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grateful. Those scents tended to make everyone within a six foot radius gag.  No, she smelled like flowers.  Maybe lily of the valley?  He wasn’t sure, but he liked it.  The scent was refreshing.

“This is indeed a wonderful occasion!” the general said, lifting the glass of wine a waiter had just filled.  “A toast!”

Unfortunately, the waiters were still filling the glasses, so there was an awkward pause as the waiter rushed around the room.

“Sorry about that,” the general harrumphed, then lifted his glass higher.  “To a beautiful end to many years of conflict!”

Tasim nodded, relieved that he’d offered such an appropriate toast.  Tasim tipped his glass towards the others, then sipped the wine and set the glass down on the table.

“You don’t like the wine?” Luna asked, leaning towards him ever so slightly.  The movement caused a whiff of her soft perfume to drift over him and he tightened his stranglehold on that infernal, and unwelcome, lust.  He didn’t want to find her attractive!  From what he’d heard, Princess Luna was selfish and spoiled.  Beautiful, of course, but he’d had his fill of mistresses who were emotionally demanding or annoyingly spoiled.

“The wine is fine,” he replied tightly, then turned to speak to the woman on his right.  He had no idea what his neighbor was blathering on about, but he feigned an interest, just so he wouldn’t have to smell Luna’s perfume or see her lean towards him, giving him an enticing peek at that distracting shadow.

And that perfume!  What was it?

The waiters arrived, bringing steaming platters for the next course, setting elaborate plates of beautifully cooked cuisine in front of each person.

“This looks absolutely delicious,” Janice announced, slicing herself a tiny portion of the marinated turkey.  “You’ve outdone yourself with the menu, Princess Luna.”

Tasim refrained from rolling his eyes.  Princess Luna hadn’t had anything to do with the creation of this meal, he scoffed.  Tasim doubted she even knew where the palace kitchen was located!  He turned, ready to hear her claim credit for the meal.

To his surprise, he heard the complete opposite.  “The chef explained that the turkey is marinated in a Cuban sauce that includes grated orange zest, orange juice, lime juice, mint, oregano, cilantro, and a variety of herbs,” she clarified, eager to try this new flavor.

He grudgingly gave her points for giving the credit to the chef.

“Sounds original,” Tasim commented, serving himself a slice of the succulent meat.  Because Luna’s was back against the wall, the waiter struggled to serve her. “I’ll do it,” Tasim volunteered, stopping the waiter from attempting, and potentially dropping the entire serving onto Luna’s lap.

“That’s okay, I can just…” Luna paused, startled by the amount he’d placed right in the center of her plate.  “Well, thank you.”  She eyed her plate, irritated that he’d served her such a large portion.  She’d have to eat all of that?  Leaning closer, she whispered sarcastically, “Are you going to cut it up for me as well, Your Highness?”

He looked at her sharply, then smiled politely. “I would be happy to, if you need assistance.  I’m always willing to help a damsel in distress.”

“Of course you are!” she hissed right back at him.  “Because all Neanderthals are enlightened!”

He blinked, startled by her comment.  “Do you have an objection to my record on women’s rights, Your Highness?”

She shrugged and smiled blandly, but her eyes glittered with irritation.  “Of course I don’t.  I’m just a silly little girl.  Why would I have an opinion on something as complex as half of your country’s population living in servitude?”

He laughed softly, but he wasn’t amused.  “If being happily married and living with their families is considered servitude in your mind, then you have a pretty major problem.”

The waiter arrived with lemon sauce and steamed broccoli.  Smoothly, Tasim put a spoonful on his plate.  Then turned to Luna, eyebrows raised, silently asking if she’d like any.

“No.  Thank you.”

“You don’t eat vegetables?” he asked, still holding the broccoli tongs.

Her eyes flashed, but she maintained a serene smile so that anyone looking on would assume they were having a congenial conversation.  “Of course I eat vegetables.  I’m just not fond of broccoli.”  She stared right back at him, daring him to comment.  There was a long pause as they glared at each other.  The confrontation was finally broken when she heard the silver spoon clank angrily against her plate.  Looking down, she realized that there was an enormous pile of broccoli that literally covered all the other food on her plate.

Her lips pressed together for a moment before quickly curving into a polite smile.  “Why thank you, Your Highness.  I’m so glad that you’re here to take care of little ole me.  What would I do without your paternalistic efforts to keep me healthy?”

He didn’t respond.  He simply handed the platter to the waiter, and again snubbed her by turning to converse with the woman on his other side.

“You must love broccoli,” the man to her left commented with a soft chuckle as they both looked down at her plate.

“Oh, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat all of this,” she said to the man, in a voice loud enough so that the jerk could hear.  “I’m sure that I’ll find something creative to do with it though. I don’t want food to go to waste.”

The general cleared his throat, calling attention.

“Would anyone like to hear a joke?” he asked the table hopefully.  Before the group could reply, he eagerly began.  “A guy walks into a bar…” the general paused, his smile lighting up as the other guests at the table ended their conversations and looked on politely.  “And he’s carrying jumper cables.”  The general looked around, eager to please.  “The bartender turns to him and says, ‘Hey buddy, don’t start anything in here.’”

Luna slapped a hand over her

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