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"It's the gloaming," he said softly, keeping his back to her. "Come sit with me."

She walked to him and he helped her onto the ledge, holding her tight. The drop below was more than fifty-five meters onto the rocky crags and raging water.

"Gloaming?" she asked.

"Twilight. The time of day immediately after the sun dips into the horizon." He looked at her, his eyes sultry and far off. "It's special. The intertwining of the sun and the moon. A lover's embrace."

Purple and dark blue hues spilled into the castle, enhancing the royal remains of the building, once a grand and noble edifice.

"It's fleeting," she said a bit bitterly.

"No, lass, on the contrary. It happens every day. Every day they come together to join their light, even if it is for just a brief moment, steadfast."

They sat silent until the darkness took over. "I'm sorry," he said, "for everything that has happened."

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't shoot him."

"Aye, but I shouldn't have let him go back outside." His hand gently rubbed her arm.

"You couldn't have stopped him. He would have left anyway," she said. The wind whistled through the cracks in the stones, whispering barren secrets of the past, mingling with their own.

"I could have, but I didn't. He was a foolish lad, and I was angry and jealous."

"Jealous?" she questioned.

"Aye. I was jealous that you were concerned about him." He pulled her closer to him.

"Why?"

"Because you're mine."

"You shouldn't say that. The marriage isn't real," she said defensively.

"It has nothing to do with the marriage. You would be mine with or without it." He held her firmly, possessively.

"I'm not yours."

"Aye but you are, like the sun and the moon." Funny he would have the same thoughts she did earlier. The two giant orbs in the sky, timeless from beginning to end.

"Do you think he knew he died? The moment in time when he went from being alive to dead?" she asked carefully.

"Ah, the place between the known and the unknown." He shifted on the ledge, leaning his back against the wall of the window so she could rest on his chest. The mood shifted to a more informal feeling, not so intense.

"Yes, that place. Would he have recognized it?" She gave herself over to the safety of his embrace, relishing the feel of his arms around her.

"The only thing we have is the present—the now. We are always dying, my darling. Moving from one moment of existence to the next. It happens whether we want it or not." He kissed the top of her head.

"I never thought of it like that. Death with every tick of the clock. It sounds a tad depressing."

"Not depressing. I'll use your word, liberating." She felt her cheeks flame and he kissed her, recognizing her embarrassment, before he continued. "Shh," he whispered. "It's liberating in that the choice is ours, how we choose to engage the process. We can choose to accept and embrace it or resist and despair."

"And the sun and the moon. How does that work for them if they die every moment?"

He laughed softly. "Clever lass. The sun and the moon are constant. They choose the lover's embrace every evening. You see, one makes you fearless, the possibilities in life limitless. The other, fearful."

"I'm afraid I'm fearful," she said, thinking of everything that had happened to her. Remembering Sokolov's painful knife. His energy which dwelt in her.

"No, on the contrary, you're fearless. You chose to leave a life behind. To search out happiness. That took courage, and yes, the death of a part of yourself, but you've come out stronger."