            "A piece of me will die regardless," she whispered back, sinking in to the cradle of his palm, pushing her chest into his hand. "When the prophecy is fulfilled, and you—you play your part, it will not matter if my magic is whole or not. Because I won’t be. I won’t. But if you marry me," she murmured, pressing up onto her tiptoes, touching her nose to his rough jaw, "at least the rest of our world will have a chance."