Proof-read by Danaye.

Chapter 2

"Oh, quit pouting! It's not that bad. Jonathan only agreed to what he thought was going to be an excellent idea."

He was soaked through to his travel cloth and he was utterly cold. He could clearly hear the voice of the Lioness, his closest friend, repeating her words over and over again after he had found out what his king had planned for him without his knowledge.

His departure had been rather quick after he had ended up in a bad argument with the King of wanting to do as he was told, he had thought of denying the royal order, but had found that just leaving was better.

The gossip at the palace got to be horrible after a rumor broke out and several single ladies at court had practically thrown themselves at him. During the two days he had remained at the castle, it had been unbearable. Whenever he had taken a step outside the safety of his chambers they had rounded on him, dropping embroidered handkerchiefs while passing him so that he was forced to pick them up and return it to the giggling women who then proceeded to shamefully flirt with him.

Numair had fallen for their schemes a couple of times, but when he had found two women arguing loudly over who had the right to be seated next to him at the next banquet, he had quickly excused himself and packed the few belongings that would be required for a trip. With a slip of note left behind to the King of Tortall, he had left the capital with his horse at a full gallop.

While riding through the countryside he wondered about the possibility that the behavior the women showed in court had been his own fault. He was a charmer, and he knew it very well. He knew from the gossip that they fancied him and that they found him rather attractive. What he hadn't known was that they only saw him as an easy way into a life amongst important nobles. He was the sought after bachelor who sat among legends as if he was their equal, when in reality he was really the tailor's boy from Tyra, who had betrayed the Emperor of Carthak.

The women from Tortall were nice, some even lovely, but marrying one of them – he would rather bite his own tongue off. He wanted someone who could see inside his soul and at the same time see the man that was hidden underneath the many layers of disguise he had managed to wrap around himself these past eight years.

So he had left Corus earlier than planned and traveled north, hoping he had made the right decision. He only hoped that she wouldn't be another empty headed goose or blonde. It wasn't that he hated blondes; He just had an unfortunate history with them. What bothered him the most was the fact that women wanted to use his rank in the Tortallan court to come close to their majesties.

If it came time to choose anything, he would welcome the arranged marriage he was on his way to rather then stay at the court where women fought over him like stray dogs over a small bone.

Numair reined in his horse. If he was ever to be married he wanted a woman who was fiery, spoke without thinking about the consequences and held on to her own opinions. If he couldn't have that, he would rather be back in Emperor Ozorne's dungeons.

He could now glimpse a few lights in the distance and he felt weary over the thought of being able to sleep in a comfortable bed instead of the hard, now overly wet and extremely cold ground. It would soon begin to snow. Jonathan, the King of Tortall, couldn't have chosen a worse time to arrange a marriage. Everyone knew that he hated the cold as much as his close friend Alanna did.

Winter was coming fast up here in the north and he wanted to reach Corus with his bride-to-be before the snow closed the roads off.

Turning his mind to speculations of what she might look like, he gave his gelding a little push with his knees.

An hour later, Numair Salmalin looked up, only to find the view in front of him disappointing. He was still too far away from the small town that surrounded the castle and the horse underneath him shivered in the cold as the first drop of rain landed heavily between his ears. Cursing quietly, he slowed the horse down so he wouldn't be tired.

She had snuck out from the castle later in the day to visit the one true friend she had down in the nearby town. It wasn't common that she left for the small house where her friend lived with her husband, but the two women had been annoying to have around.

The two ladies had gone through her stuff and had ended up discarding almost half of her belongings. They had exclaimed that one who was going to marry such an important person would need to be more decently dressed than Daine currently was. She had been growling over the small allusions about her background and style of dress that were thrown into the air as if she wasn't present inside the room.

When one of them had tried to force her into the most heinous peach gown, her patience had finally run out. She had thrown her brush at them, yelling that if she saw them again inside her room she would get every mouse inside the castle to visit them in their beds.

It had gotten her the necessary time to pack the few loved belongings she had, which wasn't much. After that she had snuck off even though she had been told that her movements were to be restricted to only the castle. Daine knew, however, that no one could keep her inside or leave her outside. She had always been able to go where she wanted.

