Zachary greatly enjoyed his late night rides, for they were one of the few times that no one demanded anything of him. It had taken considerable effort for him to finagle the alone time, for even though he was the younger son of the king, he still had a handful of Weapons assigned for his protection. They had insisted on accompanying him for a time, but after he achieved the rank of swordmaster two years before, they finally agreed that he could have the time to himself. He had agreed to use a horse other than his own and wear no insignia of his rank to appease them, conditions he followed even when he was in Sacor City.

Truthfully, Zachary would much prefer to be riding through the fields of Hillander rather than the forest outside of Sacor Keep, but he knew he had no choice but to attend the biannual Lord Governors' meeting. And so he had arrived in Sacor City the previous day, early enough that his father would be happy with his punctuality but not so early that he was the first Lord Governor in the city and would thus have all of his father's attention. Of course, his father's attention was not the only attention he wanted to avoid—Zachary also worked to avoid his brother Amilton as much as possible while in Sacor City. Fortunately, Amilton seemed disinclined to see Zachary as well, so they had so far avoided each other this visit.

Zachary was so lost in thought that he admittedly did not pay much attention to his surroundings. He was very familiar with the forest outside Sacor Keep, having spent a good deal of time there as a child, so he could let his thoughts wander without focusing on where he was going. However, the sound of galloping hooves nearby finally broke him from his musings. He glanced over in just enough time to see another rider move next to him. Almost immediately, the other rider fell forward on the horse. Zachary frowned, wondering what had happened, especially when the other rider fell to the ground a few seconds later.

He quickly dismounted and started to the place where he had seen the other rider fall. Before he could reach it, however, the rider issued a warning. "Behind!" The word was soft, but Zachary heard it clearly on the still night. Immediately, he spun, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword on instinct. He drew the blade just as the two men behind him came near enough to fight. The first swung his blade toward Zachary, but Zachary quickly parried, knocking the sword to the side. Without really thinking of what he was doing, his sword moved to the right, blocking his second opponent. It was a familiar dance and one Zachary had perfected over the years. His opponents, though skilled, did not have his grace or training, and it did not take long for them to fall beneath his blade

Once satisfied that both opponents were dead, Zachary turned to his rescuer. In the moonlight, he caught a hint of green. That, along with the fact that the horse had not moved from its rider's side despite the cacophony of battle, told him that his rescuer was a Green Rider. Kneeling beside the rider, Zachary caught a glimpse of long, sleek brown hair pulled into a braid and a body with far more curves than his own. So his rescuer was not just a Green Rider but a woman as well—and a lovely one at that, at least as far as he could tell in the dim light. From his position beside her, it did not take Zachary long to ascertain the cause of her collapse. The shaft of an arrow stuck out of her shoulder. The wound did not look overly deep, but Zachary knew that many poisoned their arrows to make them more effective. He did not have much time.

Quickly, but with care, Zachary reached beneath the woman and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to his borrowed horse, setting her gently on the saddle before mounting behind her. He kicked his horse into a canter, knowing a full gallop would be too dangerous in the dense trees that separated him from the castle. Her horse seemed to understand what was going on, for he fell into step behind them without any guidance.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Zachary let the reins loose, squeezing his horse tighter until they reached a full gallop. At such a speed, it did not take long for him to reach the doors of the castle, and he dismounted quickly without even bothering to tie up the horses. He had more pressing issues to deal with. Cradling the woman in his arms, he entered the castle at a sprint, turning toward the mending wing.

Though it felt like he ran for hours, it was likely no more than a minute or two before he reached the doors of the mending wing. He burst through unceremoniously, and the mender on night duty glanced up with a frown. Her expression quickly turned to one of surprise at seeing the young prince, and she ordered her assistant to find Master Mender Gracia. "What happened?" she questioned as the young assistant hurried from the room.

Zachary sucked in a deep breath before he was able to respond. "She stepped in front of an arrow meant for me. I think it was poisoned."

"The blood?"

"Not mine," he told her. Stepping forward, he carefully lay the woman on the bed the mender indicated, his eyes studying her for a moment. He relaxed slightly when he saw the rise and fall of her chest.

"The arrow is still in her shoulder," the mender muttered. "We need to get it out." She glanced around, her frown deepening. Focusing back on Zachary, she said, "You're going to need to help hold her."

"Right." Somewhat nervously, Zachary stepped forward, placing his hands where the mender pointed.

"This is going to hurt. She's probably going to wake up somewhat and fight, so I need you to hold her tight."

"Okay." He pressed down tighter, hoping he wasn't hurting her. The mender gave a short nod, obviously satisfied with his hold, and then placed both hands around the shaft of the arrow. Without warning, she gave a sharp tug, pulling the weapon free. The woman beneath Zachary's hands regained consciousness with a scream, writhing to free herself from his grip. "It's okay," he assured her, knowing even as he said the words that he had no idea if they were actually true. "You're going to be okay. You're in the mending wing now." Her eyes snapped open, and her startling blue gaze settled on Zachary. For a moment, he lost himself in it, the meaningless assurances no longer falling from his lips. He thought for sure she stared back, but it was not long before her eyes rolled back in her head, and he felt her begin to writhe beneath him once more.

