“I made that up. You know Marcus. He got lost once in his own museum.”

“But all three of them had had to lose things in order to gain other things. Will had lost his shell and his cool and his distance, and he felt scared and vulnerable, but he got to be with Rachel; and Fiona had lost a big chunk of Marcus, and she got to stay away from the casualty ward; and Marcus had lost himself, and got to walk home from school with his shoes on.”

“Esca tossed the slender papyrus roll onto the cot, and set his own hands over Marcus's. "I have not served the Centurion because I was his slave," he said, dropping unconsciously into the speech of his own people. "I have served Marcus, and it was not slave-service...my stomach will be glad when we start on this hunting trail.”

“I totally don't know what to do." He got up and started pacing. "Am I supposed to get you a present? Or maybe a card. I'm completely lost.”

“Why would he bother? He has no more wish to wed than I.”“How do you know?” Anthony asked. “Did you ask him?”Her face heated, and Anthony covered his eyes. “Pray do not say another word. I don’t wish to know.”“Bridgeton had a choice, Sara,” Marcus said. “And he chose marriage.”“Get married or die. I vow, how did he make up his mind so quickly?”“I wanted to shoot him,” Anthony offered. “But Marcus would not allow it.”“You are both insufferable!”

“So everything we believe about happiness is wrong," I said.He nodded.Everything?" I asked, when what I meant was, Everything? Including you? Including me?And Marcus, being Marcus, knew what I really wanted to know, and answered my silent, more significant question. He held up his hand to shield the rays and looked me in the eyes.Almost.”