A/N - Second Chapter!

Melida bustled past us to the door, cleaning herself up, pulling stray silver hairs behind her ears and wiping flour off her hands as she walked. She was a spry old woman, who still moved about as quickly as any lady of younger years. We could hear her open our big oak door. I could see Auria leaning back in her chair, almost to the point of tipping to see who it was, while Elli continued eating her soup, trying to seem unconcerned, but her eyes were turned discreetly toward the hall. Wren, who had just been eating his supper in the kitchen, stepped into the doorway and leaned against it, still slurping a bowl of soup, also watched Melida, trying to see what was going on. He was a handsome young man, ruggedly so, of seventeen or eighteen, with a little bit of brown stubble on his cheeks, and dark, coffee colored hair cropped not so neatly next to his head. He had wide shoulders and a strong lean body that was obviously built for manual labor. He winked at me again, and I was glad that everyone else was too busy wondering about the knock at the door to notice.

Visitors were a novelty at our manner. It was located on a lonely road that few traveled if they were smart, so most of our visitors were either lost or sorely ill in the head. I could hear the voice, and it was a man's, deep and rich. Melida stepped into our dining hall, a nervous look on her face.

"Mistress, you better talk to him." Then she whispered, knowing that I could hear every word, but that the other two would not be able to understand a thing. I was used to listening and not talking. "I let him into the house. He's wearing a green cloak; looks like a bandit's. Won't say his name; I'm sending Yuri with you. Be careful." With a knowing little smirk at Auria and Elli, and a quick wink at me, she went back into the kitchen, pushing Wren along in front of her, who had since begun to gaze on me instead of the hall. I blushed again; he was always making me embarrassed.

My mother stood up, in her simple but expensive fabrics, and walked to the front hall, Yuri behind her, a big middle aged man who served as our main defense against intruders. We could hear her voice, but not make out words from my mother's soft and firm tone. His voice, louder but still undecipherable, answered with an undertone of cold and wet in his voice. My mother responded, and we heard their footsteps move towards our dining hall, padding in my mother's case, clomping in the stranger's.

As he stepped into the room, I noticed how he shielded his face from our view, as if afraid that he might burn from the light. Auria, especially was entranced with him, and smiled at him for the longest time with a dreamy look in her eyes. He had a dangerous atmosphere about him, and I believed I could see a glint of golden eyes beneath the shroud. He must be a bandit, or Thief King. I thought romantically, immediately wishing that he would carry me off to be the Queen of the Forest with him. A man once said that if adults left noble marriages to girls, good-looking thieves and handsome stable boys would rule the earth. At the moment, I was not entirely sure that would be a bad thing.

Amana, a tiny girl with brown hair and enormous brown eyes, came out from the shadows and began to help him pull off his cloak. At first he hesitated, then thought better of it, reluctantly letting her take his mantle from him.

He was beautiful. Tall and striking, with white blonde hair down to his shoulders, and golden eyes with bright flecks that scanned the three of us searchingly. Auria grinned, Elli smiled sweetly, and I merely looked on, studying his movements, his expressions, noting where his eyes flickered and where they hung. He looked at me, and I did not look coyly away, as my two sisters had done. They had reason; he could easily lust after them, and though they both would find it flattering, it would not be seemly to stare back. I, on the other hand, was not half as comely as they, and definitely not an object of his desire, so I could hold his gaze for as long as I wanted. He was the first to look away.

Heloise walked in with another plate, not even pretending not to stare. He sat, and mother attempted to engage him in polite conversation.

"What is your name, sir?"

"I am. Alfred." He was hesitant, not sure of himself. Strange, not to be sure of your own name.

"Alfred." My mother said, tasting the word and deciding it was good, if not especially interesting. "These are my daughters, Auria, the eldest," she inclined her head towards my auburn haired sister, who blushed prettily at his stare. "Ellida is my step daughter," she pointed at Elli, who stared shyly at Alfred from underneath long lashes. "And Elizabeth," I merely nodded my head with a tiny smile, letting him know that I could tell he was lying. He smiled at me, amused at my surety. It made me angry.

"And what may I call you, fair hostess?" Alfred grinned up at mother. He was charming, actually. Disgusting.

"I am Duchess Cornelia Velasquez." My mother was from a country across the sea, and she was still attractive, even though wrinkles and a harsh upturn to her mouth had hardened her face after enduring the difficulties of life. She was tall for a woman, and bore the classic looks of her home country, with dark hair, olive skin, and mysterious, brown black eyes.

"Is your husband away?" Alfred asked, and I almost gasped at the rudeness of the question. He barely knew us. How dare he ask such a personal question?

If my mother was as scandalized as I was, she didn't show it. "He died three years ago."

"I'm so sorry," Alfred murmured. The conversation halted. Once again, we all ate in silence.

