"In the summer," Marcello agreed. "We can do that. Of course we can."

He kissed her cheek.

'I never new Bride, but I am sure Tristan would be grateful for it."

"Lady Bride was lovely. She was a lot like Meg. They were like sisters growing up, Meg says." She went quiet again. "I was afraid you would think it was silly."

Marcello shook his head. "Of course not," he replied. "I have two little sisters who died, remember? I think...children belong with their parents, no matter what."

"I know he's dead," she said. "It's just the idea of him being alone." Her tongue hesitated, poised on the edge of her teeth. "You . . . other-you. Told me what happened to your sisters."

"Well--" Marcello started, and then he closed his mouth, and gave her a questioning look. "What did he say?"

"About how the first time round, they all died. Not just two." She gritted her teeth, already wishing she'd left it alone.

The color drained from Marcello's face, slowly. "He...told you that?" he asked, hoarsely.

She nodded, then added quickly, "You don't have to talk about it any more if you don't want to. I just thought you should know that I knew. I didn't want to keep it from you."

He took a breath. "It's hard," he replied. "How much did I tell you?"

"Not much," she said softly. "That you made a bargain to bring them all back again. But then you woke up somewhere else entirely and the girl you loved didn't know you any more."