"That is not the way of friends and allies." Efrin bowed to Glyssani and took a step back, turning to face Pirkin, whose face grew more strained with every heartbeat that passed. "I value Prince Pirkin ny Pyris highly, as a Valor, as a friend to my daughters, as an ally, for his father's sake, and for the sake of his grandfather, who has sacrificed so much for our entire World."
Mrillis ached, one sharp stab, when Pirkin's face went pale and his grandson twitched, visibly fighting not to look at him.
"For Lord Pirkin's sake, I wish his marriage to begin with your blessing, willingly and graciously given, and not coerced because you feel some small debt to me and mine."
"Coerced? Small debt?" She burst out laughing, a hearty sound that chimed off the beams of the high ceiling and warmed that cold spot that had settled around Mrillis' heart just a moment ago. "My Lord Warhawk... I do swear, I would gladly give you anything you ask for, no matter how small or large. Yes, gladly, I give my permission and my blessing to Ynessa and Pirkin. May they find their greatest happiness in each other." She caught her breath. "And may their good fortune spill over to bless all of us here today."
She is entirely lost, Meghianna observed, resting her hand on Mrillis' on the table to enhance their link, so he could feel her satisfaction. Thank the Estall, she feels the same about him as he does about her. May it be strong enough to last them however long they must wait to be together.
* * * *
Mrillis considered making excuses and leaving Moerta as soon as possible, but he had enough doubts about his feelings and reasons to make him hesitate. Did he want to leave before the arrangements were made for Ynessa and Pirkin's wedding festivities, so no one felt obligated to invite him? Did he fear meeting with Pyris after all these years, and learning just how far the bitter influence of his Noveni relatives had pushed him? Did he feel hurt by Pirkin's slight reaction to Efrin's praise and mention of him, so he wanted to run away and lick his wounds like a spoiled child deprived of a toy?
Meghianna stopped him. She asked him to ride with her while she finished this harvesting journey, even though her reasons for coming to Moerta had originally been a ruse. She asked him to share with her his memories of those early years, when he and Ceera and the original forgers of the Zygradon had walked in ignorance and faith and risked everything to protect the World. So Mrillis stayed, relieved to ride away with just Meghianna and her original four Valor guards, to gather and purify raw star-metal, and to remember. It surprised him to realize that the memories no longer ached. Even the mundane, sometimes tedious, routine of the harvesting held sweetness.
He took to calling up memories and displaying them in the light of sunset and the settling dust of the day, as their traveling party made camp. Mrillis found he enjoyed making his memories visible so others could share them. He could sometimes give himself the gift of illusion, just for a few minutes at a time, that Ceera and Emrillian were right there in front of him, laughing and chatting together, making camp, playing games with stones and strings. He had called up a memory of the very last harvest they shared as a family, just before Emrillian married Pyris, the evening Pirkin came to join them at their camp.
The young Valor rode up to their camp in silence.
The effort of calling up the memory and casting the spell that would let the events play out in soft colors and silence distracted Mrillis enough that he didn't realize his grandson stood on the edge of the camp. He sensed a new presence, but chose not to look away as he watched Emrillian dance around the fire, trailing streamers of multicolored light from her fingertips while Ceera played her flute. It was made of crystal and star-metal--he had forgotten that detail for so many years--and produced light as well as music as it was played. The song ended, the spill of birds and sparkles and flowers from the flute died away, and Emrillian went to her knees, laughing and flushed and breathless.
"Can you make her speak?" Pirkin asked, his voice rough. He stared at the illusion of Emrillian as it faded away into shadows and firelight. The aching hunger grew visible in his face as the gleam of tears filled his eyes.
"She speaks in your heart, if you're willing to listen," Mrillis said after a long, strained moment, when he could barely draw a breath, let along force words out.
"Why didn't you fight for me?"
He flinched when Meghianna got up from her place on a log pulled up by the fire, and gestured for the other Valors to follow her. "Fight to take you from your father, you mean? Or fight to come visit Goarlotte as an unwelcome, uncomfortable guest for a few days at a time each year?"
"I don't know." Pirkin cursed and kicked at a piece of firewood and stomped away a few steps. "I know you said he loved her, but how could he completely cut off all memory of her like he did?"
"How do you know he did? Just because he doesn't speak of her--most likely out of respect for your stepmother--doesn't mean Pyris has forgotten your mother." Mrillis settled on the log seat Meghianna had vacated, and when he gestured for Pirkin to join him, his grandson did so without hesitation.
