Chapter 1

The sun peeped through the thick foliage, shedding beams of light on the forest. Wind rustled through the trees, masking the footsteps easily keeping up with mine. Surely, they would hesitate to follow me here, where none but the raving mad or the utterly brilliant dared to enter. Then again, who was I to make that distinction? I managed to blur the fine line between the two at every turn.

Not bothering to look back, I could hear the footsteps behind me as I tried to pad through the trees, ever conscious of the steps silently walking up the path. They were getting closer and closer before abruptly coming to a halt. Now what could it be? I was already late enough as it was, but having to constantly look over my shoulder only slowed me down more.

Where had that ambassador gone? It was true, that I wasn't really listening when my parents rambled on and on about him, but as always it was the duty of the older daughter to find this man.

I knew they must have asked for someone they could marry me off to, and then their work would be complete. Funny though that even those airheaded village girls showered him with noteworthy praise. If the rumors proved true, he would be quite a catch for any of those bumpkins.

No matter how many times I told my parents that if I did marry, it would be someone of my own choosing at a time of my own choosing, it didn't faze them in the slightest. They continued their haphazard search without my consideration. Well, they would not be pleased when they found out that I wasn't searching very hard for the missing ambassador.

I already knew that he was supposed to be here by now and that my parents were naturally afraid that he met with trouble along the way. However, in what shape was anyone's guess. He only had to follow the path. It wasn't like he was delving into the forest like me.

Obviously, the only reason I was out there was to look for the so-called ambassador and redirect him if he was lost. Bumping into him and having some ridiculous romantic encounter was ideal for their purposes. Meanwhile, I would try to evade such a cumbersome situation as much as possible.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my shoulder, harshly dragging me back to reality. I struggled to turn in a vain effort to see my attacker. My fingers latched onto the knife resting in its sheathe at my hip. Before I could even pull it out, a thin, muscular arm wrapped around my waist. Abruptly, I was spun and jerked against a hard chest as a distinctly masculine scent assailed my nose. His hand left my waist, keeping me pinned against him as it slipped up my back.

My head landed against the hollow beneath his throat as his fingers wound themselves in my hair to hold me in place. He successfully cut off my vision except for the thin blade of a hunter's knife and several strands of jet-black hair that tickled my face.

"Don't move," a low voice commanded. "Just answer my questions and you're free to go."

I nodded slowly, thinking that today could hardly get any worse. My hand was already switching from thoughtfully stroking the knife to eagerly fingering the cool scabbard of my sword, itching to set it free.

Smiling slightly, he allowed me to prop my hands up on his chest, so I could face him. The knife stayed against my throat, threatening to slice through the skin. Meanwhile, his other arm fell around my waist to prevent me from falling.

"Good, now, first question. Do you know of the Weasleys?" he asked.

I almost gasped, caught myself, arranged my features in what I hoped were a politely disinterested look, and glanced up at him. Who in the world was he to know that family's name?

I was shocked to see he couldn't be older than nineteen, just a year older than me. Then again, his voice was low for his age. What age? His voice would have lowered enough by now. He flipped the dark hair out of his eyes, never once taking them off mine. The ridiculous shade of green burned into me, but I held his gaze. His mouth crinkled into an amused smile, but it didn't touch the deep emerald. Apparently, he didn't buy my less than convincing attempt to pull a straight face.

I had to struggle to keep my laughter bottled up inside. He looked exactly like the kind of player those village girls would worship on sight. Even now, he looked like he had one eye focused on the knife and one on my spotless clothes that revealed quite a bit of skin. Sighing, my mind rattled off the usual excuses- they were more comfortable, easy to move in, and everyone knew I could stay clean if I chose. My clothes now just proved that.

His face abruptly sobered. The faint hint of amusement was gone from his eyes as fleeting as it had come. I just knew that despite his age, he was dangerous. He moved the blade closer to my neck, until it nicked the skin. A drop of blood rolled down the edge of the blade, landing on my palm. While maintaining my gaze, he brought my hand up, placing the knife blade carefully between my outstretched fingers.

My eyes widened in surprise, I didn't expect to find a knife like this for a while- not many were so high quality that they could leave so precise a cut. I never thought I would see this coat of arms again. I kept my surprise in check and fought to keep my eyebrows from riding up my forehead. Just who was this boy?

This boy had a hunting knife from the town's old magistrate. The only magistrate to be taken out of the histories. It was forbidden to mention his name, let alone carry a weapon with his coat of arms engraved on the hilt.

Feigning disinterest, I replied a bit more sharply than I intended.

"Who? I'm quite sure that I've never heard that name before, I would remember if I ever heard such an odd one. Now, might I ask what you are doing here?"

