"Stop behaving so foolishly, Lisette!" my mother scolded. "We'll be safe in England by nightfall!"

I sighed. Rumors flew that my native France was on the verge of revolution. A mob of discontented peasants sought to rebel against King Adam and Queen Belle.

Wishing to spare the life of his nephew, my father had promised my hand in marriage to any man who restored peace by solving the problem without the demise of the royal family. I would await my fate in England, where my family now fled, for if anything happened to my cousin's family, I was next in line for the French throne.

"Soon this will all be a distant memory," Mother continued. "Why, when you're holding your newborn baby…"

There was no point in reminding Mother than I didn't want a baby. Why would I want to lie in bed for hours, screaming in anguish until I was hoarse while sweat poured down my face, without the benefit of modesty, dignity, or any other virtue that defined me as a human being, only to be given instruction about embarrassing matters of the most personal nature that would happen to my body for weeks after the event? Furthermore, the little person brought forth by my actions would soil its nappy and vomit on my dress and grow into someone who thwarted my servants' plans to keep the castle tidy and organized. To be sure, I do love my cousin's children very much, but as I could never imagine myself being a good parent, I have always been grateful never to have borne any offspring of my own.

When we arrived at the English court, King Geoffrey welcomed us most graciously, assuring us that a splendid banquet had been prepared. However, when I saw that one of the courses was venison in brown gravy, I nearly began sobbing.

Father glared. "Lisette! Is this any proper behavior for a lady?!"

"He hates venison." I bit my lip. "I miss him so much."

Father's baleful lower grew colder. "You are never to mention that disgrace to humanity again! He nearly killed your cousin!"

"Adam deserved it!" I argued. "He'd been behaving like a beast for years! Then one man had the audacity to stand up to him…!"

"Enough!"

I rose and bobbed a curtsy. "With the king's indulgence, I'm not hungry. I'll see myself to my room."

While Father hastily apologized to King Geoffrey for my complete disregard for protocol, I went to the guestroom that had been reserved for my arrival. My parents would occupy one in another corridor. Finally having a rare moment alone, I closed my eyes, remembering how I had met Louis Desbois.

I often disguised myself as a peasant and mingled with villagers so I would be able to hear about life for the paupers of my cousin's kingdom. Once when I arrived in a certain village, there was a man selling wares from the forest. His dark hair, which grew past his shoulders, was tangled and matted, and his sideburns came all the way to his chin, which was covered with stubble. His square jaw was enhanced by the nearly perfect square his facial hair formed around his lips, giving him the appearance of having a dog's muzzle. His eyes were his most unusual feature. They were golden amber, like flames of fire.

I approached his cart. "Bonjour, monsieur. What do you have for sale today?"

He nodded a polite greeting. "Wares from the king's forest. Game, berries, firewood, herbs, or whatever else you may need." He tilted his head. "But why do you ask? You're no peasant!"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your hands are too soft. You've never worked outside. You're no doubt a rich man's daughter, and you want to learn how to take care of yourself and not be a helpless token bride for some unworthy gentleman."

It seemed a plausible alibi, and it would keep him from discovering my true identity, so I confirmed his conclusion.

"Well, come here." He took an oaken cudgel from the cart. "I'll show you how to use a quarterstaff. It only takes a few minutes to learn, but it's a lifetime to perfect."

We met often. Sometimes he taught me about the forest or how to defend myself. Other times, I took him to ballets or operas. I soon learned that his belligerent nature was almost entirely a bluff, for he was fiercely loyal to his friends and family, and he would have gone to the end of the world to help the less fortunate. When I finally saw past his feigned wryness, I discovered that he even had a sense of humor.

However, there was something highly unusual about the man. I would expect the head caretaker of the royal forest to have a taste for game, but Louis despised it. He could cook it better than the finest chefs of the royal court, but he rarely ate it. When I finally learned the reason for this unusual quirk, I could scarcely believe my own ears.