"What if I had fought to possess you? What good would it have done us? The Warhawk throne was unsteady at that point, and the Encindi threat had doubled, tripled, encouraged by the wholesale slaughter of Athrar's family. I found healing in fighting. Escape, too. When you work hard all day so you drop into your blankets as if dead every night, you don't remember your dreams.
"I needed to be busy. And that would have meant rarely being home to see you. Would you have wanted me to leave you with nursemaids and servants for moons at a time, just so I could say I owned you? Your father was like a son to me, for as long as he wanted to be. He made my daughter happy. For that alone, I couldn't hurt him."
"No matter how much he hurt you," Pirkin whispered, his voice a rasp.
"It is over and done. We must go forward, rather than stand still, wasting energy and joy by constantly looking over our shoulders." Mrillis snorted. "That's something your mother and grandmother both believed in. I would be happy to be your friend. And perhaps you will allow me to spoil your sons, as I wasn't allowed to spoil you," he added with a shrug, a chuckle making his voice thick.
"Sons." Pirkin flushed and finally took his gaze off the spot where Emrillian had faded from sight. "That's why I came. Ynessa says I was rude, not inviting you to stay with us. Not inviting you to stay until the wedding."
"Your father wouldn't be comfortable with me in the castle."
"It's a big castle, and it's my wedding, not his." He pushed himself to his feet with a soft groan. "Can you look ahead? Can you see that we'll be happy?"
"Meghianna..." Mrillis sighed. "Meghianna has seen you with several sons, one grown, the others nearly there, and a girlchild in Ynessa's arms. There is a light around your daughter, a sign of great potential and destiny. That is all either of us has seen, but I believe it is a promise of many happy years together."
"Will any of them have imbrose? More than just enough imbrose to be Valors?"
"The blood of the strongest enchanters in the World runs in your veins. Who knows what gifts your children will be born with?"
"I don't want it." The usual vehemence of his rejection of his magical heritage was missing from Pirkin's voice, and Mrillis took comfort from that.
"You have made that clear. Your willpower is a strong force. Strong enough to shackle your inborn magical gifts as securely as the spells that bind the imbrose of others, to protect the world from harm."
Mrillis caught his breath as the image Meghianna had shared with him, of Pirkin's future family, filled his mind. The girl baby slipped from Ynessa's arms and walked toward him, growing taller and older with every step until she was a woman grown, with Ceera's perfectly straight hair, white gold, and soft green eyes, her beauty almost painful. She held out her hands to Mrillis, and there in her joined hands lay a doll. It opened its eyes and sat up and smiled at Mrillis, and the doll was his Emrillian, just on the verge of adulthood.
He remembered Trevissa's words, about Emrillian being reborn, returning to him, and he thought his heart would burst with the pain of the hope.
"Sons, and a baby daughter," Pirkin said, totally unaware of the vision that froze Mrillis, to the point he had forgotten to breathe. The young Valor nodded, a smile driving away the stiffness, warming his eyes. "Grown sons. That means many years. Thank you...Grandfather."
Mrillis sat alone by the fire long after the sound of Pirkin's horse's hooves faded into the forest. He was vaguely aware of the fire needing wood, and the pot of stew bubbling a little too rapidly over the coals, but he couldn't make himself move. The sound of Pirkin's voice, calling him Grandfather for the first time, remained in the camp clearing, as fragile as a glass bubble.
Meghianna returned to the camp first. She sat on the log next to him and took his hand. She touched his cheek, and he realized when he saw the glistening dampness on her fingertips that he wept.
* * * *
If Queen Glyssani danced more than expected at Ynessa and Pirkin's wedding festivities, those who noticed reasoned that she still celebrated her rescue from Timark. The only ones who complained that she danced with no one but Efrin Warhawk were older nobles, kings of much smaller kingdoms, who hoped to court her. Anyone who listened to them discounted their remarks as the peevish complaints of men who didn't know what no meant, and refused to admit they had no hope of winning the still-vibrant, beautiful queen as their bride.
