Rhapsody laughed, and leaned her head back against his shoulder as he put his arm around her. “What interesting imagery. Now, which of us is the farm child? Wheat is only good if you need food, Sam. Chaff works very well to make a soft bed. Generally we spend more time there than at the table, anyway.” Her eyes sparkled humorously, and he laughed with her, hugging her tighter. “And chaff makes a tremendous bonfire. Don’t discount the value of chaff, Sam. It will be our turn for bread eventually.”
Ashe sighed deeply and stroked her hair. They watched the fire for a long time, curled around each other in comfortable familiarity, as the flames changed colors, twisting in a quiet dance. Finally, he spoke. “I have a question.”
“Oh, good. So do I.”
“You first.”
“No, go ahead.”
“All right,” he said, enjoying the banality of their exchange, “why did you start calling yourself Rhapsody?”
She laughed. “Nana thought my real name was too ordinary. It was prim-sounding, not a good name for, well, for my new line of work.”
“Emily is a beautiful name.”
“
“Emily’ is only an abbreviation of my real name. It’s actually my nickname.” Interest brightened Ashe’s face. “Really? I didn’t know that. What is your real name?”
Rhapsody turned red, and she looked away, although her eyes still smiled. “Come on,” he cajoled, grabbing her around the waist, laughing as she squirmed away. “You’re going to marry me; I should at least get to know what your real name is. Gods, you know every permutation of mine.”
“I don’t know why you call yourself Ashe.”
“Because ‘Gwydion’ would get me killed. Stop stalling. What is it?”
“Be careful, Sam,” she said seriously. “A name is very powerful. My old name has never been spoken in this world. When that happens it should be in a special ceremony, something that will surround it with power, so it won’t be vulnerable to the old world demons. Like a wedding, for instance.”
He nodded, his playfulness subsiding. Rhapsody sensed his mood shift, and she climbed back into his lap.
“But,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief, “if I told it to you in pieces, it probably would be all right.”
“Only if—”
“
“Rhapsody’ really is my middle name,” she interrupted before he could finish. “My mother was a skysinger; her name was Allegra.”
“Beautiful.”
“It would be a good name for a daughter, wouldn’t it?”
He smiled at her tenderly. “Yes; yes it would.”
“Anyway, my father named me after his mother, and Mama was not thrilled with the name. She thought it was staid and boring. I know because she told me once, in front of the fire, when we were alone, brushing my hair. She wanted to name me something Lirin, something with music in it, because she believed it would give me a musical soul.”
“She was a wise woman.”
“So that’s where ‘Rhapsody’ came from. Besides being a musical term, it denotes unpredictability, and passion, and wild romance. She hoped those things would counteract my first name.”
He kissed her forehead. “It suits you perfectly.”
“Thank you—I think.”
“So,” he said, wicked mirth in his own eyes, “what was your grandmother’s name?”
“Elienne.”
“Not the Lirin one, you brat. What was your father’s mother’s name?”
Rhapsody’s face grew rosier still, either from embarrassment or laughter. “Amelia.”
“Amelia? I like Amelia. Emily, short for Amelia. Has a nice ring to it.”
“My family called me Emmy,” she said. “My friends called me Emily. The only one who called me Amelia was—”
“Let me guess: your grandmother?”
Rhapsody laughed again. “How did you know?”
“And what last name, what patronymic, did the farm families in your village generally have?”
She played along. “Well, the one I knew best was Turner, as in Earth-turner. It signified that they were planters, and raised crops from the ground. Nice people; I was very fond of all of them. Now, if we’re done with the ancient history lesson, is it my turn? Do I get to ask my question now?”
“Certainly. Ask away.”
“I want to know who this other woman was that you were going to search out and marry; the one you discovered after the ring came into full power.”
“There never was another woman, Rhapsody; I was talking about you.”
Rhapsody shook her head in disagreement. “When you said you now knew who the right woman was, this Cymrian woman you became aware of, and certain of, to be the Lady—”
“You.”
“I see. And the woman you told me you were in love with, in the forest when we—”
“Also you.”
“What about—”
“You, Rhapsody. There is, and never has been, anyone in my life but you. Until tonight I thought that constituted two, but, in actuality, since you and Emily are one and the same, it makes it astonishingly simple. I loved you then as Emily; I love you now, again, as Rhapsody, both very different and yet still the same. You are the only woman I have ever touched, ever kissed, ever loved. Just you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s keep it that way,” she whispered, smiling with him. “Is that selfish enough for you?”
His answer was lost in the kiss that followed; he cradled her face as their lips met, breathing her in like a spring wind, filling his soul with her essence. His hands slid up her back, his fingers caressing the crinkly silk of the dress, and carefully began to unbutton it.
Rhapsody pulled away gently “Sam, please don’t.”
“What’s the matter?”
She took a deep breath, then looked at him steadily. “Perhaps, given that I won’t have any memory of this tomorrow, it’s a bad idea to become engaged tonight.”
Ashe’s face fell. “Emily—”
“Let me finish. There’s no point in making a promise to marry. Those are promises easily broken, and without the knowledge that it was made, there really is no point in it. After everything you’ve heard, do you still want to marry me?”
His heart was in his eyes. “More than ever.”
“And given the choice, assuming all other things are unimportant, would you rather leave here tomorrow as my fiancé—or as my husband?”
Understanding began to dawn on him, and Ashe started to smile. “As your husband—no question.”
Her eyes mirrored his. “Then marry me, Sam. Marry me tonight.”
Rhapsody awoke the next morning as the light began to filter through the curtains. She stretched in luxurious warmth and rolled over in her bed, coming face-to-face with the sleeping Ashe. She started, and her movement caused him to wake and open his eyes.
“Good morning,” he said softly, smiling at her. There was a happiness in his eyes the like of which she had never seen.
“Good morning,” she answered drowsily, returning his smile wanly and yawning. “I have to say I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you planned to be gone before I awoke.” As her awareness began to return, she realized in embarrassment that they were naked beneath the sheets.
“We talked late into the night. Do you remember anything?”
Rhapsody turned the thought over in her mind. “No,” she said, a trace of sadness in her voice. “Not after we went into the gazebo—that’s my last memory. It went well, then?”
His smile broadened, and he reached out and drew a lock of her hair across his throat. “Very well.”
Rhapsody’s face grew solemn, returning to her melancholy thoughts of the night before. “Why did you stay, really?”
Ashe looked at her seriously. “We wanted to spend as much time together as we could before I left. You agreed; honestly you did.”