Marcello hastened her way out of the little house, and walked to the back, dropping onto the ground, her skirts belling up as she did. She shut her eyes tight and put her head in her hands.

Before the door could shut behind Marcello, Niabheara pushed her way out and into the yard. But for the utter lack of tears, she looked as if she had come looking for a private place to cry. She crouched down beside Marcello with her hand resting lgently on the other girl's shoulder. "Well, I know what's upsetting me," she said, trying to be light about it. "Is it the same that's upsetting you?"

Marcello collapsed into Niabheara's lap. "I can't cry," she said miserably. "I hate being one of you. How do you do it, not being able to let all the...let it all come out?"

Niabheara looked taken aback by the sudden slap at her own people. She stroked Marcello's back while she tried to come up with something to say. "I suppose it doesn't hurt the same when you've ne'er had it." Then she rubbed her throat.

"It's like everything is right here," Marcello said, pressing her fingers to her cheeks, "and I can't make it go away. And I'm too [i}small[/i]," she said, helplessly. "I can't lift things I'm used to."

Niabheara gathered Marcello up in her arms and rocked gently back and forth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It'll be set right. For now we just have to muddle through it." She turned her loose and added, "If you need a good scream, here's the place for it."

Marcello shook her head, miserable. "Why isn't she happy?" she asked. "Why can't she even-- what does she mean, she feels like we took advantage? I-- she's never suggested we'd be anything but welcome here, or I wouldn't have come."

"I don't know." She bowed her head, shaking it back and forth. "I've got this sinking feeling I'm going to get a talking-to, later." She laughed to herself. "Which . . . gods, but that sounds so childish; of all the things that have happened of late I'm scared sick of getting a talking-to . . . " Her voice broke off again, and she had to clear her throat to continue. "I don't think Morgana understands just what she is to me. She almost ne'er gets upset with anyone, but when it happens . . . you've met Father. You've met Judith. Morgana's the only real family I have. If she e'er decides to cut me off, I've no one."

She gave Marcello a fierce look. "And don't you dare, don't you dare tell her I said any of that, I know it's stupid, I know she ne'er would."

Marcello reached up and hugged her. "She wouldn't," she said. "But she damn well might get a talking-to from me before she has a chance to give you one. She hasn't seen you in months. You're getting married. What the hell is wrong with her?"

"I hoped she's only upset about Dierdre. They're talking yet. Did you . . . did you tell her before you left that you were going to ask me to marry you, or did you only decide when we saw each other again?"