Liz Parker lay curled in her sleeping bag and listened to the singing made by the stream as it danced over the rapids. She smiled as she created the analogy. The sound was musical and she loved it. A yawn broke through the smile and she sternly told herself to go to sleep. Her dad would be waking her up to go fishing with him really early. That was his favorite part of these family camping trips. She closed her eyes and, again, thought, "Music..."

The next thing she knew the music she heard was the blaring of heralds' trumpets as they announced the championship in a jousting tournament. Liz was wearing a dress that would have looked at home on Cinderella at the ball... bright yellow with flowing sleeves. Her hair was braided with jeweled thread. Her eyes followed the knight who wore her favor. The sun gleamed off his polished armor. Then they were in motion. Her champion absorbed some impact from his opponent's lance, but his own lance was true and knocked his rival to the ground. As he retired from the lists he looked her way and she knew he would meet her in the garden that night.

A masked ball ended the festivities. The champion, of course, was an honored guest. He wandered the room, clad in forest green velvet, looking for his lovely lady. The room seemed endless and the crowd suffocating. Suddenly he found himself looking into the laughing brown eyes of a Spanish senorita in deep red. When she realized that he had found her, her natural shyness emerged and she ducked her head, acutely aware of her burning cheeks.

His voice was quiet, "My dance?"

"Certainly." She wondered what he would have said if they had not been setting up groups for a new dance at that moment.

They moved into position and, with a large group of others, danced out the intricate measures of the courtly dance. When she reached him again during the last steps, he said, "My lady..."

She turned and inclined her head toward him.

"Will you walk outside with me for a few minutes?"

"Yes."

They walked through the doors onto the terrace. She turned and faced him. "I do not usually go alone with men I do not know..."

He smiled. "You know me." He removed his mask and bowed with a flourish.

"I do, indeed." She returned the smile with interest.

"Today you allowed me to wear your favor. Tonight I want one thing more."

She tilted her head. "What is that?"

He took her hand and bowed over it. "With your permission..." he planted a kiss in the palm of her hand.

The intimate gesture left her breathless. His eyes stayed on hers. "You, only you, are my chosen lady."

She was about to respond when a voice intruded on the special moment. "Liz! Wake up! It will be dawn before we know it. Those fish are calling our names!"

Liz sat up and hugged her knees to her in the cool light of pre-dawn. It had seemed so real! She repeated the words to herself, "Chosen lady." She loved the sound of that! Then she laughed to herself. What girl wouldn't like to have her own romantic knight in shining armor? Of course, those things only happened in make believe.

She dressed and was just emerging from the tent when she stopped with a gasp.

Her dad was waiting for her with barely restrained impatience. "What is it?"

Liz glanced at him and plunged her hands into her jacket's pockets. "Nothing, Dad. It was just colder than I thought it would be."

A secret smile played over her lips as she followed him. It had taken a while before she realized that the knight was someone she knew... barely. She shook her head. The dream had been fun, but it was doubtful that she would ever be kissing Max Evans.

END