‘I am serious,’ he said in a level tone. ‘I have never been more serious in my life.’
‘Why? Is it guilt or pity that makes you ask such a thing of me?’ She was weeping almost hysterically now.
‘It is neither. Imalwain, I ask because I love you. And because I was too much of a coward to admit this before . . . to you or to myself.’
This was too much for her. She began shouting, tried to hit him. ‘You’re lying! Why would you want me? Why now?’
Holding her to him, he said quietly, ‘The fear of discovery . . . that was always the thing! Such fear made liars of the best of us. In the past, confronting that fear was always met with death. But we have acted openly against our Sovereign now, and though He may well destroy us, we will live in fear no longer.’ By now, she had calmed down, and he studied her tear-stained profile, though she kept her face averted. ‘Does this suffice?’ he asked.
She was silent for some time. But finally, she accepted his embrace.
Malina stopped what she was doing when she noticed the horse entering the encampment. It was Birin, with Imalwain riding before him, wrapped in his cloak. As they approached, Malina ran to meet them crying, ‘Birin! Where did you find her? Is it she all right?’