"You couldn't, Lyla. But if your father could be here today and know what you know about Narf, do you think he would want you to marry him?"
"No ... I guess not. But Lord Narf loves me in his own way, I think—and that's more than anyone else does."
Then her tone changed and she said, "I'm so glad that you're here today, Dale—I'm glad that there is someone who cares at least a little about what happens to me."
On her face was a poignant longing for someone to love and comfort her. It seemed to him, now beyond any doubt, that there could never be anything for him in his career but loneliness. How different the warm love of Lyla would be from the cold austerity of the military and its endless succession of weapons and killing—
He moved, to sit beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. "Lyla," he said, "I want to tell you—"
"Dale...." The word was a despairing sob as her composure broke and she held tightly to him, crying, her voice coming muffled as she pressed her face against his chest. "Help me, Dale! How can I marry that sadistic beast when it's someone else I can't live without—and he doesn't even know I love him!"
"But he does!" He hugged her closer, "He does know, and he loves you even more than you love him."
"Are you sure?" She raised a tear-stained face, hope like sunshine through clouds on it. "Are you really sure Val loves me, after all?"
"Val?"