Renna returned to the village with a quick step and her eyes on the ground. Much as she wished she could just brush off Izotz's warning, she knew that the tribe would be blaming her for the death of their chief. She'd never done anything to earn their distrust, but her green eyes were the eyes of a witch, and she was interloper, and therefore was the perfect scapegoat for everything. Well, not quite everything, she reflected. It had crossed her mind that nothing good was ever blamed on her.

The young woman quickened her pace and ducked into the tent of her mother-in-law, not lifting her eyes up to see Amalur's face. Her husband had just been brutally murdered, and it hurt to think that perhaps the kind lady was blaming it on her. She liked Amahur; for the good lady had taught her much to help her become Zerui and fit in-but now the whole tribe probably wanted her gone. Too bad she had decided to stay.

Just then her gaze lifted, and her breath caught in her throat. He was there, as handsome as she remembered with his fiery hair streaming over his shoulders. Renna noted with some pleasure that his skin was even paler than hers, then shrugged uncomfortably as her heart stuttered within her. The weaver reminded herself that they were both married in some way, and then shook her curls. She couldn't help it if seeing him brought a surge of joy. It was a pale face, a person who would sympathize with her and speak Scalian and be a good Christian and most of all, someone who would relieve the awful loneliness of her new career as a Zerui concubine.

She started towards him, then promptly tripped over a water jar that was lying in the way and blushed up to the roots of her hair. Still, she simply moved it aside and rushed to the prisoner with shining eyes. "Guardsman MacKenna! I'm so glad to see you; don't worry, the old chief is dead and the new one won't sacrifice you. My husband won't. Are you hurt at all?"

Aiden had been prepared to die.

He had rushed to protect his mother and father's house, and seen them safely locked inside, before he had taken on a fearsome older warrior, his face distorted beneath the paint they wore. This one had better weapons than most, and Aiden's natural advantage--his height--had been of no use against greater numbers. Cornered, disarmed, he'd looked up into mad eyes and offered up one last prayer--that no others be killed--and then everything had gone black.

How surprised he had been to wake up in a horse-smelling tent, with a throbbing lump on his head and one of his legs shackled (in bronze) to a stake, but otherwise unharmed.

A man who had introduced himself as Jaun Hibai, their chieftain, had spoken to him in heavily accented Scalian. Aiden had gathered that he was a sacrifice, though this was not, from what he knew, common practice. It was obvious the man was mad, maybe all barbarians were mad, they certainly all looked it.

And then he'd been let free, and a kind-faced older barbarian woman--their women could not be so bad, Aiden was of the opinion that women tended to be generally Good and worth defending--had let him free and spoken to him in a little Scalian. She had let him clean himself and given him new clothes, as his were sweat- and blood-stained.

Now he was here, and things grew more and more surreal.

"Renna? We all thought you were..." Dead, or, he realized, taken as a whore for the barbarians. Not far wrong. Husband? "Has one of their men--" He seized her hand, searching her face, wondering if she had been infected with barbarian madness, or worse. "I am fine, but what are you doing here? Let me take you home at once. You cannot trust these people, believe me." She was so innocent, prone to look adoringly at anyone who showed her a bit of kindness--what the barbarians might have done to take advantage of that--Aiden swallowed bile.

His hand was touching hers, and Renna found her thoughts blanking out for a moment. He'd never touched her before. But she forced herself to look away from his eyes so she could actually focus on what he was saying to her, and inwardly winced. It was humiliating to have to admit this to him, of all people, but then he was genuinely worried about her. She could see his concern, and the feeling was wonderful. Renna gazed very intently at a pot sitting on the stones ringing the fire, studying its contours as though it was the most fascinating thing on the planet. She did not realize that her welcoming smile had completely faded.

"....I'm a concubine to the chief. He says I'm a wife; only lesser rank, but he...he..."

No, she didn't want to think about that. The truth was too painful. Renna wrenched her gaze back to the man offering to take him home, and smiled feebly. "No one else has touched me, though, and-and-they're not bad. They don't trust me. My green eyes. They think I'm a witch. And Ema said he'd take me home, but I-I can't go home now. Papa and Mama would take me back but-"

She was losing track of what she was saying. "It's too much shame. There's no future there. Nothing but a loom for me, and people staring and whispering about the girl who was raped by a Baskari man. I couldn't even go to church and find peace."

