My Love and My Land

Disclaimer: Gail Carson Levine is the genius, not I. Ella and Char are her wonderful creations, not mine.

A/N: Everyone who has reviewed The Letter and The Slipper, I LOVE YOU. You are the most fantabulous readers ever. This one's for you! Enjoy!

Prologue

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I tilted my head back and breathed in the heady aroma of the marketplace, realizing afresh just how much I had missed Frell. My spirits couldn't help but lift as I looked around the familiar bustling street, and the lovely sunshine did much to chase away my gloomy thoughts of the following week, when Dame Olga would become Mum Olga and Hattie would resume her tyranny over me.

            It was delightful to be outside and away from Father and his bride-to-be, who were being positively revolting. For the last few days, our manor had been crammed with people removing furniture, tapestries, and silverware. It was nearly empty by now, and the sight of the bare halls had left me feeling thoroughly depressed. Mandy had noticed and, thinking the fresh air would do me some good, sent me to the market to pick up a few things for dinner.

            I whistled as I picked out carrots, tomatoes, mushrooms, and potatoes for stew. When I had finished paying the man at the vegetable stall, I turned away without realizing that my skirt had caught on a splinter sticking out from one of the counter's wooden legs. I shrieked as I felt it tug, lost my balance, swung my arms like a windmill, crashed into someone behind me, and toppled to the ground amid a shower of vegetables.

            So much for finishing school.

            There was an indignant howl of "Watch what you're doing!" from the unfortunate person I had knocked over. I groaned.

            "I'm so sorry," I gasped. "Are you all right?" This was said in the general direction of my hands, which I was watching closely as I scrambled to pick up my scattered vegetables before they could be trampled by passersby.

            "You should be sorry!" the man's voice yelled. "You could have knocked me into the path of a carriage, girl!"

            "I realize that, sir, it's just that my skirt caught –" I was straightening up, speaking toward the ground as I watched myself put the basket over my arm and smooth out my skirt, which now had a large rent in it. At least I could sew well now, I realized, brightening slightly with the realization that my finishing school experience hadn't been a complete waste of time.

            "Look at me when I talk to you, lass!" the irritable voice commanded.

            I raised my head and was finally able to see the victim of my clumsiness. It was a young man with straw-colored hair in his early twenties or thereabouts, and he looked very cross, which might have had something to do with the large amount of mud on his clothes.

            I narrowed my eyes at him. "I have already apologized," I said coolly. "It was an accident, and I'm glad to see you aren't hurt."

            His eyes widened, his glare of annoyance softened and he suddenly looked a bit red in the face and sheepish. "Well, I –"

            "Good day, sir," I said frostily, gave him a grand curtsy, and swept off.

            "Wait!"

            Would this man never stop giving orders? I turned around exasperatedly.

            He took a deep breath. "I'm very sorry I shouted at you, miss," he said formally. "I was having a rather nasty day and I took out my anger on you. It was unfair, I know. Again, I apologize."

            Before I could respond, two young children shoved their way between us, a furious little girl chasing after a boy with an expression of unholy glee on his face and a ragged doll in his hands.  

"Give it here!" she shrieked at him.

"Catch me first!" was his taunting response.

"Go soak your head, dung brain!" she cried, and they vanished from sight into the crowd.

I turned back to the contrite young man, laughing a little. "It's quite all right," I said. "I hope your day gets better. Try a little ground springweed on those clothes; it'll stop them from staining." The clock began chiming three. "Oh! I must be going."

He reached out his hand before I could leave and caught my arm. "Before you go – tell me your name?"

I stared at his hand on my arm, startled. "Ella," I answered. If it hadn't been for the curse, I'd have been speechless. There was a look on his face that was so… well… male that it made me uncomfortable.

"Ella," he said smoothly, taking my hand a bit longer than was necessary. "The name's Lyon, Lyon of Wynderham. Pleased to meet you." His smile was charming.

 Before I could collect my wits to respond, there was a flutter of feathers in the corner of my eye and a parrot settled on my shoulder. I recognized it from the royal menagerie, a big red and blue fellow that must have escaped.

"Go soak your head, dung brain!" he squawked.

My face turned crimson. Oh, no.

"You know," I said breathlessly, "it really is rather hot out here, don't you think? Goodness! I'm feeling very warm. I feel like cooling off."

I broke off babbling, walked straight over to a barrel full of water from the previous night's rain, and dunked my head inside.

"Ah, that's better," I gasped, smiled at Lyon of Wynderham's dumbstruck face, and fled dripping from the market.

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A/N: Hehe, that was fun to write! Review and tell me what you think! Also, I took the title from the line in the book, "But I had to obey – wanted to obey – hated to harm him – wanted to marry him. I would destroy my love and my land." If anyone has any suggestions for a better one (or if you like it as is), let me know, because I think this one is kinda crappy. Thanks for reading! I'm out.

~ST