There was a quiet little village just beyond the edges of the city of Haven, filled with tidy rows of neatly kept cottages, cobbled streets, and a central square where women washed their laundry and gossiped around a stately fountain. Sheep and goats called in their pens, and a stray chicken meandered along the quiet streets. A young woman exited her home with a basket of wet clothing under one arm, and hummed a cheery little tune to herself. Just before she closed the heavy door to her cottage, a cat skittered between her feet and off into the woods. "And there you go again, Eavan! I'll not be chasing you about when it's time to come in!" She closed the door and continued her humming, waving one arm to the rhythm she'd created. Her eyes danced and shone like emerald stars as she waltzed down the dirt path and into the woods, and her hair seemed ablaze in the sunlight. She was the only redheaded woman in this village, though she never felt out of place because of it. In fact, she appeared to fit in more than the rest of the girls around here. One thing was certain - as a teen, she never lacked in suitors. However, since most of the boys and men in the village seeking her hand were more like brothers to her, she had always turned them kindly down. "Top of the morning, Caelan!" A cheery voice from the bakery called, breaking her from her thoughts; the lady turned her head to smile at him. "G'morning to you, too, Rowan!" The baker, tough to unfamiliar eyes but kind to any villager he met, grinned his wide grin and stepped outside. "An' 'ow are things with Donas, then?" He asked, still smiling from ear to ear. At this, Caelan's smiled faded only a trifle. "Grand," she said half-heartedly, and widened her grin again. The baker nodded, "Good t' 'ear, lovey! Good t' 'ear!" and turned back to his work. Caelan sighed and continued walking down the path; her eyes focused inward at her own thoughts. The fact of the matter was; she and Donas were NEVER so grand as the village thought they were. Oh, sure, they seemed the perfect couple when the eyes of the town were upon them, but behind closed doors . . . Well; Donas wasn't the virtuous man everyone thought him to be. Her father had introduced Donas to Caelan just before he died, in hopes that one day they'd be married. Caelan's mother had passed away long before Caelan reached the young age of eight, in a horrible storm that ruined everything they had. Connor had sent Caelan away to live with Donas as soon as she'd turned seventeen, and now, three years later, she was still with him. Donas was a kind man, when he didn't want anything, and Caelan loved him dearly, but there were things about him that could CERTAINLY stand a change. She was reminded of last night's fiasco, and delicately fingered the bruise that purpled her cheekbone. She'd done her best to disguise it with what she could find - ground tea leaves, cinnamon, anything remotely skin-toned - and so far her ploy had worked. But there were times when no amount of paint or dye could cover what'd been done. On those days, Caelan stayed inside and tended to things that 'couldn't be put off any longer.' The villagers thought too highly of Donas to suspect anything, even when - for the third time in a week - Caelan came to the square with a bruise 'from Nell', her sweet little milking goat. She was glad for the time she had away from Donas, when he went off to work on the community farm, and she made the best of it. Every morning she'd take a walk through these quiet woods, picking flowers or watching the animals roam . . .. It was her favorite pass time, truth be told, and she'd be happy in a hut made of twigs out here. At last she reached her destination, a sunny little grove just perfect for hanging clothes to dry, and here she set her basket down. For a moment, she looked around herself, drinking in the beauty of the forest in the morning, and then set to work hanging her clothes to dry. All of the white laundry was put into direct sunlight, where the rays would bleach them white, and the colored things were put in the shade, where the warmth of the afternoon would dry them, too. All in all it was a pleasant task, what with the birds singing in the treetops and the forest-things going on their merry way, and Caelan would have said it was the perfect morning . . . until a distant thunder took her by surprise. At first, her eyes darted heavenward, searching for angry clouds, but she spotted none, and so searched the horizon - what little of it could be seen through the trees - for the source of the noise. A flash of white caught her eye - a huge, hulking flash of white, and for a moment Caelan's heart leapt into her throat. What if it was some horrid monster?

:: At ease, Sister.: a voice whispered into her mind, and Caelan breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Dante - who wasn't really her brother, but the two of them were nearly inseparable.

:: Dante?? You've returned!::

:: Aye, Caelan, I have. And I come bearing gifts!:: There was a chuckle in that MindVoice, and so Caelan knew that Dante brought no gifts with him - at least none in the general sense of the word. At that moment, Dante and Deyan rode into view, both of them impeccably white in their Heraldic 'getup'. Caelan smiled and hurried to Dante's side, throwing her arms around him tightly. "Hallo," he smiled, and hugged her back, his wild shock of hair tumbling into his eyes again. Caelan smoothed it back and kissed Dante's cheek. "I was worried about you, you know." She said, and smiled. Then both emerald eyes caught sight of Kate, who was glaring rather evilly at Caelan. "Who's this, then?" Caelan asked, as though she didn't see the daggers in that gaze. "This is Princess Kayatice Fitral," Dante announced formally, "She's the woman I was sent to rescue. Thank the gods I got her here in one piece."

:: There were Wyrsa on our tails the whole time.: Deyan announced, to which Dante gave a rather surprised look. "And you didn't TELL me?" He wanted to know, and shook his head in dismay.

:: You never asked. ::
** Upon Deyan's back, Kate still sat, both eyes gleaming silver in the sunlight. The instant that redheaded woman had hugged Dante, she'd hated her. 'That's one to keep an eye on,' she said to herself, and dismounted easily. It seemed she wasn't the only one after Dante's affections. She set about unloading her things from the saddle, and slung her bag over one shoulder. A dirt path led away from Dante and the redhead, apparently toward the city. Kate decided to follow, and stalked off in that direction. "Wait!" a voice from behind her called, and Dante loped up beside her. "Where are you going?" "Away." Kate replied in her own tongue, and continued stalking. "But you don't know where we're staying, Kate!" She stopped in her tracks and dropped her things. "And I suppose we're staying with that WOMAN?" she snapped, and crossed her arms. "No," Dante sighed, and lifted Kate's chin with one hand, "We're not . . .. And please don't act this way! Caelan is - well, Caelan's like my sister. In fact, she IS, come to think of it. Even though we haven't the same parents . . .. Don't be like this." That changed things. Apparently this 'Caelan' wasn't a threat at all. Immediately Kate's guard was dropped - partially. "All right," she said, and lifted her bag, "Where are we going, then?" Dante looked to Caelan and motioned for her to lead the way. Caelan smiled. "There's a nice enough place that's been empty a while. The Bryants moved out of it a fortnight ago. It should be just the place for you two."