“Please go away, Monsieur le Comte,” she said in a polite voice. “You must have tired of your absurd, inconsequential games by now.”“My games are never inconsequential, as long as they entertain me.”She closed her eyes in frustration for a brief moment. “This house is filled with beautiful women…”“Oh, not quite filled,” he said frankly, leaning back. “The Revels won’t start for another day. At this point there are no more than half a dozen beauties in residence.”“Then why don’t you go bother one of them?”“Because I don’t want one of them, my sweet. I want you.”

“I don’t want Tiamat to go back,” said Jeremy sullenly. “I want her to stay here with me.”Miss Priest laughed. It was not a horrible laugh at all. “What a terrible idea!” she said. “Why do you want her to stay?”Because I love her. I don’t want to lose her.”Miss Priest reached out and took his chin in her hand. She looked into his eyes. “You silly boy,” she said. “Nothing you love is lost. Not really. Things, people—they always go away, sooner or later. You can’t hold them, any more than you can hold moonlight. But if they’ve touched you, if they’re inside you, then they’re still yours. The only things you ever really have are the ones you hold inside your heart.”

“Beautiful. Belle is French for beautiful.”“Oh dear.” She could never live up to her name. The thought made her want to cry. “Please, sir.”“But you are beautiful. It mystifies me that you don’t seem to believe that fact.”“My mirror tells me otherwise every day of my life.”“Then accept that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and my eyes tell me you are beautiful.”

“I don’t want to be like her, like Vivian. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Am I going to hurt people?”“No one can make you do that, child. You are caught between two worlds, much like my own Lend. You will want the fire, you will want to be filled. It is your nature. I hope you do not fall, but she is much stronger than you are.”She smiled at me, reaching out as though she would wipe away my tears. “Cling to what is good in your life. Be good to my son.”

“I’ll go talk to them,” Annwyl said. But she cracked her knuckles. “Right now.”Izzy cut in front of Annwyl, forced a smile. “Why don’t I talk to them? Daddy listens to me.”“You want my sword?”Izzy blinked. Hard. “No. I don’t think that’s necessary. To talk to my father and uncles that I adore.”“You want me warhammer then?”

“Swallow the tears back often enough and they’ll start feeling like acid dripping down your throat. It’s that terrible moment when you’re sitting still so still so still because you don’t want them to see you cry you don’t want to cry but your lips won’t stop trembling and your eyes are filled to the brim with please and I beg you and please and I’m sorry and please and have mercy and maybe this time it’ll be different but it’s always the same. There’s no one to run to for comfort. No one on your side. Light a candle for me, I used to whisper to no one. Someone. Anyone. If you’re out there. Please tell me you can feel this fire.”