"She's seizing," the mender said, setting the arrow aside so she could help Zachary hold as well. "Try and keep her from rolling off the bed or hurting herself." Zachary nodded wordlessly, too concentrated on doing just that to respond verbally. The door opened suddenly, and Zachary heard the familiar voice of Master Mender Gracia.

"What do we have?" she questioned.

"Arrow to the shoulder, likely poisoned."

"Antidote?"

"We don't know what the poison is."

"Given her symptoms and how quickly it's working, I suspect westria or valitrium."

"Do I have authorization to use those antidotes?"

"You do," Zachary interrupted, letting the command gained from years as a Lord Governor seep into his tone. Both menders looked to him. "Just give them to her. If anyone questions, you can point them to me."

Gracia nodded. "You heard Lord Hillander." The younger mender nodded, leaving the room. The woman had stopped seizing and now seemed unnaturally still. Gracia bent over her, examining her closely.

"She's not. . ." Zachary began, but he was unable to finish the query. Gracia understood, however. She shook her head.

"She's not dead yet, but if she doesn't get an antidote in the next ten minutes, she likely will be. Even with it, it's going to be a near thing."

"She saved my life," Zachary muttered, still staring at the mysterious young woman. Gracia looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"This arrow was meant for you?" Zachary nodded. "In that case, I would suggest you do everything in your power to find out who did this and be extra cautious until you do. Both westria and valitrium are nasty poisons and highly illegal. Whoever shot this arrow obviously does not care about the law nor if you die a very nasty death." The younger mender returned with two syringes, and Gracia took them from her quickly. Pulling down the waistband of the young woman's trousers, Gracia plunged both into the young woman's thigh, one after another, injecting the antidotes into her body. Once she completed that task, she turned back to Zachary. "It will be a few hours before we know if those worked, and likely a couple days before she wakes."

Zachary knew it was her way of dismissing him, but he found himself reluctant to leave the woman's side. "I'd like to stay with her for a short time at least. Just until we know if she's out of the woods." Gracia studied him for a moment but eventually nodded. Turning back to the younger mender, she gave some final instructions, but Zachary did not hear them, for he had returned his focus to his rescuer. She was younger than he first realized, likely still a teenager. He had guessed her occupation correctly though—in the dim light of the mending wing, her uniform was quite distinctive. He wondered who she was. Given his friendship with Laren Mapstone, he had spent more time than most would expect in the company of Green Riders, but he did not recognize the young woman in front of him. Likely, she had not been a Green Rider for long given how young she was. He wondered why she had come to his rescue or how she knew that it would even be necessary. For a brief moment, he wondered if she was in league with the men who attacked them, but he quickly dismissed that thought. For one, it would make no sense for her to put herself in danger to rescue him if she was. For another, he was fairly certain he knew why the men attacked him if not who they were, and a young Green Rider did not play a part in that.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, he set his hand on top of hers on the bed. It was warm underneath his palm, a realization that comforted him greatly. His eyes scanned her face again. Despite its pallor, she really was quite beautiful. He felt his heart rate increase in a way it hadn't since he was a young teenager. He definitely had never seen her before—he would have remembered a face like hers.

Movement beneath his hand startled him from his contemplation. He glanced down and saw her hand turned, its fingers curling with his own despite the fact that her eyes still had not opened. Smiling slightly, he clasped her hand more tightly, settling in for a long vigil.

Unfortunately, Zachary had to leave for an early morning meeting, but he was able to stay long enough for the mender to assure him that the mysterious Green Rider was likely to fully recover. He was unable to make his way back to the mending wing until late that evening, but the mender on duty that night assured him that the young woman was recovering more quickly than expected and could be awake as early as the next day. Zachary thanked her before settling into the chair beside her bed as he had the previous night. A few minutes later, the door to the Mending Wing opened again. Zachary glanced over to see a familiar figure standing there, looking just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. "Laren?" he questioned.

"Moonling? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I asked first." Laren crossed her arms, eyebrows raised as she stared at him. Laren had known him since he was a small boy, and though Zachary thought she respected him (on most days), she was also not afraid to stand up to him despite their relative positions.

"I was just. . . visiting."

"Visiting Karigan?" Her brow furrowed. "I was unaware you were acquainted."

"We aren't really." Zachary gave a quick synopsis of the events of the night before. As he spoke, the furrows in Laren's brow deepened.

"They attacked you in the forest?"

"Yes. But Karigan stepped in front of the arrow. She saved my life. What is it?"

Laren took a deep breath. "She was right," she muttered.

"Right about what?"

"The attack." Though she was still facing Zachary, Laren seemed to be speaking to herself, as if she had forgotten he was in the room.

"She knew about the attack?"

"She overheard a conversation in the gardens the other day that made her think two men were planning to kill someone who would be riding alone through the forest."

"And you knew about this?"

"She told me about it." She obviously saw Zachary's stormy expression, for she hastened to explain. "You have to understand, Zachary, she didn't know who the potential victim was, who the murderers were, or even what day and time this was supposed to take place. What was I supposed to do?"

