“Possibilities. There are always choices. We each made ours, and have more to make yet. You know something of your heritage and of mine, but not all. In my country, in my family, there is a tradition. It’s simplest, I suppose, to compare it to rank, though it’s not precisely that. But one takes a place as head of the family. To guide, and counsel. To help in settling disputes should they arise.”

Once again he picked up the silver amulet, once again he set it down.

“Your father wears one of those in gold.”

“Aye, he does.”

“Because he’s head of the family?”

She was quick, Liam thought. Foolish of him to have forgotten that. “He is, until he chooses to pass on the duty.”

“To you.”

“It’s traditional for the amulet to be passed down to the oldest child. But there are choices, on both sides, and there are … stipulations. To inherit, one must be worthy of it.”

“Of course you are.”

“One must want it.”

Her smile faded into a look of puzzlement. “Don’t you?”

“I haven’t decided.” He slipped his hands into his pockets before he could pick up the amulet again. “I came here to take time, to think and consider. It must be my choice. I won’t be bullied by fate.”

The regal tone of his voice made her smile again. “No, you wouldn’t be. That’s another reason you’d be good at it.” She started to go to him, but he held up a hand.

“There are other requirements. If there is marriage, it must be to a mate with elfin blood, and the marriage must be for love, not for duty. Both must enter into it freely.”

“That seems only right,” she began, then stopped. As Liam had said, she was quick. “I have elfin blood, and I’ve just told you I’m in love with you.”

“And if I take you, my choices diminish.”

This time it took her a moment. It had been said so coolly it was like an iced sword to the heart. “Your choices. I see.” She nodded slowly while inside she fought to save the scattered pieces of her heart, the pitiful tatters of her pride. “And your choices include accepting this aspect of your heritage or abjuring it. You’d take that very, very seriously, wouldn’t you, Liam?”

“How could I not?”

“And I’m more or less like a weight for the scale. You just have to decide which bowl to set me in. How … awkward for you.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” he shot back, knocked off balance by her sudden sharp tones. “It’s my life.”