"What?" Silly as it was, the first thing flashing to my mind was the image of the lovely dress I had created, hidden in that little room with its shoes unused while the ball came and went. No concern over the well-being of Christine, just distress over clothes.

"I'm running away," she repeated. She shrugged her shoulder, bringing attention to the bulky pack strapped to her back. "I've never felt so excited in my life. I stole some money, some of my mother's things, some food… not much, but I'm hoping I'm not living on the streets long."

"You're running away?" Here was I, the angel, having difficulty comprehending what she said. "Why are you running away?"

She sighed and coaxed the horse into a walk. I fell into step next to her, jogging slightly to keep up. "Why am I not running away, Fawn? You've seen that place! I don't know how I stood to stay there so long! Just because it belonged to my father…" She said the word with clear distaste. "Well, just because it's my father's home does not mean it's mine. It hasn't been mine for years. I don't think it ever was. It was my father's home and then it was… hers. And she can have it, for all I care. She and her stupid daughters can burn it to the ground."

No. It wasn't supposed to work this way. "Where are you going to go?"

"First place that will hire me, I don't know. I'm smart, I can work hard, I can get a job."

So much for my thoughts of her courtly qualities. Yet I couldn't help but smile. My dear Christine, who should have been royalty, willing to work. I had met few members of court I could say the same about.

"What are you laughing at?"

"I was to prepare you for a ball and here you are throwing yourself into labor."

"I don't mind working. And I'm not going to the ball. We've been through this."

Once again I thought of the dress and the shoes.

"Why not?"

"I just told you, I'm running away. Well, not exactly running because I'm talking to you. I need to thank you, though. I think I know now why you were here. You, my guardian angel. You were here to inspire me to run away."

That could not be it. But… somehow it felt right. I had inspired her to run away somehow. I was not quite sure how I did it, but she was right. Save for the part where she really should not be running away because clearly she was supposed to go to the ball.

Where Wyatt would be.

"You can't run away!" I shouted. In a whirl I appeared on the back of the horse, just behind her. It had been years since I had ridden a horse, and the experience was novel.

"What are you doing? Get off my horse! You're scaring him!" She whipped around, blonde hair swirling into my face.

Truth be told, the horse did not appear at all bothered; rather, he scarcely noticed me.

"Oh, there's plenty of room for both of us," I said shortly.

Christine gripped tightly the reins and sent the horse into a run. I threw my arms around her waist, though I knew I would have no problem staying on the horse. The reaction was merely a reaction.

"You're not going to throw me off the horse."

"I know." She sounded disgusted with me. "But we're running anyway. Till we reach the woods."

The woods weren't that far off.

"Christine, you need to go to the ball. I know you want to."

"Is this one of your angelic truths you know?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"I don't want to go to the ball anymore. The ball is silly. Just a night of dancing and frivolity and people like Melissa and her daughters. I do not want to spend a night with people like that." But her voice was wistful.

"You'd love it. I promise."

We reached the woods, and the horse's pace slowed as it gently found the path with little urging from Christine.

"Did… did you got to balls when you were alive?" she asked.

It was so long ago. "A few."

"Do you mind talking about it?"

"No." I really didn't. That surprised me.

"You were killed the day of your engagement ball, weren't you? What was that like?"

"Awful." I gave a dry laugh. "One single word, but I don't know any other way describe it. Awful. You can see things. Heaven is perfect and wonderful, but it doesn't shield you from these things. It's not supposed to. You see everything, everyone. Getting stabbed was bad, but that soon ended and I was fine but no one else was."

"I'm so sorry, Fawn."

"Don't be. It's supposed to be that way. Heaven isn't supposed to cut you off from everything you loved. It doesn't blind you and stuff you full of every good feeling so you forget love. I think there is a misconception on this side about that."

She nodded and stared on ahead at the trail. "Then why did you come back to this side? Why did you become a fairy godmother? Excuse me, guardian angel?"

We both laughed.

"It was my choice," I said with a shrug. "Plenty of others do it. I was just drawn to it. I guess I was ripped from this world too early. I'm not trying to reclaim my life. That's not why I'm here. It's just that there is so much beauty here that people forget about when they look toward Heaven. People forget it's God's creation."

