Hadrian took his hand off the urn and pulled his feet off the ram.

You told me you were going to be a great hero. Show me, then. Show me one thing worth the life you spent. One thing wrought. One thing won. One thing earned. One thing learned. Does such a thing exist? Is there anything to show?

Hadrian tilted his head and looked out toward the crypt. There, in the distance, he saw the dim blue glow.

He stared at it for some time. In the darkness he could not tell how long. The light grew and fell slightly-with her breathing, he guessed. He had no real idea how it worked, whether the shift was of her making or the robe's.

Is there anything to show? he asked himself.

Hadrian stood up and, reaching out with his hands, moved along the wall to the opening into the crypt. There was no one out here but her. She was in one of the alcoves, sitting behind a sarcophagus, the one with the scenes of natural landscapes carved on the sides. Her head was resting on her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs.

He sat beside her, and as he did, the light from her robe brightened slightly and her head lifted. Her cheeks were streaked from tears. She blinked at him and wiped her eyes.

"Hi," she said.

"h.e.l.lo," he replied. "Dream?"

Arista paused, then shook her head sadly. "No-no, I didn't. What does that mean, I wonder."

"I think it means we're done."

Arista nodded. "I suppose so."

"Everyone is in the tomb. Why did you come over here?"

"I dunno," she said. "I wanted to be alone, I guess. I was reviewing my life-all the things I regret. What I never did. What I should have. What I did that I wished I hadn't. You know, fun, entertaining stuff like that. That kind of thinking is best done alone, you know? What about you? What were you thinking?"

"Same sort of thing."

"Oh yeah? What did you come up with?"

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "Funny you should ask. There's a whole lot of things I wished I hadn't done, but... as turns out, there's really only one thing I wished I had done but didn't."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? You're a fortunate man-almost as good as Myron."

"Heh, yeah," he said uncomfortably.

"What is it, this thing you haven't done?"

"Well, it's like this. I'm-I'm actually envious of Royce right now. I never thought I'd say that, but it's true. Royce had the kind of life that mothers warn their children they will have if they don't behave. It was like the G.o.ds had it out for him the day he was born. It's little wonder he turned out as he did. When I first met him, he was quite scary."

"Was?"

"Oh yeah, not like he is now-real scary-the never-turn-your-back brand of scary. But Arcadius saw something in him that no one else did. I suppose that's something wizards can do, see into men's souls. Notice what the rest of the world can't about a person."

Hadrian shifted uneasily, feeling the cold stone of the floor through a thick layer of fine dust. He crossed his legs and leaned slightly forward.

"It took Royce a long time to trust anyone. To be honest, I'm not even sure he fully trusts me yet, but he did trust her. Gwen changed Royce. She did the impossible by making him happy. Even now, the idea of Royce smiling-in a good way-is-I dunno, like snow falling in summer, or sheep curling up with wolves. You don't get that kind of thing from just liking a girl. There was something special there, something profound. He only had her briefly, but at least he knows what that feels like. You know what I mean?"

"Yes," she said. "I do."

"That's what I regret."

"You can't regret that," she said, nearly laughing. "How can you regret never having found true love? That's like saying you regret not being born a genius. People don't have control over such things. It either happens or it doesn't. It's a gift-a present that most never get. It's more like a miracle, really, when you think of it. I mean, first you have to find that person, and then you have to get to know them to realize just what they mean to you-that right there is ridiculously difficult. Then..." She paused a moment, looking far away. "Then that person has to feel the same way about you. It's like searching for a specific snowflake, and even if you manage to find it, that's not good enough. You still have to find its matching pair. What are the odds? Hilfred found it, I think. He loved me."

"Did you love him?"

"Yes, but not the way he wanted me to. Not the way he loved me. I wish I had. I feel I should have. It was the same with Emery. I actually feel guilty that I didn't. Maybe with time I could have loved Emery, but I hardly knew him."

"And Hilfred?"