"What did you do?" Her silence answered the question effectively. "I see. Is she the type to tell lies normally?"

Laren sighed. "No, but she's had a busy couple of months. I just thought she might be making more of the conversation she heard than she needed to. Obviously, I was wrong, and I am truly sorry for it."

"I'm not the person you should be apologizing to."

"I know." She glanced over at Karigan. "How is she?"

"The menders say she'll make a full recovery."

"Good." Silence descended over them for a minute or so. Finally, Laren broke it. "I can stay with her now. I'm sure you have other things you need to do."

"I'm fine here," Zachary argued. Laren huffed but said nothing further as she sank into a second chair on the opposite side of Karigan's bed.

Laren sat with him for about half an hour before she said she needed to leave. Once more, she tried to convince Zachary to come with her, but he refused. After she was gone, he grabbed Karigan's hand again, finding comfort in the warm flesh next to his own. Eventually, his lack of sleep the previous night caught up to him, and his eyes started to grow heavy. He let his head drop to the mattress next to the unconscious young woman, falling into a deep slumber.

Movement woke him some time later. Blinking, he glanced around, noting that only a faint light filtered in through the single window in the mending wing, so it was still early. Glancing at the bed in front of them, he noted that Karigan was stirring. She tossed her head from one side to the other before slowly opening her eyes. Her brow furrowed in confusion when she saw him, but when she opened her mouth to speak, all that came out was a cough. Quickly, Zachary retrieved a glass of water from her bedside table, holding it to her lips. After a couple sips, she pulled away, and he set the glass aside carefully. "Thank you," she croaked.

Zachary could not help the slight inclination of his eyebrows at the irony of her words. "It is I who should be thanking you," he told her. She stared at him in confusion for a moment before recognition dawned in her eyes.

"You're the rider they were shooting at."

"I am. You saved my life, very nearly at the cost of your own."

She blushed slightly, looking away from him. "I didn't really think. I saw the arrow and just. . . acted."

"And I am very grateful I did. And that you did not listen to your Captain." She stared at him in surprise, and he smiled gently. "Captain Mapstone and I are old friends. She was by to see you earlier and told me the full story."

"Did you figure out who they were? The men in the forest?"

Zachary sighed. It had been a topic of a rather lengthy meeting with his Weapons that day. "Unfortunately not. They recovered the bodies of the two swordsmen, but both of them have tattoos indicating they were mercenaries. Most of those men don't really have names, at least not ones that anyone knows. It's likely the archer was also a mercenary, especially given what you overheard."

"Do you know who hired them?"

Zachary's expression darkened. "I have my suspicions." He did not elaborate further, and Karigan fortunately did not press though he could tell she was curious. They sat in silence for a few moments, Karigan's hands dancing in her lap. Zachary watched her, still feeling a pull to be near her. After helping her to drink, his hand had returned to the side of her bed though it no longer rested on hers. It felt much colder than before. With those thoughts in mind, he remarked, "I try to go riding at least once a week when I'm in Sacor City, usually two or three times. I happen to have a free evening next Tuesday, so I was thinking I would go out then. Though given recent events, I will probably head out early evening, before the supper bell, and stick to the field instead of the forest."

"You think that's safe?"

"Let's just say that I will take additional precautions. Besides, the person who made the attempt last time will not try again so soon. He risks showing his hand if he does, and he cannot afford that."

"You sound very certain of that."

Zachary sighed, glancing at the wall behind her as he considered his next words carefully. "Let us just say that it is not the first attempt on my life nor will it likely be the last. It was admittedly one of the more effective—or at least, it would have been had you not been there to save me for which you have my deepest gratitude. But it did not work, and that means there will have to be a new plan."

"You don't sound scared."

"I decided long ago that I would not spend life constantly looking over my shoulder. I try to take reasonable precautions to deal with threats but still allow myself to enjoy my life." She considered that for a moment, nodding thoughtfully. "If I have not scared you off, I would welcome company during my ride. I assure you, I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety."

"So you would gamble with your own life but not the lives of others?"

Zachary startled slightly, unused to hearing such challenge from anyone but Laren, Amilton, or his father. Most people wanted to do everything they could to please him, hoping to curry favor. However, he found himself surprisingly pleased with her defiance. It was nice for someone to treat him as an equal even if she did so partly because she did not know who he was. "I don't consider it a gamble, per se. I do take precautions, but sometimes. . ." He trailed off, realizing that she was right. His nightly rides alone had been a gamble from the beginning, and the longer he completed them, the more of a gamble they became as he grew complacent. And because of that complacency, she had nearly been killed. "I'm sorry." She seemed surprised by his apology. "You're right. I should have been watching more closely or riding with someone else or riding a different route. My inattention nearly got both of us killed, and that's inexcusable." They stared at one another for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. The chiming of a clock nearby finally broke Zachary's attention from Karigan's face, and he glanced over to see that he needed to leave. He would already be late for his first meeting of the day, something he was sure Amilton would delight in lording over him. "I unfortunately have to go, but you have given me much to think about. I will look for you on Tuesday, but I understand if you have other plans." With that, he stood and swept from the room.