"They coiffed the poor girl for her wedding day;
a ribbon, long braids to hang each side of her face.
But there by the altar she saw her father standing
grief-stricken, and near him acolytes hiding knives,
and people staring at her with tear-stained faces.
Voiceless with terror she crumpled to her knees.
Poor thing, no help to her in such an hour
that she’d been first to call the king “my father."