Page 106 of Stolen Songbird

I sighed, the idea of growing old alone heavy upon me. Never again to be kissed or touched by a lover. To remain a maid until I was wrinkled and grey and beyond caring about such things. Maybe Tristan was right. Maybe I would forget him in order to have a life with someone else.

Unbidden, the feel of Christophe’s hands came to my mind. The rough, calloused hands of a farmer. His blue and so very human eyes. He was certainly handsome—all the girls fought for turns to dance with him at festivals. Kind, thoughtful, and hardworking, he would make someone a good husband. Make me a good husband? I imagined what it would be like to hold his hand while we walked; how it would feel if he kissed me out under the stars. What it would be like if I wed Chris and let him take me to his bed?

My mind recoiled at the very idea of it. It wasn’t that Chris disgusted me, but the thought of doing any of those things with anyone but Tristan made me sick to my stomach.

Getting to my feet, I walked down the beach until I reached the eastern edge of the rock fall. Then I made my way up the slope until I reached the edge of the massive wooden bridge built years ago that spanned the rock. From here, I could see the entire extent of the fall that stretched between Forsaken Mountain and the beach, and it seemed impossible that an entire city resided beneath. I started across the bridge, stepping carefully to avoid getting splinters in my bare feet. When I reached the point above River Road, where Tristan waited for me, I stopped. If I continued east on the road, I would eventually reach Trianon. West and then north would take me back to the Hollow.

Choose.

Hoof beats sounded on the wooden bridge. A rider was coming towards me on a big white horse. When he saw me, he pushed the horse to a gallop, rapidly covering the distance between us. Then he pulled the horse to a stop so sharply that it reared up.

“My lady! What are you doing on the road all alone! It isn’t safe.”

I took in his clothing and the quality of the horse—a wealthy landowner, or perhaps a minor nobleman.

“What do I have to fear?” I asked, leaning back against the railing. The answer was: plenty. I was unarmed, and Tristan was beyond reach.

The man’s eyes raked over me, taking in my jewels and finery. “A beauty like you, my lady?” He smiled. “Ravishment, at the very least.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Surely a man of your quality would never consider such a thing, sir?”

He inclined his head. “I’d take off the head of any who tried, lady.” He reached down with one arm. “Let me take you back to the city.”

I stared at his hand. This was my chance, if I wanted to take it. Once I was in Trianon, there would be no turning back.

I shook my head. “Someone is waiting for me.”

The man laughed. “Lucky man. And good day to you, lady.” He clucked to his horse and cantered down the road. I waited until he was out of sight before walking back along the bridge and down to the beach, where I sat in the sand for a very long time. There were so many things I would be giving up if I went back to Trollus, but there was a lot I would be leaving behind if I didn’t. Not just Tristan, but Marc and the twins, and all the other trolls I’d met and befriended in my time beneath the mountain. Trollus had its dark side, but there was so much about it that I loved, a world of opportunity in one small city—and once Tristan was king, he’d wipe away the darkness, leaving only light.

And there was the matter of the half-bloods to consider. I felt I owed it to them to try to enact the change they so desperately needed, to give them a chance at having lives worth living. The thought of leaving the miners in their current circumstances filled me with guilt, especially given that they already thought I’d tried to abandon them once.

I poured sand from one hand to another, weighing and measuring, but it was hard to value matters of the heart. When I finally stood, the choice was clear.

I started back towards the mouth of River Road. Tristan must have heard, or at least felt, my coming, because he got to his feet and leaned against the invisible barrier. This place, like twilight or dawn, was a bridge between darkness and light. A place where both fought for domination, but neither ever truly won. Here, Tristan looked more human than I had ever seen him. His troll-light had disappeared, and his eyes, while still unnaturally silver, did not glow. The otherworldliness had diminished. I wondered, as I walked towards him, if out in the brightness of the sun, he would seem as mortal as me. He was still beautiful, handsome, like something out of a dream, but the coldness of that perfection was softened by anxiety, fear, and hope. Painful, painful hope.

As I reached the edge of the barrier, I stopped and looked back. The waves crashed towards me, the tide coming in; and even in the shade, the sun warmed my bones with a heat never felt in Trollus. My world. My life. My choice.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve made my decision.”

32

Cécile

My love.

“I choose you.” I stepped through the barrier, pushing him back and away from it. The second I was through, his emotions hit me like a tidal wave. Relief, happiness, and most of all… love. I drowned in it. We both did.

“Cécile.” He pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard and without any reservation. We both slipped to our knees, and I gloried in the feel of his lips on my lips, my cheeks, my throat. Golden buttons rained across the stones as he lost patience with them and tore the back of the dress open, purple silk sliding down my body to pool at my waist. I pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, so there was nothing between us but the silk and stays with which Anaïs had so cruelly laced my ribs. The frenzy of Tristan’s kisses faded, his lips pausing on the spot above my frantically beating heart. I felt his fingers trace down my silk-lined body. “How do you breathe in this?” he murmured.

“I can’t,” I gasped. “Take it off.”

A cough echoed through the tunnel and both of us froze. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a young troll guard standing a few paces up the tunnel, his eyes fixed on the ground at his feet. A squeak of horror escaped my lips, and I jerked the dress up around my torso, trying to reclaim some vestiges of my modesty.

“Your timing is dreadful,” Tristan said.

“Sorry, my lord,” the guard said, hazarding a peek at me. “She really isn’t supposed to be down here.”

“And you really weren’t supposed to interrupt,” Tristan said, the corners of his mouth turning up. “I’m willing to forgive the latter, if you pretend you never saw the former.”

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