Chapter 19

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Mharkhel's face reflected the deep emotion that Setryv's words kindled in him. But then he seemed to suppress his feelings. Or hide from them. "You have taken her from me. That, too, seems out of character." Mharkhel shrugged, as if the outcome of this conversation were a foregone conclusion. "You leave me with little choice."

Setryv's retort was curt. "The choice belongs to Ellycyn. And she has already made it."

Mharkhel's smile betrayed insolence. "Do not be so certain." Then the knight walked away, his arm around the attendant, convincing him with apologetic words and a few silver pennhutz to add two names to the list of trevhette participants.

Setryv was left standing by himself for the moment, haunted by hearing his own words uttered back to him. He tried to dismiss them and returned to Ellycyn. It was time to get her back to the castle. He would need some rest if the remainder of MidSummer were to be a celebration for him.

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