She was talking differently. Baskari. Like most border town residents, Aiden knew what the Baskar called themselves, but her pronunciation was different. She talked differently. How long had she been gone? A month, two?

"He..." Aiden swallowed convulsively. "He raped you?" His hand automatically made for his sword, but he didn't have it. In doing so he dropped Renna's hand. And noticed he'd done so quickly, almost as if burned. For shame, he told himself brutally, it isn't her fault.

But, thinking about it, he had to admit. She might be right. Their little town wouldn't be unprejudiced toward her. Still. "People will understand," he said at last. "These barbarians have just made you think the way they do. If you come home, I'm sure everything will be fine. It's not safe here, Renna, you cannot seriously think that these godless people..." He trailed off. She was even wearing their clothing, he noted. She looked very different; even her hair was loose, in barbarian fashion, and her skin was tan. How strange that now he felt timid and off-balance, as though she were the older one protecting him--why that sudden feeling? He shook it off. He was right, of course, the main thing was to get her back.

She didn't miss how quickly he dropped her hand. Renna looked at him with hurt in her eyes, but she kept calm-although she was already shaking her head. "I miss home, very much. But who would understand? What man would take me to wife now? I couldn't keep it a secret. I could go back to wearing pretty dresses and keeping out of the sun and eating normal food and praying with everyone else, but it wouldn't do a lick of good. Because I could never be happy when one of them were killed, and -nobody- would understand that."

Her expression became pleading. "He raped me, yes, but he felt bad about it. He didn't understand what sex is to us. The don't have the same rules we follow; he didn't know that a Thiasan maiden is modest and, and-oh, he didn't know! Izotz cares for me. He keeps me safe and tries so very hard to behave like I wish he would. He's said that I matter to him, and he doesn't lie. He won't say he loves me, because he doesn't, but he will say what's true and he's not godless. None of them are godless; they have a god. It's wrong, of course, but I say my prayers every night and I'm teaching him who God really is. They don't know who we worship. That's all. It's not their fault their ignorant of Christ. If I stay I might...."

She trailed off into a whisper, marveling that she'd spoken so coarsely before a man. "I'm sorry, I don't like to be so...crude about things." Like sex. She was talking to Aiden about sex. This was getting humiliating. "I just...have been so...lonely. I'm forgetting how I ought to speak to a gentleman."

Now Aiden was blushing, red to the roots of his hair. It was a curse of his complexion, this easy flush, and he recalled how Eleanor used to tease him about it, then banished the thought of her to the back of his mind, where it would pain him all day, like a toothache. He missed her... he would never, ever forget who had killed her.

"Renna, these people kill our families, our loved ones," he said, voice tight, leaning closer to her, all thoughts of propriety forgotten. "You may try to do God's work converting them, but others have tried, real missionaries, and they've all failed, or been killed," he emphasized, taking her by the shoulders in the heat of the moment, albeit very gently. A guiding hand, not a forcing one, he could not force her into anything after how these barbarians had treated her.

Behind him, the barbarian woman cleared her throat.

"Renna, are you all right?" she said pointedly.

Aiden blushed once more and stepped back. He felt at a loss.

Renna flushed too and also stepped back, staring at her feet as she remembered who was with them. "...You mustn't touch me." The command was spoken gently. "I belong to him, so you mustn't touch me." She switched to Baska then. "Yes, I'm all right."

The weaver drew circles in the floor with her toe, wondering what to say. Aiden was blushing. What had she done to make him blush? He must be emabarrassed for her sake, that was all. She had spoken bluntly. But so had he, and something about he said roused a faint ire in her. Both sides were so stupid! Why was she the only one who would even make an effort to see things from everyone else's point of view?

"We kill their loved ones and families too. And they were here first. This war is stupid. It only brings pain to good people."

She met his eyes then, looking at him longingly. "You can't get me out anyway. You don't know the way, and there are sinkholes. Wait, and Izotz will take you home. I can't go. I can't bear to take more shame than I already have. And I don't worry about dying."

Aiden bit back a curse and stepped away from Renna, then paced the length of the tent, his hands locked behind his back, watching the barbarian woman. His heart was in turmoil. He thought of John Mochrie, a gentle, decent man. How he must miss his daughter! For Aiden to come back, without her, to bring the news that she had gone mad and chosen to stay with the barbarians, it was too much for him to bear.

