Spring.

I met my mate in the beginnings of our youth.

In the place where the pine needles were ever-growing, and the sun was hot on our backs.

As a group of seven Fae females spread out in the field plucked strawberries from the earth.

My feet sunk into the moist grass below, not yet leached of its moist from the sun, and then shaded my eyes from the silver flecks of the Great Emerald Lake. We were far enough from the Manor and its grounds to enjoy the flower and birdsong nature surrounding us, and more so what little pleasant thoughts one could have away from where duty was concerned.

"Leesa." My sister pulls on my braid, pointing to my feet, "you stepped on one again."

I grin impishly at her disgusted face, "Oh no."

I did step on a strawberry in one of my happy daydreams, perhaps that is why the earth is so moist, and that is the only unpleasant thought I have of it. The earth, the dirt, worms, grass, and animals were all a soothing balm to me, my sister seemed to only see the sweat and back-break behind it all, too used to our years in plush and grace back home, but the ever-spring filled my hungry senses. I thirsted for more of it.

"You shouldn't ruin your dress so Leesa."

"Nothing brings me more joy," I answer, as I reach down to inspect the gushing damage to my otherwise green hued feet, "I think I made it obvious, I don't remember a time where I was happier than here."

"Compose yourself Leesa," is her reply when I am otherwise busy.

"Why?"

I feel the shadow more than see it, and it envelops, shades the space around me.

The intruder eclipses the sun and drives my sister and our Fae female companions in an uproar so unlike to the calm morning I had expected to have.

Tamina, a female of the Spring Court is the first to speak. "High Lord. Welcome."

My sister repeats in just enough reverence. "My Lord." That steals away my peace, as I straighten my back at the mention of intruders, especially a noble one at that.

He responds in kind, "Ladies."

The golden fair shadow has the voice like warm honey dripping on sweet bread, it ripples through me, molten light made new in my bones, and I stop the shiver from continuing to place that it should not, refusing to stare at the shape of his lips, "please continue," he commands, his eyes subtly hinting the strawberry baskets in our arms.

"Of course, High Lord. These are for the ceremony later, our Vallahan guests wanted to join us with the picking," Tamina remarks as if I have not been dallying the day away daydreaming rather than picking.

"They are free to that and more," is his clipped response.

I feel at loss for words to add my own words, flicking the smashed strawberry from my hands before he sees it. Perhaps it's because his presence is so different from the bright white light and dense black forest of my homeland. He is so unlike the quick-talking and rather precocious Vallahan men back home, dressed to work, work the plentiful fields, rather than philander another noble's time with gossip and business.

He has not come alone.

"Your females are so productive Tagnar. I was surprised Maris and Leesa came in the first place," Vanir is with him, dressed to impress in flamboyant deep maroon and bright white, and his eyes are hungry for my sister. Just as they had for so many annoyingly long years. "Why is it that so many fine females enjoy Tagnar's Court and not our company? Do we bore you ladies?"

I puff out my chest to meet the gaze of a Fae male that I have not the pleasure of meeting his gaze, and then glare right back at Vanir, "we aren't here to entertain you Vanir. Begone, and bother someone else."

"No one was speaking to you Leesa," he says in that dastardly irritable tone I have gotten over decades ago when I was put a child. His fancy for my sister meant little regarding being pleasant to me, and that only made it easier to prove him the worst choice for her.

"That doesn't mean I am going to let your boss us around. I am not going to let you ruin our morning Vanir," because that is certainly his intention when he came in search, panting after us as soon as we were out of sight.

"He certainly will not." Says the voice like honey, and I dare another look at the mysterious High Lord, and this time find him waiting.

I give myself the chance to really appraise him, to note the spell weaved in his emerald green eyes, and the tense jaw that seems to only grow when our eyes meet.

It is sinful the way he looks to us females, mighty in his title he may be, but annoyingly calm in his attitude, and yet deliciously shirtless to the point where my cheeks blush… he so tan! My brain screams. He must be from the lands that I have come to love, and with so much sinew and golden muscle I am sure that he has worked the land with his own mighty hands. He did not look like a High Lord, not a farmer, he held himself as if he was a… conqueror, a conqueror of the land, and I…

"Come," is his command to me. The green in his eyes grew fierce. "Come with me Lady Leesa."

He couldn't mean? That I follow him, that I be commanded as if I was some lowborn female?

A nudge from my older sister is all the incentive I need to remember myself.

"No."