Regis had once promised himself that he would not marry, would not share his Domain with any woman with whom he was not also content to share his life. This woman now bore his son.

He had been a fool to let her go. This time, he would make sure it turned out differently.

Regis rose early the next morning and found himself whistling under his breath as he broke his fast. The meal was a round, crusty nut-bread, pots of jams and preserves, a platter of browned, steaming sausages, and bowls of pickled redroot.

Danilo had already gone down to the stables, preparing for their departure. He had been asleep when Regis returned in the early hours, so Regis had not had the chance to tell him that he had a private matter to discuss with Linnea. After last night, Regis had no doubt that she would understand his intentions in only a few words. He must return to Thendara, but she and Kierestelli would follow as soon as arrangements could be made.

In times gone by, they would have had to obtain permission to marry from the Comyn Council. Now, with the Council disbanded, that was not possible, but Danvan Hastur must be consulted. The old man would doubtless be delighted. The ceremony itself should take place in the Crystal Chamber of Comyn Castle with as many dignitaries and Comyn as could be assembled.

Regis paused in adjusting folds of his short indoor cloak. In all likelihood, the wedding itself could not be arranged sooner than Midsummer, but that was all for the best, for many of the remaining Comyn still came to Thendara during that time.

Still whistling, he sent a servant ahead to ask Linnea to receive him. After waiting what seemed an appropriate time for the lady to prepare herself, he made his way to her suite of rooms. The same maidservant from last night ushered him inside. Linnea wore a gown of gray that shimmered a little like moonlight. She looked up from the little table on which sat a tray bearing a pitcher of the usual jacoand a basket of plain brown bread. She came toward him, her expression puzzled.

Regis took her hand in his and drew her to sit beside the fire.

“Linnea,” he began, “we have known one another for a number of years.”

She stiffened then, perhaps at his formality or the prospect of unpleasant news. He winced, fearing that he had inadvertently offended her.

“As you know, my grandfather has pressured me to marry for a long time. Until now, I could not bring myself to do so. It has also been suggested that I choose an official consort for ceremonial occasions—”

Linnea did not move. Her skin turned very pale. Her breathing became slow and shallow.

“I want to be frank with you, Linnea. I have not—in the past, I have not had the deepest feelings for women.” He swallowed hard. “You know that since boyhood, I have been committed to Danilo.”

“I doubt there is a single Comyn in the Seven Domains who is not aware of your preference.” Under the calmness of her voice, she gave no hint of her feelings.

“Be that as it may,” Regis cleared his throat, “for the sake of my Domain and the necessities of my position, I must have a legitimate heir of my own body.”

. . . the son we conceived last night . . .

“You already have an heir,” she pointed out.

“My sister’s son, Mikhail, yes. But that was an extraordinary circumstance. I thought I might not return from Caer Donn. If anything happened to Mikhail, I could not ask Javanne again—it would be better if . . .”

Linnea turned away. She kept silent for a long moment, leaving Regis hanging in a hellish backwash of uncertainty. Then she said, very quietly, “I am aware of the great honor you do me, Regis. I am grateful for your honesty.”

She paused, visibly gathering herself. “As you say, we have known each other for some years now. I think we have been as good friends as a man—particularly a lover of men—can ever be with a woman. But I do not believe . . .” Her voice faltered and grew rough. “. . . that I would care to . . . to be a ceremonial consort . . .”

“I asked you to be my wife!”

“Wife, consort, barragana! It is all the same!” she shot back at him. “It would mean binding myself to someone who does not want me,only a woman—any well-born one will do!—to fill a position!”

Regis stared at her in dismay. Never had he thought to see the usually calm and self-possessed Comynara in such a state.

“That’s not what I meant,” he stammered.

“I understand you all too well! You come all the way from Thendara, flouting your position and your wealth. No ordinary Darkovan, even a Comyn lord, could command a Terran aircar. You offer me the one thing I cannot refuse, the one thing you knew I could not turn away from, and that is the means to work, to use the skills for which I trained so hard, and still be a mother to Kierestelli.”

Training Felix to use his laran!In the frenzy of the moment, Regis had all but forgotten that request. Obviously, Linnea had not.

“And then you come to me, all romantic. You ply me with memories of the dreams I—we once had. You play with our daughter, you give me hope that we could be together as a family. You kiss me and hold me as if I were the most precious—”

She broke off. Every fiber in her slender body quivered in outrage. He realized the depth of her sense of betrayal. Had she thought he had given himself entirely to her? Had he created that impression?

Had he not been in love with her last night? What kind of inconstant villain was he?

Between one heartbeat and the next, Regis realized that, as a Keeper, Linnea must have been well aware of her own fertility. She had deliberately allowed herself to conceive—she had chosen—b ecause she believed so fully in his love for her. His mind had been open to hers, as hers to his. How could they have come to such a misunderstanding?

“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered. “I h- had no idea you would find my proposal so distressing.”

His stilted words only made matters worse. What little experience he had with women failed him now. He blundered on.

“You see, I thought that since we were friends, it would be all right.” Trying to keep the rising panic from his voice, he reached out to lay his fingertips lightly on her wrist. She jerked away. “If I must have a wife, surely it should be someone I care for, rather than a stranger.”

“A stranger!” Her eyes brimmed with hot, angry tears. “So now I am little better than a stranger?”

“I do care for you, Linnea. I give you my word, the word of a Hastur, that no other woman has ever meant as much to me. Or ever will.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” she raged. “Can’t you see that only makes things worse?”

“Linnea, what is wrong? I don’t understand why you are so upset. You’ve always been so calm, so—”

“So in control of myself? I am—I wasa Keeper and celibate. Why do you think I must choose between that work and sexual intimacy?” Wringing her hands, she surged to her feet and began to pace while Regis watched, helpless and aghast. “Regis, I know I’m overly emotional. I knowI’m being unfair to you. But that doesn’t mean I am not also telling the truth. It’s not just that we made love last night, it’s that we made love.I didn’t justhave sex with you.”

She was right. Their union had been more, not just the pleasure of the body, but a joining of their hearts and psychic energy. And more . . . If he closed his eyes, he could still see the tiny glowing point of new life. No wonder she was reactive, brittle, with nothing left for dealing with the troubles of ordinary life, let alone a proposal of marriage.

“Please,” he pleaded, “sit down. I spoke clumsily, but I meant well. The situation cannot be that bad.”