"Think of your family," he burst out at last, turning back to Renna, ignoring the chastising glance thrown at him by Amalur. He had to admit he was grateful to her for her compassionate treatment, but even that smacked of... something--she had given him their clothing. As if the tribe were going to swallow him up too, the way it had swallowed up Renna. It frightened him. Aiden disliked mysteries, and he disliked fear. While he was brave in battle, against nuances of this kind he was at a loss; he had never, of course, encountered a situation like this before.

"I admit to confusion. If the problem is that you are--are--" Delicacy stopped him from commenting upon the possibility that Renna was with child. "Look, I'm only saying that it's more dangerous here than back home, we won't be on the front for long if the king's army presses forward--" He shut his mouth. He could not share the details of the Thiasan mobilization with barbarians in the room--was he mad? But he couldn't leave Renna here, every honorable nerve in his body cried out against it. "If you don't come home," he finished softly, "I'll have to explain it to them--your family." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, feeling defeated. "Believe me, Renna, if I thought you knew what was best for you, but you've been among the--the Baskar so long, and been through so much pain..."

She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling. Why did he have to mention her family to her? She'd been doing so well about being brave, but now she had nothing to do but weep. Her heart ached far too strongly to allow her to do anything else. Renna spoke through her tears, her voice shaking and cracking with very sob.

"I miss them so much. It's so lonely here; I've taken to telling my secrets to the trees because no one else wants to listen. But, Aiden! Why can men never understand? Why can I use all my words and all my tears and always come up empty? Still. I will try. All I wished out of my life was a good husband and children of my own. That's all. And now I cannot bear to have a man's hands on me, usually. No one would even offer. I can have my loom and my children here but if I were to go home-"

She looked at him accusingly. "Well, Aiden MacKenna, tell me truly. Would YOU marry me?"

Aiden stepped back, totally flabbergasted by her comment. She was either playing a game with him or being very straightforward. Aiden wasn't an idiot. He knew Renna was sweet on him, but he had always seen her as a younger sister to be protected, or, to be honest, a bit of a nuisance. And it made his skin crawl to think of one of the barbarians having touched her. He knew in his heart that he wouldn't.

"You can't--" He bit off the words you can't do this to me. If it came to it, and he lied, and he saved her, would taking her home and marrying her be any worse than what had happened to her here? Well, no, it would be better. "This isn't the time to ask something like that, Missus Mochrie. I swear to you that you would be able to find a husband, but that can't be your only interest, your only concern, fear--I don't--" He stuttered to a halt. "I cannot convince you to do something against your will, and that's what separates me from the barbarians, but I'll tell you, I'm at my wits' end." He pulled at handfuls of his hair. "If I had been given the chance to save Eleanor--" A fleeting look of pain, which he swallowed. "But there's nothing I can do. The choice is yours."

He tipped his head down. He felt a coward; he'd evaded her question.

"Eleanor's dead?"

The words rang out roundly, filling the tent with the tones that came with shock. Renna stared at him and lifted her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes widening. Oh, dear. No wonder he was stuttering so awkwardly. She'd put her foot in her mouth without even realizing it. "Oh, my. I'm-Guardsman MacKenna, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't mean-I wasn't asking....I mean, that was hypothetical."

She firmly quenched the hope that threatened to spill over in her heart. He'd promised her that she could find a husband? He'd thought she was asking him to marry her? As if she'd ever be that bold, with anyone! But he'd promised. Perhaps he really meant that....no. No no no no no. Renna looked over to Amalur in an agony of indecision, but she already knew that the Baskari woman would be no help to her. It was Renna's turn to pace, and she did so with her hands clasped behind her back. What would she do now? Now, that he had promised. He never broke his word; it was one of the things she loved best about him.

The girl took a moment to gaze outside the flap of the tent, and shook her head sadly before she came back in and looked at him. "Tonight, there is a funeral I must attend. My friend's daughter, only a child....it will be too late to travel anywhere then, and I must stay for her. She's been so kind to me. I'll give you an answer tomorrow."

