"Did your man parts fall off?" she whispered.
"Nay," he replied, briefly amused by the question at such a time. "Are you thinking of sweet cakes?"
"Not this time. I'm thinking . . . I can't imagine a better way to go than in your arms," she breathed.
The words thawed a piece of him he was not prepared to acknowledge. "You will not die, Naia. But I will."
The arms around him tightened in response. "Would you tell me your name then?"
His breath caught. His name? She dared ask such a sacred question at a time like this? Even his betrothed did not know his name. The odd stirring was back, the instinct that prevented him from being affronted by the request and instead, seemed to confirm an idea he had barely formed.
His battle-witch could become like the great battle-witch whose name she bore: a warrior queen meant to be at the side of the warrior Knight that united the kingdoms under one rule.
Rarely did he allow himself to consider what came after he conquered the remaining two kingdoms, especially not when he had a queen in waiting. War and battle required all his concentration, and with time running out, he dared not spare his focus for such fanciful thoughts.
With her perfect body beneath him and her warm breath in his ear, he began to regard what happened after the fighting ceased as possible, that they defeated the curse and entered into a time of peace. There was no use for a battle-witch once war stopped - and the idea of bonding her off to another man to ensure an alliance sent a streak of anger through him. He experienced no possessiveness at all for the woman promised him and forbidden need for the one loaned to him by another world.
"If your magic manifests, and we do not die, I will tell you," he whispered. He kissed her neck lightly and then buried his face in her hair and waited.
"Prepare to be disappointed like everyone else in my life," she replied.
The chain groaned loudly - then snapped. For a horrifying moment, they were suspended in midair, at the height of the pendulum's swing.
The Shadow Knight closed his eyes, not yet ready to lose faith in the woman beneath him. He had come too far, risked too much, lost too many, for this to be his end. He was destined to conquer the realm and defeat the curse.
"I am Atreyu Casamir, the last Shadow Knight of Black Moon Draw," he said softly.
They began to fall.
He held his breath and willed her to use the magic in the medallion trapped between their bodies.