Malcolm was neither surprised nor alarmed when he felt a warm body come clambering onto his bed.

Malcolm was neither surprised nor alarmed when he felt a warm body come clambering onto his bed, and he even had the presence of mind not to cry out when a bony little elbow was driven into his ribs. He had been expecting something like this – or not expecting, but hoping rather.

He had been hopeful enough that he had succeeded in chatting with Dunstan and Eadwyn until late: long after Iylaine had gone to bed, and late enough that he would get an invitation to spend the night at Nothelm. Now it seemed that he had been right to hope.

“Baby?” he whispered.

“Malcolm!” she whispered in reply. “I missed you!”

He chuckled and pulled her down on top of him. “I’ve heard that before!”

He chuckled and pulled her down on top of him.

“But, Malcolm!”

“I missed you, too, Babe,” he murmured and tried to pull her head down to his.

He had been away visiting his father for a month and had only returned that day. He had been hurt that she had not wanted to accompany them this year, and he had missed her tremendously.

But she was his, or as good as his. His father had asked him to carefully consider what life with an elf might mean, but he had said he would bless the marriage if it was what Malcolm desired. There was an advantage to being the second son!

There was an advantage to being the second son!

And Egelric had said he would not forbid it either, if Malcolm could win her. His only condition was that it be Iylaine herself to ask his permission. Egelric would not engage in the futile and potentially limb-​​threatening exercise of attempting to force Iylaine into a marriage.

Thus, in Malcolm’s mind, it was a question of a few years and a few formalities. He would win her. She was his already. She was as skittish as a filly, but she would know who was her master when they came down to it.

But now she tossed her head like a filly shy of the halter. “No!” she whispered. “Come with me.”

'Come with me.'

“Kiss me,” he commanded.

“Come with me.”

“Kiss me first.”

“Come with me first!”

“And then you will kiss me?”

“Aye! Just come!” she hissed impatiently.

“Where are we going?”

She climbed off the bed and pulled him to his feet. He noticed only then that she was already dressed.

'Out!  Get dressed.'

“Out! Get dressed.”

“Where are we going?” he repeated stupidly as he began to dress. Suddenly he had a doubt about who was truly the master of whom.

“Swimming.”

“What?” Malcolm dropped the shirt he had been about to pull over his head.

“Swimming,” she said and wrapped her arms around his naked waist. “I’ve been wanting and wanting to learn how to swim, but I waited for you to come home.”

'I've been wanting and wanting to learn how to swim, but I waited for you to come home.'

“Baby…”

“You said you would teach me! Remember? Last fall? You said you would teach me to swim.”

“Aye, and so I shall.” He pulled her closer. “Tomorrow. Let’s stay here tonight.”

“No! Tonight!” She struggled away. “The moon is full. It will be so pretty!”

“Baby…” he groaned.

“Won’t it be more fun in the dark?” she smiled eagerly.

'Won't it be more fun in the dark?'

He thought there might have been some truth in this. He had occasionally gone swimming at night, alone or with the boys, but he had not thought of taking a girl to the pool. On the other hand, there was much less risk in taking a girl to one’s bedchamber, especially if she was already there.

“But, Baby, how shall we get out of here?”

“You may simply walk out,” she said quickly, as if she had already planned for everything. “Eadwyn and Leof go in and out at night all the time, looking for girls. And I shall follow you a few minutes later.”

'And I shall follow you a few minutes later.'

“The guards will never let you go, stupid girl! Come on, Babe. Let’s stay here,” he coaxed and tried to take her hand.

She yanked her hand away. “I know how to get out so they can’t see me.”

“How?”

“Just do it!” She stamped her foot in impatience. “Stupid boy!”

“Baby, you’re mad,” he sighed and shook his head.

“I know,” she said, eagerly again, and she picked up his shirt and tossed it at him. “But if I were just an ordinary, good girl like Synne, you wouldn’t like me at all.”

Malcolm thought there might have been some truth in that.

Malcolm thought there might have been some truth in that.