I immediately knew that was the wrong response. His emerald eyes twinkled with undisguised mischief, but his face remained in that inscrutable mask.

"Very well, I'm the ambassador, and you are without a doubt a Weasley. The looks aren't what I was told they would be, but the way you carry yourself is the same. They used to be known for blacksmiths, back in the day, and weapons masters cropped up every few generations, but nothing came of it. Look at the family now. The women were just as good as the men, but they have fallen behind. Obviously, you grew up the same as any girl, without ever seeing a real blade. I must apologize; this must be a shock for one such as you. A mere girl with no experience of even laying eyes on a blade," he smiled slightly, but his eyes were cold.

Looking down, he saw the knife and sword, eyes widening before he laughed.

"Why bother carrying around these weapons if you are not able to wield said blades? At any rate, if you would be so kind, could you lead the way?" He bowed slightly before looking up expectantly.

Anger coursed through me. Who did he think he was? Who was he to spout lies and half-truths about the family when he knew nothing? Staring at him hard, I tried to figure out who this person was. Did he honestly think I was like other girls? Or that I would take the insults? He was in for a rather rude awakening if that was the case. I spun on my heel and started walking back the way I came. All of a sudden, I stopped and whipped around, sword in my right hand. Raising my sword arm, I elegantly attacked.

His sword snapped up, reflexively blocking my oncoming strike. He pulled away, only to attack, aiming straight for my throat. I dodged the blow, and twisted around so my blade slashed against his with increased ferocity.

We exchanged blows for several minutes, neither of us willing to step back. I stubbornly held my ground until I realized the best way to remedy his lowly image of women. He parried every blow I sent, pushing me back slowly until I allowed my back to graze the bark of a nearby tree.

"That all you got?" he asked bemusedly, raising an eyebrow.

I grinned but didn't respond.

Switching the sword to my left hand, I slammed my sword back into his, continuing the intricate swordplay that I had mastered long ago. My strokes became stronger, cleaner and faster, wearing him out with each blow. I forced to step backwards until his back was to the tree. My sword found its way to his throat and pressed, leaving welts where it slid across the bare skin. Leaning toward him, I reached out and wiped a drop of blood from his throat. My other hand pulled him towards me until our faces were only an inch apart, but the sword remained between us.

"Pray tell, who has no experience?" I whispered in his ear, my breath ghosting across his face.

I leaned closer, looking deep into his emerald eyes, amusing myself by contemplating the number of girls who had lost themselves in those same pools. A thought flitted through my head, and I grinned on the inside. We would see how he put up with this, however fake it was. The player would be disappointing if he really lost himself in his own game.

Keeping the sword in the same place, I reached my other hand up, entangling my fingers in his black locks. I planted a slightly love struck look on my face, imitating the village girls. Slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time, I let my hand slide down his face, gently caressing the smooth skin with my callused fingers.

He leaned into the touch, his eyes locked onto mine, impatiently gazing at me, waiting for me to move. I smiled internally, before moving my lips to slowly brush his cheek.

I almost burst out laughing when he shivered, so I continued. Closing the distance, I leaned over, mimicking the lip-locking I had seen all too often. Trying to suppress a giggle, I watched him under half-closed eyes as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. As soon as he tried to raise his hand to tangle his fingers in my hair, I pulled back. Resting my forehead against his, I allowed a slightly flirtatious smile to slip onto my face.

He smirked at me, obviously thinking I was too 'wowed' for words. Wishing I could make my little game last longer, I pulled him down one more time, before breaking away with a cold laugh, an amused smirk gracing my face.

Finally, I pulled away, watching confusion break through his own smirk. Sheathing my sword in a fluid motion, I lazily waved an arm for him to follow me. I set a fast pace, wanting to reach the tents before dinner ended. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him struggling along, tipping over under the weight of his pack.

Sighing, I turned and pulled the pack off him, marching to the front again. I could feel his eyes boring into my back when he realized that I was far from tipping over. My satisfaction diminished as memories of how I had gotten that same strength struggled to surface. A frown tugged at the corner of my mouth. He would never comprehend what I had to endure to acquire it. Shaking my head, I allowed a certain amount of smugness to return; there was no reason to get worked up. I could enjoy his shock for a little longer.

Relishing in the expression on the (undoubtedly) seldom-unfazed man, I strode confidently toward the waiting camp, ever conscious of the almost silent footsteps of my companion. If I had been any less skilled, they would have been ignored. Interesting, he would prove to be a fascinating ambassador indeed…if he was even half as good as the rumors made him out to be. Poor him, I let out a laugh, this little game would prove far too interesting to just drop, but far too dangerous for him to continue. If only for his sake, I wished he wasn't such an enticing challenge.