at him.
“What?”
He took her face in his hands, kissed her once more, very briefly, then looked at her grimly. “A new thought has occurred to me.”
“Which one?”
“The one that suggests that if I don’t present myself to one of your relatives with a list of good reasons why they should allow me to have you, I may find myself languishing in some forgotten ditch in the wilds of Cothromaiche.”
“And just who would you ask?” she asked faintly.
“Franciscus seems a likely suspect.”
“It might take a bit to find him.”
“Which is why I think spending most of my time kissing you until I do find him is an extraordinarily unwise thing to do. Unless you want to wed me today and face his wrath later.”
She sighed, then pulled out of his arms. “Very well. Comrades in arms until Franciscus is found.”
His mouth fell open. “Well, I didn’t mean to go that far.”
“I’m saving you from yourself. And me from myself,” she muttered, turning to put her book back in her pack. She slung it over her shoulder, then looked at him. “Well?”
He took the two steps toward her, then pulled her back into his arms and kissed her rather thoroughly, all things considered.
“You can’t do that anymore,” she said faintly when he lifted his head.
He laughed uneasily. “I fear I must agree, though ’tis most unwillingly done.”
She blinked. “Wed?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Is that a formal proposal?”
“Not in a stable, it isn’t.” He brushed his hand over her hair. “I was in earnest about the other. I must—willingly, I might add—accord Franciscus the respect due him by making a formal request. And I will honor you with the same after the fact.”
“I told you he wasn’t a black mage.”
“Aye, you were right,” he agreed cheerfully. “Let’s go find that hot fire. I have the uncomfortable feeling we’ll have company in that. I left the charming king of Neroche waiting for us at the pub door, because apparently he thinks we are too feeble to get ourselves back to safety.”
“Perhaps he intends to be a chaperon.”
“I have more self-control than that,” Ruith muttered under his breath. “And he damned well better behave himself with my sister, or he’ll answer to me.”
She smiled and walked with him to the door of the tavern where they did indeed find the king of Neroche, slouching negligently against the wall, watching them silently.
Ruith stopped in front of him. “Well?”
“Just waiting,” Miach said easily. “To show you where your grandfather is sleeping off his stormy voyage.”
Ruith looked at Sarah. “Shall we go up?”
“I haven’t anything to fear,” she said firmly. “We aren’t, well, it isn’t as if you have formally suggested, or implied, or—”
Ruith held up one finger, then turned to Miach. “Would you excuse us?”
Miach held up his hands and turned to go inside. “Far be it from me to interfere in the romantic stylings of an elven prince and his future dreamweaving bride. I’ll wait for you inside.”
Sarah found her arms full of that elven prince and herself quite thoroughly attended to. She felt a little faint after the fact, truth be told, but perhaps that had been his intention.
“Implied, suggested, and deferred for grandfatherly permission,” he said briskly. “Understood?”
She found it in her to glare at him. “And where is romance in all that?”
He laughed a little and hugged her so quickly, she squeaked. “Deferred as well, in favor of good sense. Or until my grandfather falls back asleep.”
“Ruith—”
He laughed at her again, took her by the hand, and pulled her along with him into the inn. He didn’t seem overly terrified at the thought of seeing his grandfather, but she couldn’t say she felt the same way. She allowed him to pull her along after him until they reached the steps that apparently led to chambers on the upper floor.
“Ruith?”
He looked at her with a smile. “Aye, my love?”
“Are you sure?”
He looked at her, puzzled, for a moment, then apparently he realized what she was asking. “How can you ask?”
“Because when a gel wants something very badly, she tends to want to avoid breaking her heart over the false hope of having it.”
His breath caught. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was blinking rapidly from something besides the smoke in the passageway.
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “This is the only thing about this entire nightmare that frightens me to the core,” he murmured against her ear. “Losing you, that is.”
“I feel the same way.”
He pulled back, kissed