The rest of the ride was incredibly hard. I knew it would be more difficult than the previous days, but I didn't realize that, to cross the vast forest in so short a time, we would have to ride almost without stopping. We pushed the horses as hard as we dared and ourselves even harder, until even the fine bones of my hands screamed in anguish. Shadow was nervous and terribly alert, constantly scanning the trees and underbrush as if he too expected to be attacked at any moment. We passed other travelers on the way, a caravan of Gondorian merchants laden with ale from the Lakemen and wool from the low plains, a pair of horsemen from Rohan looking as suspicious and guarded as Shadow, and a group of young noblewomen who giggled and simpered when Shadow glanced in their direction. I noticed that his eyes followed them but that his expression was different than when we spoke; he looked suddenly like a farmer appraising a prize-winning sow. I wasn't sure if the look was meant to be flattering, but the girls seemed to like it, for they giggled harder, and one of them-a dark haired girl with heavy-lidded dark eyes-- twiddled her fingers in his direction. He grinned at her, a wolfish look I didn't think I liked, but didn't approach her.

When we stopped that evening for a short rest, I worked up the nerve to ask him about the women we had passed. He was, I think, surprised by my question; at first, he didn't remember them at all. As he recollected, a whisper of the same grin slipped across his face.

"Oh, them? They're from Osgiliath- you'll probably see them again. The dark-haired one's brother is an old friend of mine, a guardsman in the palace."

"That's why she knew you then? And waved?" I knew I was being nosey, but I couldn't help asking.

He glanced at me, curious. "I know her, aye. I doubt that's why she waved, though. Her brother and I are not so close that I would count her among my better acquaintances."

I could see him waiting for my reaction. I tried to keep my face still as I kept prying into his private life. I turned to stripping the tack off Gwenn and examining it for weakening seams.

"Why would she go to the trouble of waving if you're not her friend? Is this customary in the city?"

He laughed suddenly, a pleasant sound that was still somewhat condescending. "So many questions you ask. I swear I've never met a woman so curious. If you must know, she wants my attention because her parents don't approve- she's a right little slattern and keeps her brother on the hop, fending off all the guardsmen and Rangers and servants she finds to scandalize the family."

I busied myself picking at the fraying seam of one of my reins. "Is that what gentlewomen are supposed to be like?"

I couldn't look at him; I was afraid he'd laugh at me. Truth be told, I was terrified that he'd say that's how all gentlewomen behaved, that somehow I'd be expected to priss and simper and flirt with men. I didn't know how to do that- I'd never wanted to catch the fancy of any of the boys in the village.

"Should they behave in such a way? I'd say not, but then things rarely are what they ought to be. Most of those highborn ladies want to catch the richest man they can for a husband and figure they can have their fun as well, as long as no one catches them at it." His voice was more serious now, not laughing at all.

"Merowyn. You're worried, but I'm not sure why." The statement hung in the air; I could have let it go, I suppose.

I sighed, feeling my hands start to tremble again. "I don't know how to act proper. I can't do that, I can't be like those girls. I don't know how. What if I don't fit in? What if they think I'm simple or if I embarrass them?"

I felt one of his strong hands rest on my shoulder. He sighed, a deep gusty breath that ruffled my hair.

"Don't worry so much about being like those girls. You'll be better off if you try to be as little like them as possible. They're noble, but they're not respectable. None of them has a grain of sense, and I doubt they have the intelligence to make tea. All those girls are is pretty and wealthy, and that's all the men who look at them see."

"And I'm not either, so who's ever going to look at me?" I was shocked by the bitterness in my voice; I hadn't realized until the words popped out that I was deeply unhappy. At the same time, I was horribly ashamed of having complained, mortified by the tears running down my face.

The hand on my shoulder tightened; Shadow firmly tugged me around to face him. With a gentleness I would never have expected, he wiped the tears off my cheeks with a soft cloth. He patted my cheek and chucked me under then chin playfully.

"Stop fretting. You have nothing to worry about- you're a lovely girl, and smart to boot."

I shook my head; never in my life had anyone called me pretty. I didn't believe him, and I told him as much. He smiled again, somewhat sadly, and touched my face almost tenderly.

"You are beautiful, Merowyn. Whether you believe it or not- and I can't see why anyone would say you weren't. If you were older, I'd be-"

He broke off suddenly, a queer expression on his face. His brow creased as he gazed into my face; he shook himself and turned back to the horses.

"We need to get moving. We don't have much time left."