He grinned, too pleased with her indignant protest to take offense. He turned serious once more. “When Tineroth vanishes, she will be caught between worlds, frozen in time. The stars appearing in the night sky now won’t be there tomorrow night. Days and nights will be nothing more than a fading and brightening of light. No change of seasons. No rain. Do you understand what I’m saying, Imogen? There is a sameness here to drive the strongest person mad. Some would say I’m halfway there already, and they’d be right. You’d face the same thing if you stayed here with me.”

He watched her face as she mulled over his words. “I’m a princess of Castagher,” she said, startling Cededa with that bit of information. “But I’d rather be a queen of Tineroth.”

“And rule beside me over the dead and forgotten?” He refused to soften the reality of his existence in Tineroth. If she stayed with him, she’d share that reality. He wanted no misconceptions between them.

Her eyes darkened. “Fitting, I think. My bane is still with me.”

He sighed, his fear confirmed. “Aye, I thought it might be. Niamh’s belief in my powers was misplaced. I can only lessen the effects, not rid you of them entirely.”

“Then I’d say that’s a reason as good as any for me to stay with you. Maybe by the time you’ve leached enough of this malice out of my blood, we’ll both be old and can die together.”

“Imogen…”

She stopped his protest with a kiss. “Let me stay,” she implored. “Let me love you. I know you love me. Whether it’s for one lifetime or six, give us both that time, that chance.”

He shivered, hardly daring to trust in her declaration. Theirs wouldn’t be a normal life, but neither had led such a life before. This one, with her as his companion, had the potential for being better than most. And she loved him—had told him so in a matter-of-fact way that left no room for doubt. She had abandoned a new life of rank and privilege to return to him. What more proof could he ask of her devotion?

She squealed when he held her tight enough to crush the breath out of her lungs. “Six lifetimes isn’t enough, Imogen,” he teased. “I’m a demanding king. I’d want at least a hundred.” He kissed her softly and stared into her eyes. “I will love you until we are both dust, when even Tineroth is no more and passes from all memory.”

Her eyes grew glossy with tears. “Is that all?” she croaked. She grinned and cleared her throat. “How inconstant of you.”