Marcello was silent again. "i think Cnoch-na-Niall might be better for Maalech," he said hesitantly. "But I wouldn't ask you to take him alone." He gnashed his teeth. "I don't want to do this," he said. "I want to take you in my arms and promise you it will all work out and it's all forgotten and hold you close forever. But I'm afraid that if we don't try to hash things out, we'll just bury it deep and never fix it and it will fester and ache worse and worse and split us apart in the end."

"An I thought this could be solved so easy, I'd let you do it," she said, still not looking at him. "I wanted you to come back with me. All this while . . . and then on the verge of it, I wrecked it. I have to figure this out alone, or it will go on happening."

Marcello nodded, considering. "I don't think we can fix it so quickly," he agreed. "But I think we can start. As long as I know that you want to fix it?" he asked her hesitantly. "If you don't want to fix it, that's another story entirely. But I-- are you going to be able to manage everything?" he asked. "If I go with Meg? I know there's a lot of work to be done."

"It shouldn't be so bad as it's been the past two years. I will only need to see exactly what needs doing." Her smile was a little wobbly, but at least it was there. "It would seem we have gone back to the beginning of the story."

Marcello smiled wistfully at her. "Is this what happened in the beginning?" he asked. "I remember being your prisoner and getting threatened with the cheeseroom and wanting to touch your long, long hair even when it was slicked with horse spit."

She reached up and touched her hair, barely aware that she was doing it. "I remember being afraid that I might have to shut you in the cheeseroom if only so you wouldn't see the rest of the place and think the Admiral had turned you loose amongst paupers." Her mouth trembled. "Please come back," she said. "E'en if it's only to say me goodbye. Come back."

Marcello nodded. "Send word to Meg when you have made up your mind one way or the other, and I will," he answered. And then he grimaced. "But when you send word, I want you to have decided. Whether you are willing or unwilling to entertain the thought of raising a family with me. Of marrying me," he added. "If you can't abide the idea of it, then one of us will never be happy."

She raked her teeth lightly over her lip, then nodded. "You will be all right with Meg?"

Marcello looked at her for a long moment. "Meg is like family to me," he answered. "It's the second-best place I can be."

"Ebhot is little, and probably much quieter than you're used to," she said. "I know they'll look after you." She rubbed at her torc. "I won't make you wait. I'll send word as soon as . . . you know."