‘My h-husband,’ she said it hesitantly, lifting her head again. Her voice had a note of wonder in it as if she could not quite believe it were so....He laughed, his eyes dancing. ‘My Lady wife,’ he said with a teasing grin. Tashka pulled her left hand free of the soft sheets and quilts and looked at it, with the ruby betrothal ring and heavy twisted gold wedding ring on it. Vadya put his own left hand out and their finger-tips met, their fingers touched to the other’s, the palms of their hands. Fingertip flicked the smoldering cigarette, ash drifted downward in a powerless spiral, and a purse of thin scarlet stained lips drew on its end, flaring the ember’s burn at its tip for a moment, before it returned to its weak and faded glow. Dark strands of pitch hung limply against her face, oily tendrils clinging to her brow. Hollowed cheeks, gaunt frame spoke of iron control and wild helplessness, the faint taste of bile lingered at the back of her throat. Beauty was fickle, the slender. More

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