He had forgotten her for the moment as he leaned over the low wall, and she might have fled the tower then. But she stayed where she was, for an old bad dream was waking all around her, though it was daylight. The tide shattered on the rocks and tumbled together again, and Prince Lír rode along singing

But I will love you as long as I can
And never ask if you love me.

“I suppose I was young when I first saw them,” King Haggard said. “Now I must be old‌—‌at least I have picked many more things up than I had then, and put them all down again. But I always knew that nothing was worth the investment of my heart, because nothing lasts, and I was right, and so I was always old. Yet each time I see my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods, and I am truly young in spite of myself, and anything can happen in a world that holds such beauty.”

In the dream I looked down at four white legs, and felt the earth under split hooves. There was a burning on my brow, as there is now. But there were no unicorns coming in on the tide. The king is mad. He said, “I wonder what will become of them when I am gone. The Red Bull will forget them immediately, I know, and be off to find a new master, but I wonder if they will take their freedom even then. I hope not, for then they will belong to me forever.”

Then he turned to look at her again, and his eyes were as gentle and greedy as Prince Lír’s eyes became when he looked at her. “You are the last,” he said. “The Bull missed you because you were shaped like a woman, but I always knew. How did you manage the change, by the way? Your magician couldn’t have done it. I don’t think he could turn cream into butter.”

If she had let go of the parapet she would have fallen, but she answered him quite calmly, “My lord, I do not understand. I see nothing at all in the water.”

The king’s face shivered as though she were looking at him through fire. “Do you still deny yourself?” he whispered. “Do you dare deny yourself? Nay, that’s as false and cowardly as though you were truly human. I’ll hurl you down to your folk with my own hands if you deny yourself.” He took a step toward her, and she watched him with her eyes open, unable to move.

The tumult of the sea filled her head, together with Prince Lír’s singing, and the blubbering death wail of the man named Rukh. King Haggard’s gray face hung over her like a hammer, muttering, “It must be so, I cannot be mistaken. Yet her eyes are as stupid as his‌—‌as any eyes that never saw unicorns, never saw anything but themselves in a glass. What cheat is this, how can it be? There are no green leaves in her eyes now.”