Over the candlelight he watched her flickering green-gray eyes as they took in his eyes of shimmering black/blue. The slightest of feathery airs set a-tremble a slender gold lock on her forehead and a thicker black one on his. With his right hand he solemnly raised a narrow curving glass of golden liquid above the flame and softly said, “To you, your Majesty, most beautiful Queen of the Kingdom of my supreme love and unquenchable admiration.”

She, too, slowly and steadily raised her glass, her fingers glowing gold, and said, “To you, my prince, my hero, my most high King, my one life’s Lover forever.”

Then their two glasses ever so lightly touched with a silent “ting” that echoed in their minds like an undying song, and they slowly drank, holding the taking glory of each other’s eyes.

This was not the beginning of their love, but a symbol of its consummation, which was yet to come. This was not the beginning of their lives together, but the first expressed triumph of their dreams made real. This was what it was to be truly born again, as integrity met and mingled with integrity—born again in the lifted continuity of their love-of-life, in a re-charging of the batteries of their individualized endeavors, of their selfish aims and achievements. It was the religion of “we” as it can only truly be realized—in the worship of one for one other, and of that other for that one.

From across the way, through the open window, came the sweet sound of a violin as a neighbor was playing a Viennese waltz. The King rose and said, “Let us dance.” Across the room they slowly whirled, then spun out on to the wide balcony. The full moon shone, the whole city glowed, and their faces reflected their faces.

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