Rosalie was the one who knew and understood about her background and the flight the young girl had been forced to take when an accidental fire had killed her mother and grandfather.

Upon reaching the castle as a starved, dirty and hurt girl of the age of twelve, it had been Rosalie who had taken the girl under her wing during the first few years. When Rosalie got married and moved down into the town along with her husband, she had left a plea to the king and asked him if he could find something for the young girl to do. By that time everyone had noticed that Daine was capable of more then just communicating with animals. The girl also had the valuable gift of healing them too. The king had, of course, accepted and gave her a room in the back of the royal stables. She would always be near the animals she loved the most: the horses.

She was now waving goodbye to her friend who was holding one screaming infant in her arms. When Daine turned her back, she couldn't help but remember all that had happened and her heart filled with sadness. Consumed by the heavy burden in her heart, she rounded a corner and walked briskly into something solid.

Daine almost landed on the ground, but was stopped as teeth gently grabbed the fabric of her cloak and steadied her.

She slowly took hold of the loose reins and studied the horse in front of her. He was strongly built and his coat was pitch black from the light rain that poured from the heavy clouds above her.

"What a beauty you are," she whispered and stroked the black mane away from his eyes. The gelding snorted heavily allowing the moist warm air to leave his nostrils.

She lifted his head, studying the elegant bridle. The leather was well kept and the metal shone without rust. She allowed her fingers to slide over the muscular neck, down to the muscles supporting the muddy hooves.

When her fingers reached the empty saddle she paused and turned her head, checking her surroundings. The alley she was in was deserted. "Where is the person who rode you?" she asked in a very low voice. Still being gifted with the ability to speak with animals, there were some who thought her to be a demon in disguise, and even though she was utterly alone, she was careful not to let any conversation with the horse reach unwelcomed ears.

The horse whinnied lowly showing her a picture of a black bundle lying in the other alley. Pulling the horse behind her she walked quickly and found a person lying unconscious on the ground. She took hold of the heavy cloak and turned the person, discovering a man soaked to the bone. It had been raining heavily the last six hours and then the cold had set in. She herself was wearing warm and comfortable clothes, the man, however, was not. In the sparse light she could just barely see his eyes move about under his eyelids as if he had a fever.

Carefully she laid her hand on his forehead and felt how his skin burned a little. Sitting back and biting her lip, she wondered what she was going to do with him. She couldn't leave him like that; he would die during the night and she couldn't go back into town as she only knew one person there and Rosalie had enough to look after with her three children.

The man in front of her moaned and startled her out of her thoughts at the same time that the horse behind her back pushed her forward so she fell over the man's chest. She glanced up to the gelding. "You are demanding a lot, you know that?" she replied tartly to the horse while she lifted herself up on strong arms and looked down at the man.

As if to answer her question the gelding lowered himself to the ground as if to say, "Pull him up onto me and I will carry him for you."

Daine snorted at the horse. "And where shall I put him when I reach the stables?" she asked, but rose and began to pull the man over the saddle as if he was a sack of potatoes. She abruptly released the man as the horse pictured a bed of straw with the man lying in it with her by his side. "Ha – you must be joking if you think that I will..." she paused as the light of a lamppost threw sparse rays of light on his face.

Startled, she leaned forward and looked at the man hanging over the saddle. He was younger than she thought. Lifting her shaking hand she stroked his wet, black hair out of the way. With her own lips pressed into a thin line she paused for a few seconds. His clothes were too nicely made for him to be a commoner and she had noticed that his purse clinked with money.

She glanced to the horse and saw that the gelding held a plea in his dark eyes. "Fine!" she said, "You win!" And with that she took hold of the reins and pulled, hoping that the guards of the castle wouldn't ask any questions. She wasn't in the mood to answer them anyway.

The guards weren't a problem. As always, they only threw her one look and opened the gates to let her in. Growling over the situation, she pulled the gelding into the stable and into the nearest stall by her room, letting the horse who resided there go into another one farther away. Inside the stall, the gelding lowered his body to the ground and she pulled the sleeping man off the saddle.