Tonight, she resolved. I will see how Izotz is with me tonight, and then I really will decide. Once and for all. The weaver already knew that she wished to provoke him, to get him to say -something- on the matter, something that didn't come out of a desire to make her stop crying. She might even go so far as trying to seduce him, just to see. If nothing happened, then, she would go home with Aiden. Maybe something could happen there. Renna glanced at Aiden of the blue eyes, but her heart had already seen and catalogued the way he'd let her hand fall from his.

"...I must go now, I don't wish to make them suspicious of me. Eat well, and get a good night's sleep, and I will be here in the morning. Thank you for your offer."

She gave him a quiet smile, and all at once had vanished out the flap. She really had stayed too long. People mistrusted her already.

The sun was setting, and Izotz, now the chieftain, had to perform the funerary rites. He spoke a few words of prayer to Eguzki as he lit the fire beneath Idoya, and then his father. Oihana was quietly sobbing in Arnas's arms, but, he noted with relief, she didn't run forward to her daughter's pyre. That had happened once, and it was always embarrassing for everyone. Embarrassing because it was so sad.

When he finished praying over his father's body, he turned to speak to the people.

His remarks were brief.

"I think we should all think on Hibai," he said into the resounding quiet. Dusk crept over the grass, and seemed to draw them all closer together. "We should think on our tribe, and what is best for us. I think we should be Zerui again, not something else. I respected my father; we all did, I think, but I believe he was losing his soul toward the end. It can happen to the best. Who knows why Eguzki draws some of our souls back too early? His passing is a blessing, for him, and for us, and a sign that this tribe has seen enough violence. In the end it consumed even the chief. There will be no more raids. No sacrifices. We will go to the Summer Gathering and speak to the Warlord. We have fought for the right to be Zerui. Now I say, we must be Zerui, be part of the whole tribe, and not fear to be a part of it. If the interlopers attack, we will be protected, because we are Zerui."

Izotz shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them. The younger men were nodding, but some of the oldsters seemed to disapprove. Still, no one spoke against him. "I see Hibai's passing--my father's passing--not as a death, but as a rebirth. We are in our winter. Therefore, I do not want us to waste our time mourning him. I will wear mourning for three days, and then it will be over. He is with Eguzki."

Then, looking at Oihana, Izotz straightened his back.

"He is with Eguzki partly in punishment for taking the life of a girl-child." He had not wanted to say this earlier, but it had to be said. "He committed a great crime while his spirit was mostly gone. We must mourn Idoya, a beautiful child, skilled at hunting and weaving, beloved by her mother and the tribe. Respect Oihana alab'Gaizka's mourning." He spoke formally about her, granting her respect not usually accorded to murroi-emaztes.

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed everyone. No one lingered but Oihana, who would watch until her daughter was gone, and Arnas, and Renna.

Izotz moved to one side to watch the fire flickering around his father. His mother knew better than to bother him when he was like this; she had left, too.

Slowly, closing his eyes, Izotz sank down to his knees--far from Oihana and Arnas, whose grief was more honest--and starting to cry, in harsh sobs, his hands over his face so no one would see.

Izotz was crying.

Renna had stayed at the fringes during the funeral, as was her custom in everyday life as well, and had simply observed the grief of her friends without daring to enter the rest of the circle and not truly wishing to see a human body being devoured by flames. The smell was bad enough, and to think of seeing little Idoya!-

But at long last the crowds of Hi-no, Izotzi, now- had left, leaving only Oihana and her lover Arnas, and Izotz, who just stared into the flames. She'd ached to go to him, but had held herself back for the sake of his pride, and that was when she'd seen him crumple. It was an utter shock to think of her stolid Izotz shedding tears for any reason, and at the same time completely comforting. The human heart she'd suspected was in his body, after all-he just didn't wish to show it, for pride, and probably for fear of making himself vulnerable. Renna felt her own heart pick up speed at this revelation, but still she said nothing and kept to the shadows. She would give him a minute or two to have his tears, and then she would go to him.

The girl passed the time by looking up at the stars and blinking away the wreathing smoke, but when a second glance showed her that her husband was still on his knees, she could bear it no more. Renna stepped over to him, very softly, and knelt behind him to wrap her arms around his shoulders. She said nothing, not wishing to shame him in his tears, but tightened her hold into a crushing embrace and she pressed a kiss into his hair. Her man was a boy, after all.

