He took her up the stairs to her rooms—now their rooms—this time taking them one at a time, and slowly, so as not to jar her.

To their mutual surprise, they found Elspeth seated on the top step.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he asked.

“Guarding your threshold, oh, magnificent one. It was the students’ idea. We took it turn and turn about since you left this morning. Except for during the ceremony itself that is—we left the staircase booby-trapped then. Not that we’re suspicious of anyone, mind, but we did want to make certain no one could get in to play any little tricks while you were gone. Some people have very rotten ideas about what’s funny. Anyway, that’s our wedding present.” With that, she skipped down the stairs without waiting for thanks.

“ ‘The caring heart,’ ” Talia said softly. “She’ll be a good Queen, one day.”

Dirk nudged the door open with his foot, placed Talia carefully on her couch inside, then turned to close it and throw the latch.

“Not that I’m suspicious of anyone,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “but a certain earlier performance of yours makes me wish to be certain that we’re undisturbed.”

“Not quite yet,” she said with a smile. “First I’ve got a bride-gift for you.”

“A what?”

“One good custom of my people. The bride always has a gift for her husband. It’s over there—on the hearth.”

“But—” for a moment he was speechless. “Talia, that’s My Lady. She’s your harp, I couldn’t take her!”

“Look again.”

He did—and realized that there was a second harp hidden in the shadows. He pulled both of them out into the light and scrutinized them closely.

“I can’t tell them apart,” he admitted at last.

“Well, I can, but I’ve had My Lady for years, I know every line of her grain. No one else can, though. They’re twins, made by the same hand, from the same wood; they’re even the same age. No—” she held up a warning hand. “Don’t ask me where or how I found it. That’s my secret. But in return for this one, you’ll have to promise to teach me to play My Lady as well as she deserves to be played.”

“Willingly—gladly. We can play duets—like—”

“Like you and Kris used to play,” she finished for him when he could not. “Love—I think it’s time for one last gift—” and she touched his mind, sharing with him the incredulous joy that had marked Kris’ passing.

“Gods—oh, gods, that helps . . . you must know how much that helps,” he managed after a moment. “Now if only—I wish I could know for certain that he knows about us—about now.”

He lifted her from the couch to move to the bedroom.