Meghianna was dismayed to realize that her sister's popularity with the nobles of Moerta irritated her. As Mrillis had warned her years ago, when the sisters first met, jealousy was an ugly plant that grew when it was least expected. She fought to be glad that her sister's wishes for a splendid courtship seemed to be coming true. To fight down the unanswered hope for a sweetheart of her own, she spent as much time as she could in exploring the countryside around Goarlotte, and monopolizing as much of Mrillis' time as she could. Anyone who compared her with Megassa would reason that no hopeful suitor could approach her if she was never available. It was easier to blame Mrillis' legendary stature for discouraging potential sweethearts than to acknowledge that the stories of her strength and skills in magic made otherwise sensible men fear her.
"Better for them to fear you," her father said, when she finally confided her heartache to him, "than for them to see you as a prize to win or a tool to manipulate." They stayed in Welcairn Castle, ostensibly to assist with settling a last few matters for Prince Markas and his mother and the rearranged governing council, before returning to Lygroes.
"Papa? Is that what you fear for Megassa?"
"She has no hope of sitting on my throne, no matter how fine a warrior she is, no matter how well she leads the warriors assigned to her command. The Council of Lords will never accept her, but if she married a powerful man, her children would be counted as legitimate heirs to the Warhawk throne." Efrin stared off into the distance from the tower guest room window. Meghianna wondered if he watched for Glyssani to return from some errand that had taken her from the castle today, or if he saw into another place and time, either memories or dreams.
"Do you fear what will happen to her many sweethearts if you produce a legitimate heir and crush all their plans and dreams?"
Efrin startled, nearly dropping the empty metal cup he had been toying with when Meghianna came up to the room to talk with him.
"Or should I say when you produce an heir, Papa?"
"Meggi--"
"I approve. I think Queen Glyssani would take you tomorrow, if she didn't have her vow and her fear for Markas' security to stand in her way."
"You think so?" He grinned like a boy and set the cup down on the sill--missing it so that it fell and rang against the stones of the wall. "Who else has noticed, do you think?"
"Nearly anyone with half a brain. It hasn't taken long for the rest of the world to decide that Timark was in love with her, and took her to the tower because he feared you would steal her from him, by force if necessary. I've already heard one person speculating that you were in the tower half the time, and forced Timark out, and you seduced the lady without her ever guessing that you weren't the man she loved."
"But I am--" He shut his mouth with an audible click of his jaws.
"Yes, Papa, I believe she does love you. Or she will, when she has had enough time to recover from her ordeal and understand what she feels."
Meghianna pushed away the quiet little complaining voice, quite bitterly pointing out that she had come up here for some advice and comfort and sympathy from her father. Once again, she had ended up acting as Queen of Snows, advising the Warhawk, with all her fears and hurts pushed aside for the good of the kingdom. She wanted to tell her father that all would end well, he and Glyssani would be happy together, and they would indeed produce the long-awaited, legitimate heir. She couldn't tell him that. Some of her earliest lessons had been stories of people who interfered with prophecies and visions, either trying to force them to unfold before their time, or prevent them.
As Nalla had counseled her, when she was perhaps ten years old, discovery was half the joy in life. Prophecies and visions had a tendency to take away the surprise and the fun of the journey. Meghianna suspected she would never know the sweetness of courtship and discovering true love, so she refused to take that sweet, sometimes uncertain, tempestuous path away from her father.
* * * *
Megassa kept her many sweethearts dangling, preferring to enjoy a few years of danger and adventure as a traveling Valor. Mrillis watched her weed out the noblemen and warriors who vied for her favor, and wondered if she chose the most dangerous and long-lasting missions specifically to learn just how long a man meant when he vowed to love her forever. She came back from long journeys, browned and lean and sometimes battered, always standing in triumph before the Warhawk's throne to recount her adventures. If she noticed that another suitor or two had given up and married someone else, she gave no sign.
Then again, she developed a habit of spending a large portion of her time in the vicinity of Welcairn. There was a certain young nobleman named Lorkin, a distant relative of Prince Markas, who had expressed interest in the warrior princess. Lorkin had been third in the chain of command at Welcairn Castle when Timark was co-regent, and he had fought long and hard to convince the Council of Lords that he had been as shocked as everyone else to learn of Timark's treachery against Queen Glyssani. Mrillis didn't totally trust Lorkin's vows of loyalty and peace, but the intervening years had given nothing but good evidence that the man was innocent. With the ranks of nobility decimated by Timark's attempt to gain control over the throne, Lorkin's presence was necessary to support Markas, despite the fact that his family had some ancestral territory in the Wayhauk Mountains on Lygroes. Mrillis was torn between approving Lorkin as a match for Megassa, or hoping nothing came of their quiet courtship.