Izotz knew it was Renna when she came up to him, though he didn't open his eyes. Her smell and the feel of her arms around him had become familiar in the months he'd known her. Usually he would have felt strange crying into the arms of a murroi-emazte, but--there was no one else around. So he buried his face in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. His body hardly moved, though he couldn't stop crying for several minutes.

It wasn't only that he missed his father. It was that he had suddenly been thrust into a world far larger, and far colder, than any he had ever before encountered. The underpinnings of his life were falling away.

At last he pulled away, his back stiffening, and swiped an arm across his face. He was careful to avert his eyes from Oihana and Arnas; Oihana's suffering, he felt, meant his was invalid, even immoral.

"My apologies," he said, his voice grating on the residue of a sob. "I thought you were leaving? You didn't need to stay, least of all to comfort me."

She shook her head and lifted up a hand to brush at his tears. What could she say to that? "Of course I had to stay. Part of my heart is here, whether I wish it to be or not. And don't apologize. It's perfectly okay for you to cry, in front of me or in secret. He was your father."

Renna emphasized the word 'father', as if that explained everything. she then moved around to the front and tilted her head to look up into his eyes, hesitating a moment. "About leaving. Um. Izotz, I really feel terrible about this, right now-but there is no time. No time at all. If I could wait to tell you this I would but-the prisoner in the tent, wants me to go home with him." She faded out. "...He promised to marry me. Just to get me to go back. And I find....that I don't....really....like the thought, as much as I used to. Please, may we..."

She looked up at the sky, afraid to meet his eyes. "May we go somewhere very quiet, tonight, and just....." He was too hard to talk to. So she put her hand into his and looked at him hopefully, begging him to find the meaning in the words she couldn't say.

Izotz looked at her blankly. He was almost too wrung out to feel anything anymore, and his usual protective shell had clanged into place around him, but he did feel the stab of jealousy. But--she didn't want to go back with the man? Izotz had known that was what would happen, he had known it, and for once he felt disappointed rather than vindicated that his suspicions had been founded on something real.

"I'm not sure what you're asking," he said at last. "Excuse me if I'm a little slow right now, it's--" He waved a hand vaguely, encompassing the situation. If she was talking about sex--and Izotz was pleased to see that the rumors of the lack of desire suffered by interloper women was totally unfounded--she would have to wait. Part of his mourning meant that for the three days he had promised, he wouldn't engage in carnal pleasures or drink wine. "You want to stay, even though you know it's dangerous, and even though your people will have a husband for you if you go back?" He felt a strange, wild pride at this, but attempted to hide it.

"I didn't think I would, but-" She scuffed her foot. "He looked at me like I was mad when I defended you, and everyone else, and said that I wished harm to none of you and that, well, I thought you were better than everyone else thinks you. And then I told him that you-that I was-"

Renna bit on her lip and stared at her feet, shaking her head slowly from side to side. How could she phrase this without hurting his feelings? He really hadn't known how she viewed it. He'd never been taught so. The girl tried tentatively. "Well, you know, your wife. And he dropped my hand like the thought burned him. Like it was MY fault!" She shuddered. "I've worshipped him for years, Ema. Years. And even now I'm trying to convince myself that I imagined it, but I saw what I saw. And it hurts. Aiden's a good person, really, but, if he feels that way, everyone else will too. And no one but father, mother, and siblings would understand me if I were sad that any Zerui were hurt. Here, everyone will understand that I weep for Thiasans. I just-"

Here she paused. "I do miss home, very much. But one thing will sway me one way or the other. Or rather, one person. Would you...like me...to stay?"

Izotz paused. She would stay if he wanted her to stay? Well, he could tell her he didn't. It would be a lie, but...

But how could he presume to know what was better for her? He'd always thought the Zerui were the ones in the right, anyway. And now she was agreeing with him. The Thiaans and their customs were barbaric indeed. Or maybe, he thought, feeling seasick with horror, she, like so many, had simply been convinced by Hibai. Or by him.

But. Was the way to solve all of this to lie again? No. No, that was all.

"I would like you to stay," he said stiffly, not looking at her. If he did, he would show her the softness in his eyes, and he couldn't manage to do that.

Frustration rankled in her heart. He'd said it, exactly what she wanted to hear, but it wasn't right. It wasn't right at all! A cold "Yes, I want you." What good would that do? He could cry for his father, but he couldn't even muster up a tone for her sake?

