"So what does that mean for us?" Mericlou said, not bothering to control the tears that now streamed down her face in heavy rivulets. "Do you … want to end our relationship? I understand if you-"
But before she could finish her sentence, Aldrec leaned forward, and brought her into a kiss whose fire and sincerity rivaled the one they shared in the Lusea alleyway, seemingly a lifetime ago.
Mericlou, desperate for a re-affirmation of his love, gave wholeheartedly into the kiss, and it melted away all her doubts. The anguish of both last night and a moment ago ran free with her tears.
"You are my Tulyr," he said, gazing hard into her wet and glistening amber eyes. "And no one will take me away from you. And I'm not about to allow something as trivial as sentiment aroused by a mere news broadcast change all that. I love you." The cadence of his last three words struck like three darts dead into Mericlou's heart. As if for the first time, she was completely and thoroughly aware of how much he truly loved her, and realized without fear or doubt exactly how much she loved him. And she returned the sentiment ten times over.
"Aldrec …" she whispered, "love …" They kissed again, slowly, savoring their emotions, rejoicing in the revelation the love that they had for each other, now fully realized. And as they had in the park, they held each other close in the aftermath, relishing the moment, ignorant of place or time.
"I might never be able to go back home again," Mericlou said.
"Well, my house is a fine home," Aldrec said. "You could live here if you like."
Mericlou blushed deeply. "I … don't want to impose …"
Aldrec laughed. "Trust me, Tulyr," he said as he stood up. He took Mericlou by the hand. "You would most definitely not be imposing! Come, I have something else to show you!"
Mericlou followed him to the opposite end of the room, where at first there appeared to be nothing more than a blank wall. But at a second glance, she noticed that there was a circle of runes etched faintly upon its surface. These particular runes were not in the flowing dwarven cursive, but were a separate script entirely, more angular, yet nonetheless magical as Aldrec soon proved.
He touched them, and again uttered a string of barely audible syllables. The runes glowed a soft green, and the wooden façade transformed into highly-polished and reflective glass.