“You there,” a man called out.

Cyrene stumbled back from the animal. How could I be so careless? Of course there are men in the woods. Who did I think had shot the beast?

But she hadn’t been thinking. All she could do was rush toward the animal that had given himself for a greater purpose.

A man came galloping into the clearing on a brown steed. The horse looked as beautiful as any her father would have kept in the stables, but the man riding it was not in nobleman’s attire. He had on brown pants, tucked into nearly destroyed riding boots, and a drab green shirt with the laces open in the front, so she could see his tan chest beneath.

Her eyes snapped upward to his face. He was blindingly attractive with light hair and intense brown eyes. He carried himself on the horse as well as King Edric himself. She swallowed back her fear and tried to ignore how attractive he was.

She had to find a way out of this. All she had done so far was stare at him.

Once he got a good look at her, he vaulted off his horse and reached his hand out to help her up. “My lady, allow me to assist you. I thought you were…well, I wasn’t sure what you were doing. What are you doing out in the woods?”

He effortlessly helped her to her feet.

What could she say to him to convince him to leave her alone? The last thing she needed was to be recognized by some strange man. She was wearing Byern clothing with neither hat nor cape to hide her features, and she was alone in a country that forbade such behavior while the Prince of her own country was in the city, looking for her.

She couldn’t even bring herself to play the meek, submissive role and break out the I-got-lost routine.

“I was just in the area.”

“There’s nothing in the area.”

“There are trees.”

“Yes. Yes, there are,” he agreed. “Do you talk to the trees?”

He wasn’t laughing at her, but she could tell she amused him.

“Of course not. Are you finished mocking me? I have more important matters to attend to.” She raised her chin and stormed away from the man, hoping he wouldn’t follow her and ask more questions.

“Stay, Raeder,” the man said to his horse.

Then, she heard him following after her.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I was merely curious. I seek solace in the trees to escape the city. It is quieter out here, and I’m able to think. I would never judge someone who also loved the trees.”

“You might love the trees but not the animals in it,” she said. The heat of the moment was still wrapped around her after the death of the buck. “You took down that buck, but you hardly look as if you are starving. For sport then?” She whirled on him and planted a finger in his chest. “Did you never think of what its death would mean?”

“A hunter rarely considers its prey,” he said, stepping into her finger.

“A hunter who does not consider its prey is destined to become prey himself.”

His eyebrows rose high, and then he smiled, lighting up his entire face. The force of it seemed to knock the breath out of her. All she could do in return was stand there and smile back.

He cocked his head to the side. “You are very different than the rest of the women in this country.”

“Yes…well…” she said with a soft shrug.

“You act as if that is not the first time you have heard that.”

It wasn’t. Far from it.

“So, what would you have me do with the prey the hunter killed for sport?”

Even though something in her mind was buzzing around, telling her to leave, to get out of this situation immediately, she didn’t back down from his challenge. “Give it to the hungry. There are too many in the streets.”

“A kindred spirit,” he whispered. “A woman who stands up to a stranger she meets while all alone, who prefers the solitude of the woods, and who recognizes the needs of others. Pray tell, where did the Creator send you from, and why is this the first time we have met?”

Cyrene flushed and took a step away from him. When he put it that way, she realized how very alone she was out in the woods here with this strange man.

“I…I should probably go,” she said softly.

“Now?”

“Yes. I just remembered I have somewhere to be.”

“Allow me to take you,” he said, gesturing back to his horse.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary.”

Cyrene retrieved her bag and cloak, threw it back over her shoulders, and turned to flee. He grasped her hand to keep her from leaving.

“Please,” he said, bringing her hand to his mouth and softly kissing it. “After I’ve offended you so, please allow me to do this. I have eleven sisters. They would have my hide if they knew that I had made such a fool of myself.”

Just then, three men galloped into the clearing.

“Dean! Dean!”

The man before her shifted so that she was completely blocked from their view, and then he waved his hands at the men. “I’m over here.”

