“Wait for me here,” Drew said, smiling with chagrin. He released her hand and marched into the huge room, one hand on the hilt of Firebos. The crowd parted before him as he strode toward the fountain from which he had first drawn the sword. And then Trynne saw that Genny had joined Lord Amrein and Mariette, and a tingle of warmth went down to her toes. Her throat caught with delight as she watched Genevieve, holding baby Kate in her arms, rush forward and embrace her husband with laughter and tears.

“The war is over!” Drew shouted to the assembled crowd in a loud, triumphant voice. “We have peace!”

A chorus of cheers and exultant shouts thrummed throughout the vast chamber. Within moments, the bells of Our Lady began to ring, adding to the frenzy. A few children began dancing with reckless abandon inside the fountain waters. Having heard the stories of her father and Lady Evie playing in that very fountain as little ones, Trynne started to laugh through her tears. She pressed her hand against her nose, trying to stifle the sobs.

Trynne felt Gahalatine’s arm wrap around her shoulders and she leaned into him. He pressed a kiss into her hair.

Genevieve presented the baby girl to Drew, who picked up the lass and smothered her cheek with kisses. A pang of longing filled Trynne at the sight. While she was pleased that the Fountain had used her to bring peace to the realm, she missed her own father dreadfully. Seeing the scene unfold before her awakened feelings she’d suppressed. Would her father and mother come home again? Would they be a family together once more? She remembered something Genny had said, the memory as sharp and piercing as a thorn.

“What sort of world will she inherit? Will it be Gahalatine’s? Or her father’s?”

“She’ll inherit the world we leave her,” Trynne had said.

“And what kind of world will that be?”

Trynne looked up at Gahalatine, saw him staring down at her with a look of affection. It awakened a hunger inside her, a longing that could not be denied. She couldn’t imagine anything changing that look. He was firm and constant. He was to be her husband. She stared up at him, wanting him to bend down and kiss her.

And almost in response to her contented thought, a shadow passed over the sunlight outside as a cloud drifted by. And with it came the memory of Fallon’s kiss.

EPILOGUE Into the Deep Fathoms

EPILOGUE

Into the Deep Fathoms