Hey, here's a little foreshadowing chapter, in which I will attempt to regain your interest in this story that I have seemed to abandon, but haven't really. It's told all in Lineal's perspective. But no sympathy for him, please!

He was raging mad. First, he let those imbeciles get away, then he allowed one of them to nearly slice his guts out? And now he'd been confined to bed for a week in order to make sure the wound didn't open again. His royal doctors had been completely nonplussed as to why their healing charms hadn't worked.

Lineal had his suspicions, though, that the sword that had been used upon him had been charmed. Dumbledore had showed up, after all, and he could have been behind this awful weapon. But now his mind was set upon one thing: finding the girl. The girl who was destined to become his wife, and although the chances of them falling in love were slim, she was the girl who he was going to spend his life with.

He had already thought of a plan; one that would make it final. Theresa Allaine Elconis Feire would be leaving with, marrying, and living with him at Skremmende.

Lineal had an idea of how he would make his point made. It would have to be somewhere public, and killing one of her obnoxious friends was mandatory. If he was lucky, it could be the blond one or the stocky brunette, but he knew the one that would cause her the most pain was the best friend.

He didn't really want to kill her; in his opinion, she was the most attractive. He'd been hoping to steal a kiss, maybe, when they'd been caught in Skremmende.

"M'lord, the physician says it's time for your rehabilitation."

Lineal's head whipped around. Standing at the doorway was a small, frightened looking boy. He was the page they'd hired in replacement of his illegitimate daughter. "Very well," the prince sighed. "You are dismissed. Tell him I'll be out soon." The boy dashed back out and closed the heavy wooden door.

He really didn't want to have to work on getting his functions back in order, but it was necessary if he wanted to recover properly from his injury. It was a horrid day outside, not a cloud in the sky, though that was because of the raging wind. His physician insisted upon holding his rehabilitation outdoors; he said it helped to see the sun once in a while.

Lineal moved slowly out of bed, dressed, and continued to walk out the door and through the corridor. His hand reached inside the pocket of his trousers and felt a small, ragged scrap of velvet. He stroked the cloth, making his way down to the lawn.

Every time a guard or maid passed, they would flatten themselves against the wall, bow their heads, and wait until he left them behind. This left him rather lonely, really. He had no brothers or sisters, no parents, wasn't able to marry anyone but she who hated him, and seeing as he was the only royal in the castle, no friends. He hated to think about himself this way, pathetically, but it was true.

He pushed the front doors open, making the gash in his side sting a bit, and continued out though the dead, brown grass and to the small, round physician waiting for him. The man seemed on the verge of being blown over, then rolled the half mile from where they were standing to the drop off into the sea. The wind buffeted Lineal as he walked, making his hair, which needed trimming, blow wildly around his face.

Lineal took his hand out of his pocket, holding the square of dark red velvet. It was something he'd picked up when he'd been out as a young man, exploring the world. From before his mum died and his father took ill and he had to come back and keep him company. It was a scrap of cloth from the dress of the only woman he'd ever loved.

Cecily.

They'd met when he was in Wales, posing as a wealthy merchant. Cecily was a noblewoman, to be married off, though she was only sixteen. She'd been in town for the fitting of her dress, and they'd seen each other at the market. He'd been shopping, looking for something suitable to bring back to his mother as a gift. She had just escaped from a flurry of measuring tapes.

Time had not been kind to him. Back then, he'd been envied by other men for his charm and looks. He was eighteen back then.

It had happened much like the expression "love at first sight." They'd seen each other in the crowded market, and he'd wondered what a beautiful, black-haired, grey-eyed beauty was doing without an escort. The wizarding town in Wales was very old-fashioned; men still wore breeches and waistcoats, women had to wear dresses that brushed the ground or they would be considered scandalous. Escorts were socially required for every lady over thirteen.

Cecily had approached him. He could still hear her first words to him: "Sir, I seem to have lost," she said in a perfect English accent, "my family. Would you mind helping me?"

He'd replied, "I will help you, my lady. Where would you like to look for them?"

"Anywhere they are likely to be, sir."

He had understood. Though she appeared to be asking for help in finding her family, it was only for the benefit of the crowd around them. She was asking him if he'd hide her from them.

They walked together through the market until he finally led her to a small apothecary. Cecily seemed slightly confused at this, but didn't question his decision. A second later, they were descending a small staircase into a dark storage room. Lineal and his companion then strolled leisurely beneath the low ceilings, into the left fork in the corridor, up another set of stairs, and then they were emerging into a narrow alley. It was nearly dark.

Expertly, Lineal guided them through the alley and back out into the main road. They had somehow gotten to the other side of the town, somewhere that Cecily's mother had no chance of finding her. Cecily breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I can find lodging here, and perhaps I won't have to be married at all."

An insane idea struck him. "You could sleep in the extra room where I'm staying."

Cecily smiled at this idea. "That's even better. Thank you, I think I'll take you up on that."

Together, they entered his rooms. Nobody had blinked an eye at his companion. That first night, Lineal got no sleep.

On the second, he had to get up multiple times.

On the third, he thought it was impossible for a man to go around Wales with the girl he loved, be totally exhausted, and still not be able to sleep.

On the fourth night, Cecily came to him.

He'd slept that night.

"Are you ready, M'lord?"

Lineal realized he'd been reminiscing about Cecily for several minutes, staring at the scrap of red fabric. The wind had not let up at all. "Yes, Harford, I think I am."

The physician realized what he'd been staring at. "You must let it go, M'lord. She will not be the only one."

"Let it go, yes," Lineal murmured. He held up his hand and let the last fragment of his love for Cecily slip away. He watched it fly off into the distance.

"M'lord?"

"I'm ready, Harford."

His heart felt as though it had been ripped in two.