"Master Richard, the guests have arrived," announced a man wearing the customary suit of a butler.

"Thank you Alfred," The young man was sitting in an armchair reading. Why must they come? He thought to himself. "And why must I always be a gentlemen?" he exhaled to the vacant room.

The grand clock ticked again and again, causing the rhythmic sound to reverberate off the dinning room walls. "Where is he?" Sir Bruce quietly hissed to Alfred.

"He should be here shortly, Sir."

At that very moment the great doors groaned open and the lean figure of Richard emerged, and at that same moment a girl's heart fluttered. "My apologies," He said quietly as he took his seat to the right of Bruce who, as tradition says, was at the head of the long oak table.

"Ah, my son has finally arrived." Every though Bruce was not Richard's blood father, he still intended to call him son and persuaded Richard to call him father.

"Yes, I have." He smiled, "May we begin to eat, I believe that is my reason for coming down and the reason why our guests have come."

Bruce's smile fell at this remake, "Yes, yes. Alfred." He called as if he was a maestro tapping on his stand, and food flooded out at his musical demand.

Richard noticed the girls eyes fixated on him and quickly lifted his fork, hoping to divert her attention.

Bruce began the endless small talk and course after course was served. This will be a long dinner, Richard thought as he felt the girl's eyes focused on him once again.

"Mary, come quick!" Someone shouted.

"What is it?" Another said urgently.

"Garfield found a girl in the woods; she is unconscious." The first shouted back.

"Oh dear," Mary came in view of Garfield holding a slender young woman, "Put her on the bed." And he did so. "Sara, get a washcloth and a bowel of water." And the woman named Sara exited the room.

"Do you know what happened?"

"No, I was riding Phillip and I saw her lying one the ground, I thought she was dead." Just as he had replied Sara reentered.

"Thank you Garfield," He took this as him cue to leave. They began to survey her; she had a very dirty casual dress on and only one riding boot on her left foot. "Oh dear," Mary said again, "Well let us clean her up." They began to undo her dress and sponge away the dirt.

"What to you suppose her name is?" Sara asked as they finished dressing the girl in a clean gown.

"How would I know?" Mary responded while she began to wash the girls dress.

"I don't know, just thought you would make a guess." She said staring at the girl's onyx black hair, it may have been a trick of this light but it seemed to have tints of violet.

"Well…I would say Bethany."

Sara made a face, "Do you have an imagination?"

"What? You asked me to guess. Well what do you think her name is?"

"Raven," she said and after a moment, "Maybe Rachel…"