"I don't know. He was more like a brother to me, I suppose. I wanted to make him happy, the way I wanted to see Alric happy. But you see, that's just what I'm talking about. Most people never come near their true love, or if they do, it's one sided. That is perhaps more tragic than never finding love at all. To know joy lies forever just beyond your reach-in a way, it's a kind of torture. So you see, if you don't have control, if it's not a choice, then not finding the one you love is really nothing to regret, is it?"

"Well, that's just the thing. I did find her and I never told her how I feel."

"Oh-that is awful," she said, then caught herself and raised a hand to cover her mouth. "I'm so sorry. That was terrible of me. No wonder I was such a lousy amba.s.sador. I'm just the embodiment of tact, aren't I? Here your-Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed as a look of revelation came over her face. "I know who she is."

Hadrian suddenly felt very warm; his skin p.r.i.c.kled uncomfortably under his shirt.

"She's very pretty, by the way."

"Ah-" Hadrian stared at her, confused.

"Her name isn't actually Emerald, is it? I heard someone call her that."

"Emerald? You think I'm talking about-"

"Aren't you?" She appeared embarra.s.sed and cautiously said, "I saw her kissing you when we left."

Hadrian chuckled. "Her real name is Falina and she is a nice girl, but no, I'm not speaking of her. No, the woman I'm talking about is nothing like her."

"Oh," the princess said softly. "So why have you never told her how you feel?"

"I have a list somewhere." He patted his shirt with his hands, trying to be funny, but he just felt stupid.

She smiled at him. He liked seeing her smile.

"No really-why?"

"I'm not kidding. I really do have a list. It's just not written down. I keep adding items to it. There's so many reasons on it now."

"Give me a few."

"Well, the big one is that she's n.o.ble."

"Oh, I see," she said gravely, "but that's not impossible. It depends on the girl, of course, but n.o.ble ladies have married common men before. It's not unheard of."

"Rich merchants, perhaps, but how many ladies do you know of that ran off with a common thief?"

"You're hardly a common thief," she chided him sternly. "But I suppose I can see your point. You're right that there aren't many n.o.blewomen who could see past both a common background and a disreputable career. Lenare Lanaklin, for one-it's not her, is it?" She cringed slightly.

"No, it's not Lenare."

"Oh, good." She sighed, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow. "Don't get me wrong, I love Lenare like a sister, but she's not right for you."

"I know."

"Still, some women, even n.o.blewomen, can be attracted to outlaws. They hear tales of daring and they can get swept away by the intrigue-I've seen it."

"But what about obligations? Even if she wanted to, she couldn't turn her back on her responsibilities. There are t.i.tles and land holdings at stake."

"Another good point."

"Is that what kept you from getting married?" he asked.

"Me? Oh dear Maribor, no." She smiled bitterly. "I'm sure Alric wanted to marry me off to a number of prominent allies for that very reason. If my father hadn't been killed, I'm sure I would be married to Prince Rudolf of Alburn right now." She shivered dramatically for effect. "Thankfully, Alric was a kind man-I never would have expected it from him when we were younger, but he never would force me. I don't know of too many others who would have done the same."

"So why didn't you?"

"Marry, you mean?" She laughed a little uneasily. "You might find this hard to believe, Hadrian-given my immense beauty and all-but Emery was the first man to show an interest. At least, he was the first to actually say anything to me. I'm not like Lenare or Alenda. Men aren't attracted to me and the whole witch thing doesn't help. No, Emery was the first, and I honestly believe that if he'd gotten to know me better, he would have changed his mind. He didn't live long enough to figure out it was just infatuation. It was the same with Hilfred." She paused and looked away from him, a sadness overtaking her. "I suppose I should be happy that so few have ever showed an interest in me, or I might have more blood on my hands."

"I don't follow."

"Only Emery and Hilfred expressed feelings for me." She hesitated a moment. "And each time, within something less than a week, they died."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was my idea to stage the revolt that killed Emery, and it was my plan to save Gaunt that killed Hilfred. My plans-always my plans."

