He was starting to become drowsy, after all, he had woken early and had been awake all day and now into the evening, or perhaps it was early morning—time didn't feel real anymore while he followed the girl with green eyes. Still, he managed to tag along behind her through the forest, through the darkness, cold, fog, and what had been light rain turned back to a thin wet mist. She seemed not deterred but adamant in each of her steps.

"So may I ask where your family is?"

"I know not where they are," her answer was void of any emotion.

"How can that be?"

"I was raised by farmers, but I was not their true child. I left them for they only used me for chores and cared not to show me the love they had for their other children."

He was taken aback by her honesty. He was saddened at her answer as well. How could they not adore a child so pretty and helpful?

"Do you have any idea who your real—"

"I wish not to talk about it further. It angers me, and I'm very unpleasant when I am angry," She cut him off and he heeded her serious tone. He continued to follow her in silence, holding his pained shoulder.

There seemed to be light trickling through the trees slowly, an approaching dawn. The dull light caught upon her hair and a golden glow seemed to wrap around her. It wasn't that he was enamored of her—how could he be so quickly? Still, he found her fascinating to be around and realized even though it was the night he almost could have died, he had felt at ease around her—she had saved him, this mysterious lass of the wood.

"Do you want to know anything about me?" he offered, ready to give answers away.

"Why do you look so unsure of yourself?"

"What?"

"Why do you look so—"

"No, I heard you," he changed his stance to try and convey some confidence—that he was sure of himself but even he was unsure of how to do that. Halden was much better at it.

She considered him and shook her head, seeming to know his pitiable struggle.

"I don't want to be who I am," he said softly—she was the first person he had ever told out loud.

Her eyes suddenly widened with a sort of recognition and she stepped up to him, so near that he had to step away and look down upon her.

"Neither do I."

They stared at each other for a moment. A rooster's call broke their concentration and he sucked in a breath of relief, knowing it was the sound of civilization. Not far away was his city. She was still staring at him, perhaps trying to read him and uncover who he truly wanted to be. He could only guess at who she would rather be. She was slightly dirty from the forest, and clothed in mere rags.

"I can help you. Let me help you."

She raised her eyebrows with doubt, "How?"

He grabbed her hand and started ahead at a faster pace, feeling refreshed at the thought that he could very well repay her for her help.

He began to see clearer as the forest dwindled—the fog was thinner as daylight grew and he made out roofs of buildings behind a large stone wall. Wendbury. He was finally home. She grew nervous and tried hiding behind him as they neared the gates to the city. The guards that were posted approached him with worried faces.

"My Lord! You're alive!"

"Aye," Jaythen nodded as they opened the gates for him. He held firmly to Avalyn's wrist but noticed the frantic darting of her gaze every which way. No one was out so early in the dawn, the streets were quiet. She has nothing to fear, she will be rewarded soon.

Upon his entrance to the castle, his mother and cousin were called for.

"Grace upon the Savior, you are alive!" His mother cried and threw up her arms before running to him and embracing him. She was crying and babbling about having prayed all night for him to return safely. She then saw the state of his shoulder and had the physician called for.

"I do apologize for losing you, cousin. It wasn't until we were too far gone that we realized you were not with us, and when we went back, you had vanished," Halden also embraced him, although Jaythen was still slightly annoyed that Halden thought finding the unidentified creature was more pressing than finding his lost cousin.

"Go up to see your father now. He was worried to death, and it was a miracle he didn't die at the terrible news you were lost in—who is this?"

His mother was crying no more and suddenly staring—finally noticing the girl her son was holding hands with. She was a pretty thing with wide green eyes and rags for a garment.

"Mother. This is Lady Avalyn of Prition," he lied and named a city on the other side of the Imperial City. "She had befallen ill fates on the road toward St. Toby's and had to look to the forest for safety—where I found her. If my madam approves, I have invited her to stay at our court.

Both his mother's and Avalyn's faces went pale—but for entirely different reasons. His mother looked to her, searching for something and seemed to find it when her eyes landed on the jeweled amulet around her neck.

"She may. After all, she has been through an ordeal," his mother nodded stiffly, clapped her hands and barked out orders for chamber maids to take Avalyn to bath and to see her to a spare bedchamber for sleeping.

The physician ushered Jaythen away into the solar where he untied the soggy piece of underskirt around Jaythen's shoulder and called for clean warm water, thread, and needle.

"It doesn't need sewn does it?" Jaythen groaned and laid back into the setting chair.

"Just a few stitches, it will be quick. What happened to you lad?" the old man soaked a cloth in the water and dabbed the dried blood away. A fresh seam of blood had been seeping out of the wound, although slowly.

"I was attacked by a wolf whilst in the forest."

The physician grumbled sympathetically and closed one eye to see where to thread the needle. Jaythen gritted his teeth as the needle pierced the top layer of his flesh and then across the rift, and back. It was over quickly as the physician had stated. Jaythen looked to his shoulder but only a bit of where the wound was sewed up was in his line of view, as his neck couldn't bend any further.