A man on a chestnut-colored horse pulled into the lead. He had dark hair past his shoulders and a full beard. “Bloody hell, Dean, we didn’t know where you had gone. If your father heard about this…”

“Well, he won’t,” Dean said stiffly. “Just a friendly hunting excursion. I took down a buck.”

“Fantastic,” a second man said. He looked younger than the other man with sandy-blond hair and a lean, almost stringy, build. “We’ll get him cleaned up.”

The second man dismounted and strode over to the fallen deer. A third followed behind him.

Cyrene knew, if she would ever have an opportunity to escape, this would be the time. Dean was hiding her from sight from the other men for some purpose, and maybe it would be easier for both of them if she just disappeared.

She bit her lip and contemplated her options. But Dean seemed to have another idea.

“I’ve picked up a young maiden walking in the woods and agreed to take her back to her home.”

All three men snapped their heads over to Dean, who stepped aside so that they could get a look at Cyrene.

“If you three would bring the buck into the city and deposit it with the butcher to be distributed at the shelter, I will be on my way.”

Cyrene’s eyes went wide at his statement. He is actually going to give it away, as I had suggested?

The other men seemed to find this strange as well, and she could hardly blame them.

“You can’t go gallivanting off alone,” the first man said.

“What would your father say?” the second asked.

“Now, wait one minute!” the third cried indignantly.

“I will hardly be in harm’s way by escorting her back into the city,” Dean said.

Cyrene glared at all of them. “I do not need to be escorted anywhere. I am perfectly capable of walking around on my own two legs.”

All the men stared at her.

Oh, right. Aurum women never speak this way.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, backing up. Dean reached for her again, but she avoided him. “I’m going.”

“I just want to help.”

His eyes were so earnest and sincere that she actually felt her walls crumbling. She had a hard time trusting anyone, but in that moment, she trusted her gut to get her through this, as she had so many other times.

“Okay.”

At her acceptance, he nodded firmly with a small smile creeping onto his features.

Dean whistled and his horse trotted over to him, like a properly trained steed. Cyrene stepped up to the side of the horse, and Dean lifted her into the saddle. He did it so easily that she might as well have weighed nothing. Dean swung up into the seat behind her, and she tensed as he slid his hands on either side of her waist to grip the reins.

“Dean,” the first man said. His voice was both irritated and coercive.

“Not now, Darmian.” Dean wheeled the horse around, and Cyrene had to tighten her grip at the sharp turn.

“Faylon and Clym can bring back the animal,” Darmian said. His point was clear—that he should go with Dean.

“Are you going to insist?”

“I’m afraid I must,” Darmian said.

“Come along then.”

Dean set out, whipping past Darmian to take the lead. “Am I right in believing that you are staying in the city?” he asked.

“Yes, at the present moment.”

They trotted along for a few moments before Dean spoke again, “I thought there was an elaborate celebration for the Eos holiday in Byern. Is it not the day of your independence?”

Cyrene nearly choked out a gasp. So, he had known all along that she was not Aurumian.

“It is,” she said, deciding to go along with it, “but I’ve been out of Byern for some time now. I will be spending the Eos holiday elsewhere this year.”

“Here in Aurum?”

“Perhaps.”

“I heard a rumor that there is a grand ball to be held at the end of this week for a Byern Prince who is in town, visiting his sister. Are you to attend?”

Cyrene laughed. “Do you take me for First Class? I had not even heard there was to be a ball.”

She was glad that he could not see her face. She was not sure she could lie so easily to his face.

“My apologies. I do not always understand how your Class system works.”

It was quite simple, but she had grown up with the Class system. As Orden had said, Aurum customs seemed foreign to her because she was a foreigner. Byern’s customs must feel the same way to others who were not from there. She just hoped that not everyone thought so little of Byern citizens. Dean, at least, didn’t seem opposed to speaking with her just because of her background. Maybe he would treat her differently if he knew she was an Affiliate.

When she didn’t respond, Dean continued, “I do not have plans to be in Aurum for much longer. I am here, visiting a friend of my father’s, for a short time, but I must return home soon. The family business is in need of me. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” she said simply.