Setting to her task, she took off the saddle and the headgear, and began the process of brushing the gelding down with straw so he wouldn't catch a cold as his owner had.

When the task was done, she turned to the man who was now sound asleep inside the warm stable, the straw clinging to his wet clothes. "I really hope that you can walk a little by yourself, as it seems that you are a lot taller than I am," she whispered, a bit out of breath as she pulled at him and he tried to stand on shaky legs. "Now try to stand." Daine commanded and settled his arm around her shoulders.

Tottering over to her door she touched the handle and the spell that had sealed the room off from intruders was lifted. She dragged the man after her and standing with his weight supported by her, she pushed the door shut with one of her feet. Warmth quickly hit her face and breathlessly she pushed the man back against the door.

"Don't sit down or else I'll have to leave you on the floor because I don't have the strength to pull you up a second time."

As he leaned back she took off her own heavy moist cloak. As she did so she looked approvingly up and down the man's frame. "You are indeed a tall man," she concluded and took hold of her own boots, pulling them off. She tossed them away while thinking about how she should proceed with the task that stood in front of her, half asleep. She turned from him and lit a match so she could see him properly.

Lost in her thoughts she jumped as a muffled sound reached her ears and she saw how the man leaned his head back against the door, not opening his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered to her and Daine found herself smiling suddenly at the tone of his voice. It was a masculine mixture of deepness and tenderness that made her heart skip a beat.

"You are welcome," She found herself replying while looking up at his closed eyes.

"I'm going to have to take your clothes off, you are soaking wet – if it's okay?" she added, not sure if he had drifted off into sleep once again. When he didn't respond she threw herself into the task. The first thing that had to come off was the heavy cloak he had on. With that gone, the process became easier. He was still standing when her fingers unbuttoned his shirt.

She had to pull the fabric up from where it had been tucked into his breeches, but when it was loose she could carefully and slowly push it over his shoulders and down his arms.

She had to keep her own breath low as the sight of tanned, muscular skin was revealed. A single stone hung in a silvery chain around his neck, confirming her suspicion about him being noble or wealthy. She let the shirt drop to the floor. She couldn't help herself as she let her fingers slide millimeters over his skin and down his stomach. When her fingers reached his breeches, she unbuckled his belt and began to unbutton the buttons.

Somewhere in her mind her thoughts were telling her something about this being almost too intimate and so wrong, but she also knew that it had to be done or he would get a severe cold. With his belt loosened she pulled his breeches down to his knees where heavy, black, polished boots stood firmly planted onto the floor.

"You have to lift your feet," she told him in a soft voice, "or I can't get those off of you." She was squatting when he did as he was told and once again she pushed the wet fabric out of the way along with his boots. Once she lifted her head she felt a sudden blush spread as she found that the man in front of her wasn't as unaffected over the situation as she hoped he would be and her eyes dropped to the ground. She silently thanked the gods that she had decided to leave him covered by his loincloth.

Gripping his hand to stand yet again she lifted it up in further inspection. With raised eyebrows she concluded that the man in front of her wasn't as vain as she had thought. Calloused skin covered the inside of his hand. Looking up into his face, she brushed the long wet hair away from his face and a slightly crooked nose became visible.

As if he was a horse, she inspected him further. He was strongly built, yet she suspected that he had been mostly legs in his younger days. Searching his face and looking at the soft lips she was about to touch, she estimated him to be in his mid-twenties or a few years past. The long eyelashes only complimented his features. She was startled deeply as he suddenly opened his mouth.

"If you are done looking me over I would like to lie down somewhere?" he asked softly without opening his eyes.

Daine blushed deeply. He had caught her in the action.

"Of course." She guided him over to her bed and she saw how he carefully laid himself on the soft mattress. Pulling the woolen blankets over him, she found that she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

If only she wasn't engaged to someone unknown and was soon going to be forced into an arranged marriage. She would've, or could've, let herself be involved with someone like him.

Daine paused. The only thing was that someone like him wouldn't look her way at all. A snort filled the room. The man lying in her bed was sound asleep it seemed. She turned slightly towards the cupboard where more blankets were laying. She would sleep on the floor.