He liked the young lord for his restraint in pursuing the princess. He didn't shower her with gifts and extravagant, public displays of devotion, which set him apart from the other hopeful suitors.
Megassa favored him just for that difference. Lorkin always managed to be present when Megassa returned to the Warhawk's fortress to report on some adventure or tricky mission, and always smugly satisfied when another suitor gave up on waiting for the princess to decide who would win her heart. Because Lorkin did have a legitimate, distant claim to Welcairn's throne, Mrillis didn't want the young man to start thinking about marriage and children, and securing a legacy for those children--such as a kingdom--until Markas was firmly established as Welcairn's king.
The fact that Efrin still did not trust any of Timark's supporters, six years after the siege of Tantagar, didn't seem to discourage Lorkin. Mrillis approved of that strength of character and determination, and the fact that Megassa seemed to be a little more thoughtful after spending time in his company. Lorkin had done something that all the hopeful stepmothers and well-meaning, interfering ladies of the Court hadn't done--made Megassa slow down and think and dress and speak as a princess more often than a warrior. The fact that Gynefra was torn between disgust and approval made Mrillis laugh. She seemed to be the only one who realized what grew between the nobleman and the princess she had helped to raise, and she laughed with Mrillis sometimes over the blindness of everyone else.
Then there was the problem that Lorkin was on the list Efrin had made of ambitious young men who were of the right age and possessed the dangerous combination of noble blood and very little in the way of wealth or territory to call their own. Such ambitious young men would logically try to marry the Warhawk's daughter, and so try to claim the throne for their son as the Warhawk's grandson and heir.
Mrillis watched and waited, and whenever he heard a story about Lorkin, either good or evil, he investigated it. He kept his silence about Megassa's sweetheart, because everything he learned seemed to be good. If Efrin and Meghianna didn't know about Lorkin's claim on her heart, then it couldn't be as serious as it appeared, could it?
The Warhawk's council considered granting Markas his majority and allowing him to take his father's throne early--and then took so long coming to their decision, the young king was nearly twenty when the crown finally sat on his head. No one was surprised when Efrin came to the coronation festivities, spoke privately with the new king and then his mother before the ceremony, and then announced at the feast that Queen Glyssani had agreed to become his wife.
Mrillis was glad for them. The six years between the siege of Tantagar and the fulfillment of Glyssani's vow had been hard on the courting couple. Efrin could only travel to Moerta so many times each year, and each trip required that he spend time with the other minor kings and kingdoms. Glyssani in turn could only come to the Warhawk's Court so many times each year without some critic and busybody--especially noble ladies who still hoped to become the Warhawk's queen--accusing her of neglecting her duties.
In those intervening six years, Mrillis thought he had spent more time with Efrin's ladylove than the king did. He had more reason to visit Moerta in those six years than in the previous twenty, and not just because Meghianna decided to be more directly involved in harvesting star-metal and asked him to accompany her.
It pleased him that he had been invited to the naming ceremony for each of Pirkin and Ynessa's three sons. It saddened him when he was asked to come to the funeral ceremony for Pyris, and to officiate at the crowning of Pirkin as the new king of Goarlotte.
Pyris' widow, Lynzette, refused to speak to him. A rift seemed to develop between Pirkin and his stepmother, making Mrillis suspect she did not approve of the invitation from the new king. Mrillis knew he had no hope of any treaty with the grieving widow, so he didn't let her animosity bother him. He had far too much pleasure in being a doting great-grandfather to Pirkin's sons, and lived up to his promise of spoiling the boys whenever possible. He decided he had known nothing sweeter, for many years, than the squeals of delight when he rode through the castle gates and the little boys dropped everything they were doing to come running to greet him.
Megassa begged for the privilege of acting as her father's representative during the preparations for the wedding ceremony at Welcairn Castle that spring, and Mrillis suspected a certain young nobleman was again in residence, despite the young king no longer needing his kinsman's support.
When Mrillis traveled from Goarlotte with Pirkin and Ynessa, his suspicions were confirmed when Megassa met him at the gates with Markas and Glyssani. She was nearly unrecognizable, in a dark-hued, rich dress that made muted the golden glow from outdoor living, giving her skin the ivory and rose complexion of a sheltered court maiden. Mrillis noted immediately that the king's daughter kept glancing at one particular corner of the courtyard, and when he had a chance to turn and look, found one tall, broad-shouldered nobleman who seemed to see nothing and no one but Megassa.
