*
Lucy watched Iestyn stride down the hil with the quick impatience of the boy she once knew.
But he wasn’t a boy any longer.
She sighed, remembering. Iestyn had been her first friend on Sanctuary, a gawky adolescent with a kind heart and a flashing smile. Seeing him al grown up made her feel . . .
old.
She listened to the ocean’s long-drawn-out lament, the cries of the seabirds drifting over the water like the voices of lost children.
“You are disappointed,” Conn said quietly.
She turned her head to find him watching her, his silver eyes impenetrable.
F o r g o t t e n s e a 27 1
She didn’t understand. “Disappointed?”
“That he is not returning with us to Sanctuary.”
She shook her head. “No.” She roused herself to give a better answer. Conn was forcing himself out of his customary reserve to communicate. To talk about her
“I was just thinking how much he’s changed. Iestyn.”
“He is older.”
She attempted a smile. “Aren’t we al .”
“Not you.”
The magic of Sanctuary kept her from aging. In physical years, she was probably younger than Iestyn now.
Her throat tightened. “I feel about a hundred.”
“You are as fresh and young as spring,” Conn said.
“And more beautiful than the day I met you.”
“Oh.” He took her breath away. Tears wel ed in her eyes.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“Women need words, Morgan tel s me. And it gives me pleasure to say them.”
He knelt before her on the grass.
“Conn.” She was shaken. Embarrassed. He was a proud man. Prince of the merfolk, lord of the sea. And at any moment, anyone could look over and see him kneeling at her feet. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done long ago.” He took her hands. Her fingers trembled in his strong clasp. “Lucy, my love. My heart. Wil you marry me?”
The earth whirled and settled around them. She swal owed the ache in her heart, the lump in her throat. One of them had to be practical. They had duties. Obligations.
“What if I can never give you children? You need an heir.”
“I need you. I wil always need you.” He looked up at her, his silver eyes blazing. “Recommit to me, Lucy. Here, 2 7 2
V i r g i n i a K a n t r a
in a church, in the sight of God, according to the custom of your people. Take me as your husband. Wil you?”
Her tears washed her grief away. She forgot pride and obligation, forgot whoever might be watching. Al she could see was Conn’s eyes, Conn’s face, ful of heat and love and tenderness.
She felt an overwhelming rush of love for him.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, please, I wil .”
He rose to his feet and pul ed her into his arms, kissing her fiercely. The sun sank to the surface of the sea, trailing banners of scarlet and gold.
*
*
*
A fist closed in Lara’s chest. She didn’t trust Zayin, not for a moment. But she couldn’t bring herself to believe that the Master Guardian would actual y hurt her. She edged backward toward the door, feeling with her foot for the threshold, keeping her eyes on him.
“Please.” Zayin sounded more derisive than angry.
“Don’t put me to the trouble of coming after you.”
“What do you want?” she asked.
“We’ve been worried about you,” Zayin said. “Simon in particular.”
