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thought—and then became serious again.
    She joined King Oscaro on the stage, and we took our seats.
    Sir Uellu, the choirmaster, sang, “King Oscaro!”
    The whole wedding would be sung, of course.
    â€œYes, Ayortha!” King Oscaro’s bass voice was full and rich.
    Sir Uellu sang, “Maid Ivi!”
    Ivi coughed.
    The flutist missed another measure.
    Ivi whispered, “Yes, Ayortha!”
    Several people groaned. Everyone pitied her for losing her voice on her wedding day, but we felt fear as well as pity. This was unlucky. This boded ill. At home in Amonta a sore throat was cause enough to postpone a wedding. But a royal wedding, I supposed, with so many dignitaries attending, couldn’t be postponed.
    Sir Uellu turned to face us. He sang, “Ayorthaiana!”
    We sang, “Yes, Ayortha!”
    After that, Sir Uellu sang that this was a marriage of three: King Oscaro, Ivi, and Ayortha. The maiden who married the king also married the kingdom, and the kingdom married her.
    Sir Uellu likened king, queen, and country to the Three Tree, which grew only in Ayortha. The Three Tree wasn’t one tree, but three: the white obirko, the red almyna, and the black-barked umbru. Their trunks grew no more than an inch apart, and their roots and branches mingled.
    Sir Uellu began the “Three Tree Song,” also known as the “Song of Ayortha.” Everyone joined in.
    â€œThe wind weaves through you,
    Â Â  My Three Tree.
    Â Â  Your leaves rustle—
    Â Â  Swish,
    Â Â  Whisper,
    Â Â  Sigh.
    â€œEe ooshahsoo ytyty axa ubensu,
    Â Â  Inyi Uhu Ullovu.
    Â Â  Usaru ovro izhathi—
    Â Â  Esnesse,
    Â Â  Ilhi,
    Â Â  Effosse.”
    I’d sung the “Song of Ayortha” hundreds of times, but never with the king. I wanted to remember everything—the smell of the courtiers’ perfume, the king’s joy, the bride’s beauty (and her whisper), the prince’s ears, his dog, the birds trilling, the singing statues.
    â€œThe wind whips through you,
    Â Â  My Three Tree.
    Â Â  Your branches sway—
    Â Â  Whoosh!
    Â Â  Whistle!
    Â Â  Blow!
    â€œEe ooshahsoo ukuptu axa ubensu,
    Â Â  Inyi Uhu Ullovu.
    Â Â  Usaru yvolky ahrha—
    Â Â  Ootsikoo!
    Â Â  Ulhu!
    Â Â  Iitsikii!”
    â€œMy obirko, high and sweet—
    Â Â  Ayortha!
    Â Â  My almyna, mellow and light—
    Â Â  Ayortha!
    Â Â  My umbru, dark and deep—
    Â Â  Ayortha!
    â€œInyi obirko, alara iqui uschu—
    Â Â  Ayortha!
    Â Â  Inyi almyna, odgoo iqui ischi
    Â Â  Ayortha!
    Â Â  Inyi umbru, uscuru iqui ascha
    Â Â  Ayortha!”
    The king sang his Wedding Song, declaring the reasons he loved his bride.
    â€œShe makes me
    Â Â  laugh and cry.
    Â Â  I reflect her glow
    Â Â  and believe that I
    Â Â  am glowing too.
    Â Â  To please her
    Â Â  for a minute
    Â Â  pleases me a week.
    Â Â  She has thunder
    Â Â  and lightning,
    Â Â  rage and joy.
    Â Â  She breathes in
    Â Â  the high notes
    Â Â  and exhales
    Â Â  the low.
    Â Â  She wakes me up
    Â Â  and makes me sing.”
    Ivi smiled. She touched her throat and was silent.
    After the ceremony, the duchess and I joined a receiving line in the corridor outside the Hall of Song. Perhaps fifty people were ahead of us. The line started to move. The duchess stepped forward. I hung back.
    â€œAza!”
    Feeling rising panic, I moved up. I shielded my face with my hand. I hadn’t expected to meet the king and the queen and the prince. If I’d known, I’d have thrown myself out of the coach on the way here.
    Peeking between my fingers, I saw Prince Ijori, with Oochoo at his feet, greet the guests and announce their names. The duchess and I moved up again. I tried to reason myself out of my fear. Everyone would be polite. The king and queen would be too caught up with each