Then mother said, setting down her fork with determination, "I don't mean to intrude, but why are you out on such a lonely road alone, traveling in the dead of night?" She was always straightforward, and I suppose after his display of social skill, she had a right to ask a deliberately prying question.

He had some trouble answering that one, and made many "hm, well, ah." noises before even beginning to say something intelligible. Finally, he came up with an answer. By that point I was leaning off my seat, staring at him, held poised by the suspense of the moment. My sisters sat in similar stances. Shows how desperately bored we all are. "I am just a traveler, visiting my father." I slumped back into my seat, and began stirring my soup again. How terribly dull, I thought.

Mother finished her meal, and she told us girls to go to bed. Auria slid her hand across the back of Alfred's chair as she walked towards the stairs. He watched her lift her skirts and begin to climb them. My mother scowled.

Elli and I followed, and we each went to our respective rooms. I lit a fire in the fireplace, not wanting to bother Amana to do it for me, got a book, and sat down in my bed, underneath my canopy, and read long into the night, hearing the voices downstairs, the tones changing from formal language to nervous laughter to silence, a joking voice, Wren's, then real, true laughter from all the servants and Mother and the stranger. He always knew how to lighten the mood. I smiled. The talk, I could tell, became more light hearted as the night went on, partially from Yuri's good wine, I was sure, and I began to become quite upset with my mother for sending me to bed so early. But I knew it was so Auria would have no time to get to know the stranger.

Soon I fell asleep, thrown into nightmares about the day my father died, the way he looked up at me and told me to make a nice quiet life for myself, where I could read and write to my heart's content, and then he said, "I love you," slipping slowly into the land of the dead. He had lived for a few more days, but it was not life; it was merely living death, where the body still works as the soul flies away. Then I dreamed of how I had screamed and raged and carried on, angry at him, angry at God, angry at everyone and everything, and I suppose I was acting such things out in my sleep, because I woke up in a tangle of sheets and bedcovers on the floor, sweating like a pig, with the stranger bent down, trying to calm me.

Alfred, in just his night clothes, was staring down at me, nervous and almost frightened. Embarrassed, I tried to stand up, only to fall immediately back down, right into his arms. I blushed, and he carried me back up to my bed. Then he just sat on the edge, staring at me for quite some time. I could not see his eyes, but I could imagine what he was thinking. I blushed further shades of embarrassment, trying to hide myself under my raven dark hair.

I am not very pretty, with unfashionably dark hair and jade green eyes with turquoise and gold mixed into them, so bright they make a striking contrast with my hair, a rather pointed nose, and a jaw line too strong to be considered feminine. So usually men stare at my sisters. I get nothing more than a passing glance, sometimes a stare, but that usually is directed at my ink stained hands, or my charcoal marked skirts. And I had nothing wrong with that. Let Auria get raped by some peasant in the marketplace, if she was going to be so overconfident; it was none of my business. And Elli could marry some handsome young man just as empty as herself; it would mean nothing to me. And anyway, Wren loved me, and I loved him, so what was there in other men?

But as Alfred gazed on me, I thought, Maybe I should follow him on the road. The silence stretched between us. I shifted my body underneath the covers he had placed over me, feeling awkward. Say something! I thought at him, hoping by some mental bond he might hear me. But instead, he leaned down, his hair falling into my face, and kissed me, lightly. NO! I should've screamed, but I was caught up in the moment, the romance of it all. I could tell he knew what he was doing; I was not his first kiss. Then he leaned back, and I could tell he was smiling through the dark. He came in close, as if he was going to kiss me again. My breath quickened, and I realized I wanted him to do more than kiss me again, even if it would change everything, even if I were so scared I thought I might start screaming. He whispered in my ear something almost unintelligible, that sounded suspiciously like, "Come away with me." Then he stood up and left, walking out my door to the guestrooms.

I didn't know what to think. A part of me was angry, squealing, "How dare he just walk into my house and turn everything around and mess up the way things were!" Another part was alive, tingling with the excitement. "Come away with me"?

I knew I wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep, so I picked up my book and lit a candle, and tried to read. It was too hard to concentrate. I threw the book on the floor and picked up my inkwell and feather pen, then walked down the stairs to our Dining hall. I sat in front of the fire, and began to write. I wrote until all my feelings and doubts were on the paper, and then I just sat, my knees hugged to my chest, and stared into the fire, analyzing every possible aspect. Fire always seemed to clear things up; it was so wild and raging, but held in a very controlled environment, kind of like my thoughts, I realized. He could've thought I was one of my sisters; it was dark in the room, and I guessed a large amount of alcohol had been consumed during the night. Or suppose he actually was in love with me. What about Wren and mother and Melida, and all the people I loved? Was this my only chance for an adventure? I knew what I must do, for I could not stay in this manor any longer, and I couldn't let my mother arrange a marriage to some elderly baron who was not Wren or Alfred, who would probably beat me and leave me a young widow. I had to get away.