“At least,” she agreed, wrinkling her nose at him, then sobered again. “Yes, there are scars—but you have them, too. The wounds are healed—I’m not the only Healer of minds, you know—just the only one that’s a Herald as well. Rynee—she’s very good, as good as I am. Besides, I refuse to let what happened ruin what’s between us—and really, all they did was hurt my body, they didn’t touch me. What happened to you was worse—Naril raped your soul.”

“That’s healed, too,” he said quietly.

“Then leave it in the dead past. No one goes through life without picking up a scar or two.” She nestled closer to him as someone else came to offer their congratulations.

Then suddenly sat up. “Gods!”

“What?” Dirk asked, anxious until he saw that there was no sign of pain on her face. “What is it?”

“Back on my internship—that business with Maeven Weatherwitch—she ForeSaw something for me, and I couldn’t even guess what she meant, then. Now I know! She said that I would see the Havens but that love and duty would bar me from them—and—”

She faltered.

“And?” he prompted, gently.

“That—my greatest joy would be preceded by my greatest grief. Oh, gods—if only I’d known—if only I’d guessed—”

“You could never have anticipated what happened,” Dirk replied with such force that she shook off her anguish to stare at him. “No one could. Don’t ever blame yourself. Don’t you think that with all the ForeSeers among the Heralds if there had been any way of preventing what happened it would have been done?”

She sighed, and relaxed again. “You’re right . . .” she said, slowly. “You’re right.”

The celebrating continued on well past dusk, until at last, by ones and twos, the wedding guests began to drift away. Some were heading for other gatherings—like the one Talia and Dirk knew their fellow Heralds must be having somewhere. Some had more private affairs in mind. Finally Talia and Dirk were left alone, a state with which they were not at all displeased.

She rested contentedly on his shoulder, both of his arms lightly around her, and watched the stars blossoming overhead.

“It’s getting chilly,” she said at last.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “They’ve certainly made it easy for us to depart unnoticed.”

“I’m fairly certain that was on purpose. All that cheering was embarrassing enough, without chivaree, too.”

“It could have been worse. Think of the flower-bedecked platform! Think of Companions in the High Temple! Think of the life-sized sugar replicas of both of us!”

“I’d rather not!” She laughed.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes,” she said, putting her arms around his neck so that he could lift her.