All at once she yanked at his hand and whirled him to face her, fire flashing in her eyes. "Izotz, you say that. Now tell me why. If you truly want me to stay, tell me why. I can't just take words at face value anymore, because words without any heart in them mean nothing to me. Do you not trust me, that you tell me nothing?"

"Why? Renna, I--" Izotz ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know why. Reason has nothing to do with how people feel--that's what I've always been taught, and that's what I believe. The women who ask why someone loves them are not asking that, all they're really asking is for praise. That's why I never talk about how I feel, because that makes it not real, it... it is insincere." He shook his head, frustrated, then looked at her. "If that is what you want, I can't give it to you. I can say that I want you here, and that ought to mean more to you than if I were to fall at your feet and say that I loved you, or worshiped you, or that you're beautiful, which has in fact nothing to do with anything."

He gritted his teeth, trying to understand how to phrase this. "I am who I am. You've known me for months, and this is--this is it. If you want to stay, you can stay, but... what you would stay for is to be with me, and nothing would change... if you want things to change, I can't promise--I am who I am--then you should go. But if you want to stay with me, and believe that I'm honest--and honesty isn't something you can prove with words, either..." Izotz struggled with what to say, and tentatively brought one hand up to touch her shoulder. "That's all I can tell you, Renna."

He'd said the wrong thing. Renna's arms snapped up to fold across her chest and she glared at him with fire sparking in her eyes. The girl ignored his little touch, anger and disbelief weaving themselves together to make her stand as one touched with divinity. "To speak your feelings is to make them insincere? You are an idiot!"

It was the first time she'd even insulted him, but he'd managed to rouse her temper. Much worse than quick and violent flares, he'd lit the white, still anger that was slow to rise and slow to die, and she kept flaming on. "If I say that I am sad and I miss my home, that makes it false, does it? Or if I were to say that I thought you strong and handsome, it would be a lie simply because I said it? I like that! And maybe women who ask why someone loves them do want praise, but I see nothing wrong with that either. It's not horrible to be told every now and then that there's something good about you, especially when no one else sees fit to. Look at Oihana and Arnas! Anyway I wasn't asking why you loved me, I was asking why you wanted me to stay! What is it? Is it your pride as a man? Do you just enjoy my body? Do you want someone here to cook for you? Who's going on about l-"

Her eyes widened and she looked at him, gasping for breath as his words slowly sank in. Renna paled and lifted her hand to her mouth, and then let out a very small and very sheepish 'oh'.

Then all at once she laughed and flung herself at him, catching him around the neck again and wrapping her legs around his torso as she laughed into his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

The weaver choked on her giggles and waited a moment until they could stop, then tightened her hold around him with a crushing squeeze. "People change, Ema. Don't tell me you won't change when you've changed from a boy to a man right before my eyes, and definitely don't tell me you won't change when I've changed all but my God and my eyes for your sake. That will upset me."

Izotz was totally taken aback by her torrent of words, at least some of which--if only because he had so much trouble understanding them--must have been, he thought, in Scalian. Then she jumped up at him, wrapping her legs and arms around him, and he had to take a few steps back to get his balance.

He kissed her.

When he pulled back, setting her gently onto the ground, his arms still around her waist, he tried to gather his thoughts. "Change is possible," he said at last, "of course. But promising to change is not--is not the right way to be. You cannot care for someone because of what they might be, or what you want to force them to be, or--" He thought fleetingly of Hibai. "--what you imagine them to be. I do want you to stay, Renna. You--just you--even if you do call me an idiot. If you still want to stay with me, just me, even if I am an idiot, well, that makes me happy."

She glowed up at him, a true light finally shining in her face. Renna took the words for exactly as much as they were worth, which she already knew to be a great deal. More than the gold and pretty gowns and rose gardens and castles of her earlier dreams, and certainly more than Aiden's cringing promise of earlier. She made him happy.

"Well, you're the smartest idiot I ever met." The width of her smile made perfect amends for her cutting comment, and she stroked her hand down his cheek. The girl molded herself into his embrace and laughed softly against his chest, then lifted her head back to look up into his eyes. "I'll have your blanket finished by the end of the week."

Renna sealed her answer with a kiss, then let her hand tighten around his. The smile was still there, and it certainly wasn't within her power to banish it, so she simply tilted her head and let it rest on his shoulder in perfect content.