"I like it," Christine said.

"Then you should go to the ball."

"What does God's creation have to do with Prince Wyatt's coronation ball?"

"It's something to be enjoyed."

"Fawn, why is this so important to—" Her voice trailed off as she stared off-trail into the woods. "Hello?"

I strained my ears. Someone was definitely there. I slid from the horse onto the ground. "Who's there?"

Leaves rustled, and with the snap of a branch a man stepped through the bushes and onto the path. The beginnings of a messy beard covered his chin and hid his age, though I imagined he was somewhere in his middle years. His dress was that of an outdoorsman, dirty but well fitting. A long hunting knife hung at his side.

I wanted to scream. He was bad. I could feel it.

"You're not who I expected to meet," he said with a smile. Nothing lecherous, it was not that kind of bad. But I still stood before Christine, who was still on the horse.

"Pretty girls," he said, tipping his hat. "Out for a ride?"

Christine stared at him.

"There is a ball coming up, I hear. Will you both be in attendance?"

"We have no reason to speak to you, sir," Christine said coldly. Bless her heart for not flirting with this creature.

Something suddenly fit. "You were expecting Grace," I said. "Miss Grace?"

His hesitation was answer enough. "I don't know a Miss Grace. I merely wanted to pay you both a greeting."

He was a silly, silly mortal. I was not afraid of him, I had no reason to be. "She broke her ankle last night. Was she meeting you?"

"What do you think you're talking about?" His hand reached for the knife.

"Go," I commanded Christine. I lifted my hand, and the knife snapped from the man's fingers and fell to the ground.

He cried in dismay and reached for the knife, but without touching him I threw him to the ground. Then I took after Christine.

She really could ride, and the horse could handle the forest trail well. Even at my speed I was barely able to catch up.

"Did you hurt him?" she asked as I ran along beside the horse.

"Not much. I hate to hurt anyone, I'm sorry to say. I just delayed him. Don't worry, you're hidden."

"What?"

"You're invisible. You can slow down."

The rushing green of running stopped as I slowed down with Christine and the horse. She all but tumbled to the ground, panting. I steadied her.

"So I'm invisible?" she asked between breaths. "I don't feel much different."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the man, dizzy but standing and moving, looking for us. He was so close, just a few bends in the path away, visible through the threes. His gaze fell over us without seeing.

"I should have done it before," I said. "I'm so sorry."

We stared at the man. After a minute, he vanished, feet tromping through the brush.

Christine slipped down next to a tree, tears in her eyes. "I was so scared. You must think me the biggest baby. Here I am, so proud of myself for running away only to be afraid of the first danger that comes along. And I would always handle myself so well in the towns."

"You knew he was bad," I said, sitting down next to her and stroking her hair. "I saw that much in your eyes."

"Is he the one Grace is meeting? Are you sure?"

"It makes sense and he certainly reacted!" I sighed and watched the horse who was now chomping at some weeds. "I wish I only knew why."

"You still aren't going to make me go back, are you?"

I probably should, but I didn't want her in that household anymore than she wanted to be there. And now that the danger was passed the woods were peaceful and green, the perfect example of how woods should be. They seemed the perfect thing to run to. "No, we'll stay here tonight."

"And the ball?"

I smiled. "Christine, I made you a dress."

Her mouth fell open. "You made me a dress?"

"I want you to wear it. It's beautiful. You'll be beautiful in it."

"I can't go."

"You don't think you deserve to go?"

"No. I would go if I could. I'd love to be there."

"You're finally being honest with me."

Christine drew her knees into her chest and plucked some grass to twist in her fingers. "I have a question."

I nodded.

"It's… it's about my father. Probably the last thing you want to hear about." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. He's the reason I can't go. I can't go to something like that after what he did. Not when I carry his name. What he did…" Her face fell into her knees as the tears came. "I can't stand what he did. I can't. All those years I thought he loved he, that he was good." She choked back a sob. "So my question is, do you think he loved me at all? Could someone like that…? I'm sorry, it's such a selfish question."

"No, it's not," I said quickly. "Not at all." And I knew then why Bernard was here. It wasn't for me, not fully. "Christine, he did everything because he wanted what was best for you. I know he loves you."