Do you wish to return to Cambridge, Em?" he said. "Because…

““Do you wish to return to Cambridge, Em?" he said. "Because if that is the case, you need only say the word. I suppose I could return to teaching--- perhaps I could do both, or install a regent here, to rule in my stead. If there is one thing I will not stand for, it is for you to be unhappy---" "No, indeed!" I exclaimed. He appeared to have worked himself up into a proper speech, so I put my hand over his mouth. And then-- my initial thought was that this would be more efficient than arguing with him--- I pulled his face to mine, and kissed him. As I had guessed, he forgot all about what he had been saying, and pulled me closer. His lips tasted like the salt the servants had sprinkled onto the coffee--- quite agreeable. I stopped thinking, something I rarely do, and for a moment there was only the hum of crickets and rustling of night creatures in the trees. He drew back and touched my cheek, his dark eyes searching mine. A flickering, moon-colored glow had appeared above us--- he had summoned a light. "I mean it," he murmured. So not quite so forgetful, then. The light caught caught on the silvered flowers in his hair and made him look even more inconveniently otherworldly than he already did, but I found that when I focused on small, familiar things, like the way his mouth came up slightly higher on the left side, and how his green eyes leaned more yellow than blue, I was able to disregard this. "I know," I replied. "I have brought myself here, Wendell--- I am not some poor maiden who stumbled unawares through a ring of mushrooms.””

— Heather Fawcett