As Conall and I leave the hall after the evening meal, two of his sisters trail after us, teasing me about what I shall wear tomorrow when we all gather for the feis.

"You look best in blue!" Lasairíona announces, linking her arm through mine. "I would wear blue every day if I had your color of hair."

"But your hair is much more lovely," I answer quickly with a smile. "A shade brighter than mine and curly too, quite beautiful!"

"Green is best for a wedding though! It's lucky for making a big family!" her sister Muiriath blurts out, then covers her mouth in a fit of giggles.

"Enough!" Conall takes a swing at her, which deliberately falls short. "Don't you two have anything better to do? You should be preparing yourselves for the feis. Off you go and leave us in peace for a change!"

The girls and I exchange warm hugs and sweet, secret whispers before they amble away, glancing back until Conall and I shut the door behind us. The quiet rooms of our own place within the dun are a solace from the noisy, crowded feasting hall.

Tenderly, Conall unweaves my braids. "Tomorrow will be an important day for Clan MacRoth," he murmurs thoughtfully as he nuzzles my neck.

"And for you and me as well," I reply, toying with a silver comb. Admiring the delicate inlay of seashells and tiny gems, I wonder how anyone ever becomes accustomed to this prosperous way of life. I look at the comb and my eyes are drawn to the red scars on the wrists of the hands that hold it, the marks left by the shackles that once chained me in slavery to Keu of Niall.

Conall takes the comb from me. Somehow he must know what I was thinking. With one finger he lightly traces the scars as if his touch could banish them. "Tomorrow we will bind each other's wrists with silken ribbons." He lifts my hands to his lips for kisses that melt every sorrow.

"How long have we waited for that day, love? It seems like forever. And we ran halfway across Eire!"

Our laughter is easy now that all threats to happiness have been put at a distance. We recall and share bits and pieces of the journey, amusing each other with little stories of our adventures that now seem funny to us as we relax by the crackling hearth behind the secure walls of the family stronghold. Our hasty departure from An Caidreamh Suiri, the wicked outlaw band of Magh Croimor, even the menacing pursuit by Keu all change from fearsome to comical when we remember them on this night.

Conall chuckles when I describe how the horse Summer Isle stole from Keu turned out to be such an unpredictable creature, constantly challenging him with new tricks and fits of temper.

"You know, we would not be together here today if not for the loyalty and courage of Summer Isle and Valeria," I remark with a sigh. "Such fine friends are worth more than all the riches in the world. I hope they will stay with us for awhile, although I expect Valeria will join the Picts now, wherever their next destination may be."

Nodding solemnly, Conall frowns at mention of the Picts, probably thinking of the dark queen and her strangely mixed entourage - especially her hot-blooded Irish consort.

His frown signals my turn to kiss away a lover's troubles. "Your father and the brehons will make the right decision about the proposed alliance. Set your worries aside for now, beloved. Think now only of what joy will be ours tomorrow!" I caress Conall's wrinkled brow, delighting in the spark that kindles in those knowing eyes.