Fifteen years ago, a young magician who escaped from the palace to the city carnival in secret, jokingly recited an ancestral marriage vow to a giggling girl in a mask whose lips smelled of strawberries, and whose arms taking hold of his shoulders made him lose his mind. Champagne surged through his blood and struck his head. She was so small and so fragile in his hands—a trusting earthly girl. Without any magic, she kissed him until his legs trembled. The vow’s words, memorized since childhood, slipped off the young man’s lips by themselves.
Of course, those were only beautiful words. Without an altar and the proper ritual, they didn’t have power. The magician was sure.
At dawn they parted, still wearing their masks—because it was terrifying to shatter the delightful feeling of a fairy tale that had been sparking between them all night. Young and frivolous. They agreed to meet here at noon—no masks—and meet for real. Biting back her swollen, kissed lips, she fluttered up the stairs easily and disappeared through the hotel door. As it turned out, she had vanished forever. His Shaari-Na—his chosen one…