He called upon Warwick to draw up a bath, as he was dirty from being outside all day and night. Warwick's least favorite duty was drawing a bath, for it required to haul buckets of water and handle scalding hot stones from the fireplace. Jaythen knew this but was secretly punishing his servant for letting Halden leave him alone in the woods. Sometimes he knew he was too lenient with the lad. While he waited, he removed his dirty clothes and brushed his fingers through his hair with an exhausted sigh. The wound in his shoulder still smarted terribly. He also thought of the girl with green eyes, and wondered if by lying for Avalyn—giving her a noble's credence—that she would now be happier, being someone else.

"My Lord, your bath is ready," Warwick stood at his doorway and bowed stiffly—a subtle hint of his annoyance.

Jaythen nodded and went to the adjoining room in which his bath resided. The water was hot with heated rocks and felt good to him. He sat there relaxed for a moment before his mind returned that memory he never finished from the afternoon before.

He was wrapped in his cloak, his heavy, nervous breath hitting the air in clouds of vapor. It was a bitter February evening but she had told him to meet her behind the garden orchard. All the plants and flowers were dead, causing his surroundings to be quite depressing.

He waited and shivered beneath his clothes, thinking, 'Why am I doing this? Do I want to know her name that badly?'

He was about to turn and return to his chambers, giving up on meeting with her—she had probably told him to meet her there and not have shown just for her own amusement—but she was there when he turned.

"You," he stated with surprise.

"Yes, did you think I would not come?"

He shrugged. She pulled the hood of her cloak down so he could see her whole face. She was very lovely, with shiny auburn hair and a dimpled smile. "So, were you going to tell me your name?"

She nodded, "I don't know your name though, only that you are the son of a count."

"My name is Jaythen."

"Jaythen," she seemed to taste his name on her tongue then she snuggled up against his torso and stood on her toes so her lips were near his ear, and when she spoke, the heat of her breath soothed him, "I'm Nicolette."

The water had become tepid, he dunked his head into the water before getting out of the bath, trying to cleanse his mind of that memory—for it only brought him a longing he could never satisfy. Once he was dry and clothed, he obeyed his mother's request and visited his father's chambers. The man looked like he was clinging to the last threads of life.

"Father?"

"Son, I'm happy to hear that you are safe. They've told me you were lost in the Great Forest."

"I was, but I found my way home—"

"I do apologize for thrusting the responsibility of finding a bride upon you. You must understand that I will die soon—and I need to see that all my work wasn't for nothing. You are eighteen, and have had your freedom."

"What are you saying father?"

"I have had a lady secured for you, she is beautiful, wealthy, and has taken an interest in you—"

"No!" his mind was thrown into a panic.

"Jaythen! Be reasonable."

"No, I have already chosen a bride," the panic had caused him to say the most ludicrous of things.

His father sucked in a rapid breath, "Since when?"

Jaythen took a steady breath before replying, "This morning."

"Who?"

Her name is Lady Avalyn of Prition, and she is to be my wife."

The Count scrutinized his son with a hard gaze, but Jaythen gave no indication of happiness or sadness. His heart was racing, hardly believing he had actually said it—that he was so desperate to not be forced into wedlock to lie. He knew he could not take it back. How would she react? The tiniest of voices in his conscious told him she would never accept it, for she had only just met him and so far he had done only one thing in her favor.

"Very well then, I shall inform the former bride's family of your cancellation and you shall undergo preparation for a wedding at once."

He tightened his jaw and his stomach flip-flopped at the idea of being married within the week. "Isn't it enough for you that we're engaged?"

"Not if you say her name with such indifference—you certainly don't love her—which seems so important to you. I do believe you are trying to trick me for I have never heard of such a girl. I demand to see her."

"My Lord, she is exhausted from our journey through the woods, as a matter of fact, so am I. I bid you goodnight—or rather good morning." He yawned extra wide to get his point across—and to keep his father from asking further questions. His eyes were getting heavier as he traveled the corridors to his room but he stopped in front of the spare bedchamber Avalyn was to stay in.

Without knocking he grabbed the handle and opened it, planning to warn her of what he had done. It was quiet in the chamber except the soft breaths of a sleeping girl could be heard. He closed the door behind him and carefully approached the bed as if she was a doe in the forest and the slightest sound could awaken her and send her away.

She lay on her back with her arms sprawled across the pillows, her sooty lashes brushing her cheeks, hiding her fabulous eyes. Green was his favorite color—which is why he liked her eyes so much, not just because they were wide and conveyed her emotions so well. She is to be my wife he thought and dared touch a lock of her dark gold-colored hair that was strewn across the pillows as well. She won't marry you. She barely talks to you, and only regards you with annoyance or suspicion. They will all laugh at you when they find out, his bothersome conscious teased. He shook his head, perhaps I can convince her to play along, just until he dies—and then she can leave. He tried to convince himself. It was a funny feeling he had though, knowing that he hardly knew her but deeper down, knew he would be regret it if she were to leave.