Kreyu does not mind him watching at all. She sits on the couch next to him, her body touching his, kisses his cheek.

"My wise husband knows me well," she tells him. She brushes some of his hair out of his face, and he can see that there are intricate patterns even on her palms. "Henna like this is supposed to be lucky for a bride, the artist told me. Supposed to be BEFORE the wedding, but you and I will enjoy them anyway, hm?"