They’d spoken the same words, together. Drilli grinned and he found he was doing the same. He stepped forward and took her hands, then touched her face. She closed her eyes briefly, smiling blissfully. He pressed his lips to hers. Her answering kiss was strong and confident. He felt his entire body flush with heat. All the chill of winter seemed to retreat from around them. When they parted, his heart was racing and every doubt had evaporated.

Or I’ve completely lost my senses, he added. It’s what they say about young men, after all.

He turned to Sreil.

“Where now?”

Sreil chuckled. “In a hurry, are we? I still think Ryliss is the best choice. He has camped a little farther from the Open than everyone else. You know what these Temple Mountain types are like. All serious and seclusive. Follow me.”

Tryss took Drilli’s hand and they followed Sreil through the forest. It was a long journey; they had to skirt around the top of the Open. The dark shadows of the trees blocked the moonlight and snow blanketed all. Tryss and Drilli tripped over obstacles.

Drilli made a small sound.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“My feet hurt.”

“Mine, too.”

“Couldn’t we have flown?”

“I’m sure if we could have, Sreil would have chosen to.”

“I guess this is hurting him as much as us.”

She fell silent, then after a few minutes squeezed his hand.

“Sorry. How romantic of me to complain about sore feet on my wedding night.”

He chuckled. “I’ll give you a romantic foot-rub later, if you like.”

“Mmm. Yes, I’d like that.”

When a bower appeared among the trees ahead, Tryss felt a surge of relief. Sreil told them to wait while he checked to see if Speaker Ryliss was alone. Tryss felt his stomach beginning to flutter. Sreil moved to the entrance of the bower. A shadow within came to the doorway. The hanging was pulled aside, then Sreil turned and beckoned to them.

Drilli’s hand was tight around his as they hurried toward the bower. They stopped just outside the door. Speaker Ryliss regarded them thoughtfully, his eyes shadowed by thick gray eyebrows. He waved a hand.

“Come in.”

They went inside. A fire was burning to one side, the smoke rising to a hole in the roof. Its heat was welcome. Ryliss gestured to log seats, and as they sat down he settled into a hammock chair.

“So you two want to get married tonight,” he said. “That is no small thing. Are you both sure of it?”

Tryss glanced at Drilli, then nodded. She smiled and murmured a “yes.”

“I understand this is against your parents’ wishes.”

“Drilli’s parents,” Tryss answered. “Mine wouldn’t protest.”