"Emery would have died in the square if it wasn't for you."

"And Hilfred?" she taunted.

"Hilfred made his own choice, just as you did. I'm sure he knew the risks. It wasn't your fault."

"I still feel cursed, like I'm not supposed to be happy-that way."

He thought she might speak again and waited. They sat in silence for several minutes. He watched her close her eyes and he took another breath. This was harder than he had expected.

"The real reason I never told her," Hadrian went on, his own voice sounding awkward to him, odd and off key, "if I am honest with myself, is that I'm scared."

She rolled her head to look at him with a sidelong glance. "Scared? You? Really?"

"I guess I was afraid she'd laugh at me. Or worse, become angry and hate me. That's the worst thing I can think of-that she would hate me. I'm not sure I could live with that. You see, I'm very much in love with her, and I'd rather be drawn and quartered than have her hate me."

He watched as Arista's shoulders sank. Her eyes drifted from his face, and her mouth tightened. "Sounds like a lucky woman. It's a shame she's not here now. There's not much to lose at this point. It could give you the courage to tell her, knowing that if she hates you, you'll not have to endure the pain for long."

Hadrian smiled and nodded.

Arista took a breath and sat up. "Do I know her?" She cringed again, as if expecting to be struck.

Hadrian sighed heavily.

"What?" she asked. "I do know her, don't I? You would have told me her name by now if I didn't. Oh come on. It hardly seems worth keeping the secret at this point."

"That's it exactly," he said. "The reason I was thinking all this is because..." He paused, looking into her eyes. They were like pools he was preparing to jump into without knowing the temperature of the water. He braced himself for the shock. "The one thing I regret the most in my life is the one thing I can still change before it's too late."

Arista narrowed her eyes at him. She tilted her head slightly the way a dog might when it heard an odd sound. "But how are you going to-" She stopped.

Her mouth closed and she stared at him without speaking, without moving. Hadrian was not certain she was still breathing.

Slowly her lower lip began to tremble. It started there and he watched as the tremor worked its way down her neck to her shoulders, shaking her body so that her hair quivered. Without warning tears spilled down her cheeks. Still she did not speak, she did not move, but the robe changed from blue to bright purple, surrounding both of them with light.

What does that mean?

"Arista?" he whispered fearfully. The look on her face was unfathomable.

Fear? Shock? Remorse? What is it?

He desperately needed to know. He had just thrown himself off a cliff and could not see the bottom.

"Are you upset?" he asked. "Please don't be mad-don't hate me. I don't want to die with you hating me. This is exactly why I never said anything. I was afraid that-"

Her fingers came up to his lips and gently pressed them shut.

"Shh," she managed to utter as she continued to cry, her eyes never leaving his face.

She took his hands in hers and squeezed. "I don't hate you," she whispered. "I just-I-" She bit her lip.

"What!" Hadrian said in desperation, his eyes wide, trying to see everything, searching for any clue. She was torturing him on purpose-he knew it.

"This is going to sound really stupid," she told him, shaking her head slowly.

"I don't care-say it. Whatever it is, just say it!"

"I-" She laughed a little. "I don't think I've ever been happier in my entire life than I am right now."

It was his turn to stare. His mouth opened but his mind could not supply words. He was lost in her eyes and realized he could breathe once more.

"If you knew that I-how much I hoped-" She tilted her head down so that her hair hid her face. "I never thought that you saw me as anything more than a-a job." She raised her head and sniffled. "And the way you and Royce talked about n.o.bles..."

Hadrian noticed his heart was beating again. It pounded in his chest, and despite the chill in the crypt, his shirt was soaked with sweat, his hands trembling.

"We're gonna die here," she told him, and abruptly started laughing. "But suddenly I don't care anymore. I never thought I could be so happy."

This got him laughing too. Somewhere inside him, relief and joy were mixing together to create an intoxicant more powerful than any liquor. He felt drunk, dizzy, and-more than ever before-alive.

"I feel-I feel so..." She laughed once and looked embarra.s.sed.