"To-day, most powerful sovereign! Is not to-day somewhat soon? Methinks it were not well to hurry the Princess."
"Our child hath given her consent, noble sir. Hast thou not, my daughter?"
"An' it please my dear lord, I have," was the low reply.
There was a long silence in the chamber. Every eye was fixed on Myra's lover. He stood gazing on the beautiful
face of her whom he worshipped—a gloomy figure in his purple garments, his eyes full of infinite sorrow.
"It seemeth that the Prince hesitateth," said the King, in a threatening voice.
Myra left the Queen, and with bent head approached her love.
"My good knight," she said, "methinks I do but dream; or, if I am awake, then hast thou changed, or some trouble hath befallen thee. Speak; my father awaits thine answer. Shall our wedding be to-day?"
"Fair lady, nothing could change my love, nor hath any trouble befallen me; and yet, our marriage ceremony cannot be solemnised to-day."
"Then to-morrow, good sir," said the King, "or the week after?"