The night grew cold as the embers in the stove slowly blackened and died. The frost climbed across the windows as if spiders were stitching its way, and the only thought that stretched through my mind was the wonder of if the man that lay beside me would ever lose his affection for me.

I've never been my father's little princess like most little girls were. I was always his helper, the one who cleaned the stalls and threw the hay. I had never once heard that I was beautiful or that he loved me, he'd only pat me on the shoulder and tell me 'good work'. My mother passed away when I was two and yet I can remember her sweet fragrance and the loosed wave of her auburn hair. She loved me, I know, but her absence from my life and the lack of warmth in my family is probably the purpose for questioning this love that now surrounds me.

"Do you truly love me Link?" I whispered to my sleeping love, brushing the golden hair from his brow. A chill hit my side and I curled close to him, using his warmth to keep me safe from the darkness around us. He turned and embraced me and so we stayed in each other's arms until the night brightened into day.