Lord Ambrose

Where is that useless girl? She is supposed to be helping Morgana, but Morgana came to me a few moments ago complaining that "Crow has vanished again."

That girl is nothing but trouble, just like her mother, Wynflaeth. I feel my heart speed up.

I remember when I first met Wynflaeth very clearly. Her and her father had come to visit during my twentieth summer. She was perfect. Her eyes were bright blue, the color of the sky, and she had a gentle face, which was usually framed by her wavy black hair. She was the perfect lady in front of the court, but when it was just her, myself and my younger brother Blythe, she would drop the act. She wanted to spend her free time learning to handle a sword, going into the forest and race horses and resting on the grass and stare at the sky. She was everything a man could ever want but I was not the only one who thought so.

It did not take long to realize that Blythe was also, in love with her and the close relationship with my brother was destroyed. When the summer had almost ended, we were told that Wynflaeth and I would be wed. Both Blythe and Wynflaeth and looked at each other with horror in their eyes, but I was the only one who noticed.

Blythe and I argued that night.

"You have to stop Blythe."

"Brantley, I cannot just stop loving her."

"She will be my wife. You have no choice but to live with it." I could not blame my brother for loving her. How could I when I had fallen just as easily? However, she was engaged to me and Blythe would have to learn to deal with it.

"There is always a choice." He had left before I could respond.

I had hoped after the wedding Wynflaeth would learn to love me as she did Blythe. A few weeks before the wedding Blythe went out hunting and did not return that night. The next day my brother's body was found hanging from a noose. As angry as I was with my brother part of me died with him that day.

Wynflaeth lost the spark in her eyes, but I still had hope that one day she would learn to love me. It never happened. Every year on the anniversary of my brother's death, she would set in the garden and read a letter which I later found out was from my brother and would cry. Even then I loved her, but after five years my love had started to become hate. Hate because no matter what I did she could not love me in return. A part of me understood that it was not her fault. You cannot force love, but the rest of me over came the reasonable part.

When the girl was born, all I could see was an odd looking child. An odd looking child that had large ears like my brother and one that Wynflaeth was so ready to love when she could not love me. When Gaius asked me what I wished to do with the child that small part told me to keep her, but once again I did not want to listen. When he told me about the servant woman it was the perfect plan. However, as the child began to grow she still kept her odd looks, but there was no denying the similarities between her and her mother.

When she was four I order the woman taking care of the girl to dress her like a boy. I knew she wanted to question my orders, but she held her tongue. It was the simplest way to hide the connection between the girl and myself besides sending her away. However, by then I no longer willing to part with her. Over time, that small part of me started to care for the girl. That crooked grin and laughter somehow found a way in. It reminds me of Blythe as a child. She represents everything I have lost; both my brother and her mother. I am not willing to allow her to leave as well, even if she is the constant reminder, because she is the only thing I have left of either. That was the reason that when the woman was let go, I ordered the woman to leave the girl with me when she left. Shaking my head, I ridicule myself for such thoughts.

Turning the corner I spot the girl heading my direction. I feel the familiar anger coming to the surface, but it is mixed with a small amount of protectiveness. Two such opposite feelings should not coexist together, but yet they do. The anger takes over as it almost always does. It is easier to keep being angry than to change now.

End of Ambrose point of view for a while. You already know what happens when he finds her.

Meaning of names: Brantley: proud, Blythe: merry, joyful, Wynflaeth: beautiful and fair