rigel. If you will be up longer still, perhaps you can teach me of the other rights? So that I may know of all the things I should consider before I am called as the voice of Worset again."

I try to give him room to leave if he wishes, not wanting to force him to stay awake. It is a strange time for lessons, but I am far too elated to find solace behind closed eyelids tonight.