We spun Tulpa and Red to a halt, holding back as tradition dictated until their vows were said. It might be a while as they were swamped by well-wishers. Trent was beaming, his eyes never leaving the couple as they dismounted and graciously touched hands and cheeks to everyone.
“I can see why you’d want this instead of Ellasbeth’s church wedding,” I said, and he jerked, eyes flicking to mine. “It’s beautiful.”
“What I wanted didn’t matter,” he said, pausing to bring Tulpa’s head up from the grass. “It still doesn’t,” he said, leather creaking as he leaned across the space between us and kissed me. His lips were warm and his touch sent a wave of tingles down to my core, but guilt kept me from enjoying it.
Seeing my downcast eyes, Trent took my chin in his hand to make me look at him. “Rachel, it’s not too late. The demons won’t stand in our way. The elves either. Why don’t you ever say yes to me?”
To marry him? Sighing, I dropped my gaze. “I don’t know,” I whispered, and then frustrated, I pulled my head up. “Trent, we’ve been over this. You can’t marry a barren woman and maintain your hold on the dewar and the enclave.”
Trent slumped, making me angry.
“What is wrong with what we have!” I exclaimed, careful to keep my voice from carrying. “I thought you were happy!”
“I am happy.” Trent’s eyes held a mix of heartache and anticipation that I didn’t understand. “Rachel—”
“I’m happy you’re happy,” I interrupted, a growing feeling of frustration joining our old argument. “The girls have grown up beautifully. I don’t know how they keep it straight, but I guess as long as they’re loved, it makes sense to them.”
Our eyes lifted to the river as the head of the dewar and Dali waited with Ray and Keric. The chairs were empty now as everyone stood around the couple in a protective circle—everyone who cared for them, loved them, wanted to see them happy. My frustration sort of left.
“It makes sense to me, too,” Trent said softly, but I felt a hesitation in him, something he hadn’t yet said. From the river, Al shouted and gnashed his teeth, falling down as if dead amid cheers as he formally gave up his protection of Ray, the huntsman defeated by a token blow from Keric and his mother, their hands joined on a ceremonial sword. It would go to Trent as the symbolic spoils of war.
“You’re happy?” I asked again, and he reached out and set his hand atop mine as I held Red’s reins.
“More than I’ve ever been in my life,” he said, but still I heard a doubt, a lingering niggle of worry.
“Then nothing could make this more perfect,” I prompted. He said nothing, and I shifted Red’s reins to my free hand so I could take his hand more firmly. “Trent . . .”
Dropping his head, he whispered, “A new little boy or girl would make this more perfect.”
My breath caught, and I forced myself to not shift my grip, making it neither less tight nor more so. He wanted another child, and I couldn’t give it to him. “You know I’d never stand in your way.”
He pulled my hand to his chest, drawing my eyes to his. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
He was smiling, bursting almost. My heart seemed to break, and I pulled away. Behind him, clouds of blue butterflies rose up as the couple became one. Sunset. “That’s our cue,” I said, a lump in my throat. He wanted another child, and I couldn’t give it to him. Hell, what did I expect? It was my own fault, really. It wasn’t supposed to matter. I told myself it didn’t matter, but after twenty-seven years, it did.
“Rachel, no!” Trent exclaimed, leaning in a jingle of tack to grab Red’s bridle and bring me to a halt. “Not with another woman, I mean you and me! Us!”
From the crowd, a soft sound rolled out as the butterflies rose, symbols of love and war all wrapped up in one, for as butterflies seek out flowers, they also seek carrion.
“What do you mean, us?” I asked, and Trent took my hand, nudging Tulpa into motion and drawing Red into his wake. My head hurt, and my shoulders were stiff. Why was he bringing this up now? In front of everyone?
He was totally self-satisfied, sitting with that damned smugness that irritated me, eyes forward and smile fixed. His eyes, though, were dancing. “It’s our present to Ray and Keric,” he said. “Al’s and mine. We’ve been working on it for over three years. We both thought a child, one that was part of each of them, would be a fitting expression of their love. But if you don’t want to . . .”