Astra Runs Out of Inspiration 994 Nights Short of Scheherazade's All-Comers' Record

Astra racked her brains. As she had feared would happen sooner or later, she seemed to have run out of inspiration. And the night was still young. How was she going to keep on stalling Gilder, who was bound to repeat his proposal of marriage before very long? She could simply refuse him, of course, but she did not think that the Governor was a man who would take that very well. Completely in his power as she was, she feared what the consequences of turning him down might be.

"Have you had long enough to think about your answer yet, fair lady Astra?" Gilder asked, apparently having remembered why he had visited her. "Will you be my bride?"

Astra decided to try a different tack. "Have you considered the difference in our stations, Governor Gilder?" she asked. "Remember that until a few days ago I was a mere serving wench to Lord Fred, effectively a slave. What would your family, your soldiers, the people of Corona whom you govern with your firm but fair hand, what would they all say if you were to marry a poor servant girl? And besides, don't forget that Lord Fred told you that I'm disease-ridden. You'd be taking a grave risk if you were to consummate the marriage."

1. When Governor Gilder had set his mind on a course of action, he tended to ignore inconvenient facts. (Not that they were facts, but he wasn't to know that.)
2. At last Astra had managed to "push the right buttons". A strange look came over Gilder's face as he engaged in an unfamiliar activity: thought.
3. Meanwhile, we return to Fred.

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