AYLETH
Ayleth frowned and pushed him away immediately. "I do not see what is funny," she said, hurt that he took her feelings and secrets so lightly.
"No, Ayleth, I'm sorry," he whispered, catching her wrist and pulling her back, into his chest. He hugged her, a sweet embrace, setting his chin at her ear. But his shoulder still shook.
"You're laughing at me!" she cried, tears threatening.
"No, I'm not. I promise. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the situation. The irony is so bittersweet… dear Lord, it's in moments like these I know the Creator has a sense of humor."
"What does the Goddess have to do with this?" she snapped. They both froze, realizing they'd been speaking normally, here in the dark of the stable, where any of the stablehands might here. They stood quietly, still embracing for a moment, Etan scanning the dark behind her, Ayleth's ears pricked for footsteps or voices. But nothing came.