Mrillis hoped Efrin would be too busy with his upcoming wedding festivities to notice the now-visible bond between his younger daughter and the nobleman. And if he did notice, he would be in too good a mood to object. Remembering how he had felt when Emrillian was old enough to notice boys, Mrillis suspected that there wasn't a single man in all of Lygroes or Moerta whom Efrin would consider good enough for his warrior daughter.
But if he makes Megassa happy, enough that she's willing to wear dresses and paint herself and bathe in perfume, and forget everything she learned as a warrior...
Mrillis sighed as he considered the arguments both for and against the liaison. Should he pray that prolonged time together would dim the glow of their happiness? There was a certain romantic attraction to only being able to be together a few days every moon. Perhaps when they were able to be together every day, for hours at a time, Megassa would realize Lorkin was only a passing fancy. Either she or Lorkin could grow tired of the longing looks and sighs and stolen kisses when there was nothing and no one to separate them. Unfortunately, if that happened, someone's heart would break. Mrillis feared since Megassa didn't give her heart to anyone, let alone lightly, it would most likely be her. And what if it was a deep, true love, a bonding of souls such as Efrin had found with Glyssani?
That's the problem, isn't it? Meghianna said, when Mrillis contacted her through the Threads that night, to see if she had any insight into her sister's infatuation with the nobleman. Papa won't be able to say no, if Lorkin approaches him any time before or after the wedding. Especially if he claims that he and Megassa are each other's completion. She sighed, the sound turning to laughter that tickled through the Threads. Does she look utterly silly, or is she beautiful and content?
I've seen them together twice since we arrived, and I'd have to say there is nothing silly about your sister. Ah, yes, I remember now. She spoke of wanting someone to look silly for her, and you responded with something on the order of Megassa needing to be silly, too, didn't you?
Something like that, but later, I think. No, I think I shall be happy for her. Do you think I should prepare Papa?
I really think you should. There's nothing worse than a king looking like a fish on dry ground, gaping and stammering, when he is the center of attention as the bridegroom. Mrillis smiled and the sound of Meghianna's laughter stayed with him long after their connection severed.
Efrin Warhawk was prepared, to the point of calling Lorkin to his quarters only a few hours after arriving at Welcairn Castle. He summoned his younger daughter as well, so she arrived only minutes after Lorkin had bowed and greeted the Warhawk, and before anything could be said on either side.
Mrillis and Meghianna exchanged glances of anticipation. Efrin had not shared with either one what he had thought about or decided after his elder daughter revealed what Mrillis had seen.
"Papa? You wanted to see me?" Megassa sailed into the room, so light on her feet she nearly floated.
Mrillis expected to see sparks dancing on the ends of her braids, or for the flowers braided into her hair to put forth new leaves and blossoms. Meghianna had already remarked on her sister needing some new lessons on controlling her imbrose, because her giddy, overflowing emotions caused magic to leak out of her everywhere. The effect was pleasant, energizing, and tended to add subtly to the festive atmosphere of the castle.
Then Megassa saw Lorkin standing in front of the long table Efrin had appropriated as his worktable, already filled with documents and scrolls and tablets and courier pouches. She stopped short and her eyes widened. Her head turned sharply to stare at Mrillis, pleading and accusations mixed in her eyes. It pleased him that she was aware enough to realize exactly who had noticed her relationship with Lorkin and reported it to her father.
"Majesty." Lorkin bowed his dark golden head, amusement brightening his eyes. "It seems we are caught out."
"Exactly what you are caught in, and how serious it is, that is what I want to know," Efrin said. His eyes narrowed a little, as if he didn't like how lightly Lorkin took the situation.
"Papa, I don't care what you think--" Megassa began.
"No, I don't suppose you do, Megs." He smiled and held out a hand when his use of her pet name noticeably cooled the growing temper on her face. "What I want to be sure of is what you two think, how you feel." He sighed and nodded, pleased, when she settled onto the stool pulled up to the end of the table, so she sat at his right hand. "I hope I'm not rushing things to say I pray the two of you will be as happy as I intend to be with Glyssani."
"Papa!" She burst out laughing and leaped up from the stool, nearly sprawling across the corner of the table to wrap her arms around him.
