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"No sadness," she said sternly, walking toward Andrew and Lara, who sat huddled together on the settee. In front of them, she kneeled and looked up.
They both seemed heartbreakingly young and sad.
"We'll miss you," Andrew said with a shudder.
Selena looked at Andrew for a moment longer than she should have. For a second, her throat was painfully full. "The sunlight on your face will be my touch, Andrew. Remember that.
"I will miss you both." She drew them into a long, fierce hug, then slowly pulled back. Rising, she went to Edith, hugged her, then turned to the queen and fell into a deep curtsy.
The queen gave her a sad smile. "You're the only true subject I ever had."
"Good-bye, Your Highness."
Then she went to Johann.
"Goddess," he whispered.
It surprised her how much that single word hurt. Hot tears stung her eyes, blurred her vision, but she didn't wipe them away. There was no point being strong for Johann; of all of them, he'd always seen the truth of her.
"You don't have to go," he said quietly.
She wished it were true, wished it with her heart and soul and mind. "You know that is a lie."
He tried to laugh. "What do you know of lying, goddess?"
"Just what you have taught me, Johann." The teasing words slipped out, lightening their moods for a heartbeat. "Thank you," she whispered, throwing her arms around him. "That is the memory I needed, Johann. Thank you."
His arms curled around her, drew her close. "Be well, Selena."
After a second-not nearly long enough-she turned away from him.
Maeve stood with her back to the bookshelves. "Se-
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lena," she whispered, her lower lip trembling, her fingers spasming around1 the ribbon.
Selena hurled herself at Maeve, wrapped her arms around the thin, frail woman and hugged her tightly. "Take care of him, Maeve," she whispered hoarsely.
"I'll try," Maeve answered.
The words hung between them, and afterward, silence.
Selena knew it was time to turn away, time to move on, but suddenly she couldn't move.
"Selena." He said her name on a whisper, and just hearing it made her want to cry. Selena. The name he'd given her, a name steeped in dreams and myths and lore. Goddess of the Moon. No matter what happened in her life, she would always have that. The gift of her name, the gift of his dreams.
She turned to Ian. Their gazes met across the room, and at the look, so intimate and familiar, her world tilted, right slid into wrong, honor into love, and left her with a desperate nothingness. Numb, aching, she moved toward him. She wanted to reach out for him, feel the comforting roughness of his skin against hers, but she didn't dare touch him now. Not now. All that was left them-all that honor allowed-was in their eyes.
She reached up, brushed the hair from his face, and gazed into his blue, blue eyes. "Oh, Ian." She breathed.
She raised her left hand and began to remove the ring he'd given her.
He grabbed her wrist. "Jesus, Selena," he said in a ragged voice. "Don't ..."
She didn't look up, just stared at the ring until it blurred against her flesh. She tried to forget this moment even before it was over. Later, alone in the darkness, she'd come up with another ending, one filled with romance and laughter and love. One that didn't hurt so much.