She wondered what his father did. His friends had acted as if his father would wring his neck for wandering off alone.

“Can I call on you while I’m still here?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“Call on me?” Surely, she had heard him wrong.

“Yes. I’d like to see you again. Court you,” he clarified so that she couldn’t mistake his intentions.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t even know you.”

“But I’d like to get to know you.”

It was too bad that all the circumstances were wrong. He likely thought she was some Third Class merchant’s daughter, out for the holiday season. And she could never tell him the truth—that she was an Affiliate with magical powers, on the run from her country to seek two women, who each had to be two thousand years old, to answer her questions. Courting seemed like the absolute worst thing that could happen right now.

“I’m not sure that is a good idea,” she said softly. “How long are you even going to be in the city?”

“My ship departs in a week.”

“We’re from different worlds, in different places, and in a week’s time, we’ll likely never see each other again. You are offering something that can never be. Now, please, stop. This is far enough. I can walk the rest of the way myself.”

“We’re almost to the city…”

Cyrene rolled her eyes. Men! Creator, I miss Byern.

Well, she had been raised on Ceffy and Astral and her father’s unbroken stallions. She twisted in her seat, judged the distance and speed they were going, and then hopped effortlessly off the saddle.

“What are you doing?” he called as she turned and walked away. He galloped after her. “That was a clever trick. Where did you learn to ride like that?”

“My father. Now, please, leave me be.”

“I was forward. I apologize again, but I cannot simply let you walk away.”

“The answer is no. Now, leave me.” She kept her pace hurried as she strode away, but he didn’t seem to care what she had said.

Just then, a figure came sprinting down the center lane and collided with Cyrene.

“What are you doing?” Avoca yelled, pulling back and grasping her shoulders. “You could have died! How was I to know where you had gone or what you were doing?”

“Ava, I’m sorry,” Cyrene said.

She hadn’t even thought about the fact that Avoca would be able to feel that she had grasped her magic. Avoca had probably panicked when it happened, just like Cyrene would have done if Avoca had tugged on hers.

“You nearly knocked the wind out of me. I had to leave Ceis’f at the docks—”

“Ava!” she snapped.

They were supposed to be in disguise. No one should know their real names.

“Don’t Ava me!”

“We have a guest,” Cyrene said, pointing up at Dean. “He helped me out of the woods.”

“What were you doing in the woods in the first place?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Communing with nature.”

Avoca put her fingers on the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, and breathed out heavily. When she opened her eyes again, she managed a smile for the man. “Thank you for looking after her for me. We have to go now though. I think I have a silver trinket here somewhere,” she said, fumbling in her gown for some money.

Dean laughed lightly at the gesture and shook his head. “No need. But please allow me to walk you two ladies back to your inn. Two unescorted women are not always safe in Aurum.”

“We can manage,” Avoca said testily. “Let’s go.”

Dean trotted after them and called out to Cyrene, “Please, I don’t even know your name.”

“What’s in a name?”

“Everything,” Dean answered. He vaulted off his horse and grasped her hand. “Please, just your name.”

“Then, will you leave?” she asked.

“Yes.”

His face was so open to her in that moment that she felt almost compelled to give him her real name. She didn’t want him to know her as Haenah. She was not some fairy-tale princess, long forgotten, who was only remembered in the slow steps of the Haenah de’Lorlah dance, the one she had waltzed with Prince Kael during what felt like a lifetime ago. She wanted to be herself…the person Dean was obviously falling for.

“Haenah,” Avoca said. “Her name is Haenah.”

Cyrene swallowed with a sigh and then nodded in confirmation.

“Haenah,” he said with a smile. “Perhaps you are a princess then.”

She laughed. “Hardly.”

Dean let her be dragged away by Avoca then. He put his foot in the stirrup and easily hoisted himself up into the saddle once more. Then, he called out to Cyrene, “I will find you again, Haenah de’Lorlah.”