"You look stunned, Lord Lorkin," Meghianna said. She left the far side of the room where she had waited with Mrillis, and sat down on the stool on the left end of the table. "Is there a problem?"
"Lady." He bowed to her, barely glancing her way, as he watched Megassa kiss both her father's cheeks before settling down on her stool again. "I'd be a fool to hope I would have the unconditional blessing of the Warhawk. I know my history isn't good, and there are far more worthy men who would give their ancestral estates and all their imbrose for a chance to court Princess Megassa."
Mrillis gave Lorkin good marks for honesty and bravery, but he wasn't sure if all that humility was entirely genuine. He decided to stay discretely in the half-shadows on the far side of the room. This was more a family matter than a kingdom matter, though he didn't doubt many would consider Megassa's marriage a kingdom matter.
"Worthiness in the eyes of a father differs from the worthiness I see as Warhawk," Efrin said. "You've proven yourself loyal, to me and to Glyssani and King Markas. It was hard to believe that Timark had fooled you, that you believed his lies, simply because you are known as a discerning man who believes in the long view. However, we all make mistakes. Speaking as a father, I have to warn you to make no mistakes when it comes to my daughter's heart."
"She has cast a spell on me, Majesty, and put me through a thousand small deaths, making me wait," Lorkin said, shaky laughter in his voice. "I've barely noticed other women existed, since the day she rode into Welcairn Castle almost six years ago."
"And for a long time, I pretended I didn't know he existed," Megassa said, an uncharacteristic giggle nearly muffling her last few words. "At first, it was because I knew you wouldn't approve, Papa. Then I decided I liked him, and I wanted to make sure he wasn't playing games with me. Then... Well, I think he cast a spell on me, too."
"No, my sweet." Lorkin caught hold of her hand and kissed her fingertips, making her blush dark red. "Everyone will testify I have no imbrose, and star-metal is dead when I touch it." He shrugged. "That's partly why Timark trusted me so thoroughly, and I must admit, partly why I followed him. Jealousy, now that I look back and think on what I did."
"What are your plans for each other?" Efrin said.
Lorkin turned Megassa's hand over, to kiss her palm, then released her to step back, bowed deeply to Efrin, and withdrew two ornate bracelets of woven gold and silver, set with emeralds and sapphires. Meghianna gasped aloud and flinched. From where he stood, Mrillis couldn't see her face, but he suspected she felt a moment of hurt, envy, before she leaped from her stool to fly to her sister's side and embrace her, laughing.
"With your permission, Efrin Warhawk?" Lorkin bowed deeply again.
"Do you promise to make her happy, to put her safety and joy and dreams ahead of your own?" Efrin asked, his voice strained.
"I do swear before the Estall, on my very soul, on the bedrock where my ancestral estate stands in the Wayhauk Mountains. I will put Princess Megassa's life and my love for her even above my vows to the Warhawk's throne. I will swear it on Braenlicach, if you require."
Very impressive, Meghianna remarked, glancing across the room to meet Mrillis' gaze. Did you notice where his ancestral estate is? On Lygroes, not Moerta. And in territory that is more and more Encindi land and held by malcontents and rebels.
Maybe that's what attracted Megassa to him, Mrillis offered. She loves a good fight and vicious challenge. They'll have to fight someone for many years. Nothing like a common cause to forge two souls into one, he added, as she muffled laughter by hugging her sister again.
"All very well and good, Lord Lorkin," Efrin said, standing. He braced his hands on the table. "Megassa, the choice is yours. I give Lord Lorkin permission to ask you to marry him, but I will not give you to him unless you wish it."
"Thank you, Papa." Megassa blinked back tears. "You have no idea how afraid I was sometimes, that you'd have to use me in some ridiculous political marriage. Every time one of those Noveni pureblood idiots approached you the last few years, I was sure one of them would suggest it."
"They did, but that's as far as it got," Efrin admitted, shrugging. "You haven't answered us. Will you take him?"
Blushing, Megassa choked and couldn't force the words out, so she settled for nodding. Lorkin let out a bark of laughter and tossed the betrothal bands on the table, to wrap his arms around her and spin her around twice, kissing her soundly the entire time.
Will there ever be someone for me? Meghianna wondered, and the wistfulness of her tone, so soft, made Mrillis sure she hadn't intended anyone to hear her thoughts.