AYLETH

Trayn had been a willing conspirator for her midnight meeting. When she’d whispered in her ear that she had to go back to her rooms, and would Trayn come with her, Trayn got up without hesitation and led her out to the main corridor.

Once they were out there, the guards Ayleth had known Falek would assign to her, had followed them to her rooms. Ayleth made sure to keep her face tense and pained, and didn’t speak to Trayn until they’d reached her quarters and the guards had checked them for her, then taken their places outside the door in the hallway.

As soon as they were alone, Ayleth hushed her and dragged her into the bedroom.

When she asked Trayn to cover and tell anyone who asked she was suffering a stomach complaint, Trayn had gone wide eyed and giggled into her hands.

“I’ll do it,” she whispered, “but on one condition!”

Ayleth had frozen. “What’s that?”

“That you tell me who you’re meeting! And… promise me you won’t… allow things to go too far with—”

“Do not fear, Trayn. I cannot even be sure he understood my suggestion. He may not even come,” Ayleth said, keeping her eyes on her dress that she was smoothing so her friend wouldn’t see the lie. “But if he does, and our meeting is a success, I will tell you when I return.”

Trayn clapped her hands. “Excellent. My money is on Lord Trystan, the Andeluve.”

“Just as long as you aren’t placing that bet with anyone else! Especially the other ladies,” Ayleth hissed as Trayn shook her head quickly. “Now, I must go. Remember. I have a stomach complaint and have gone to lay down.”

Trayn nodded, then gave a cheeky smile.

Ayleth slipped out of an old servant’s staircase that led from the maid’s adjoining room and emptied out on the ground floor near a gardener’s door.

The Butterfly Garden was a small, walled garden for the use of the Royals, guarded at either end because of its access to the main wall, but rarely used, and certainly never visited at night when other gardens were far better lit and offered prettier views.

Just in case, she stayed off the main path, praising the Goddess for gardeners who kept the rosebushes pruned so she hadn’t caught her beautiful dress on any of the thorns.

When she finally darted between the trees and found the small, run-down pavilion that had been hidden here in the shadows for a generation, her heart sank. He wasn’t here yet. She’d known he would probably wait and give her time, but she’d hoped. How she’d hoped…

With a sigh, she brushed off the slats of the cast iron and wood bench, tested it for strength, then made herself comfortable, listening for Etan’s approach.

*****

ETAN

There was only one close call, walking through the corridors. As a male heir, no one would think twice about him stealing off for an assignation in the gardens—except that it’s a Royal garden. But once he reached it, he understood Ayleth’s wisdom in choosing the site. Not only was the garden small and encircled completely by a wall with only two exits, but it was awkward to reach. Most castle-residents either wouldn’t know of it, or would choose a place more easily accessible from the Great Hall.

It was only minutes to find the end of the garden, the pond and the small pavilion under the trees.

And Ayleth, seated on one of the benches, that stunning dress spread out around her, her temple leaned on the pillar, fully asleep.

For a moment he stood, just looking at her. Her pale skin seemed pearl, as if it drew and absorbed the moonlight, despite the deep shadows where she sat. Her hands were clasped in her lap, her shoulders rounded… and she suddenly looked very young.

Help me, Father, he prayed. Help me to honor her innocence, not steal it.

Then, testing the sturdiness of the pavilion floor, he slipped across the space towards her, kneeling in front of her. She didn’t wake.

He took one of her hands. Her head rose and she blinked her eyes as soon as he touched her.

“Etan!” she gasped, sitting upright and looking around.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe. You just fell asleep.”

She sucked in. “You didn’t waste our time letting me sleep, did you?” she whispered frantically, her hands on his shoulders and leaning in as if it were the most natural thing in the world to put herself so close to him.

“No, I only just arrived,” he said with a smile. “I can’t say it wasn’t tempting, though. You are beautiful when you sleep, Ayleth.”

She smiled and put a hand to his face, her fingers curling into the stubble beginning on his jaw. They stared at each other a moment. Then she whispered, “Hello.”

“Hello, Ayleth.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed being with you for… anything.”

Her head tilted and she smiled. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Sir Etan Summit, but I will be forever grateful that you are mine.”

He stood then and she stood with him, leaning into his chest as he cupped her face in both hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs.

He searched her eyes for any of the guile or intent he’d seen in every other woman he’d touched that evening and saw none of it. Just pure joy. And… love.

“You are precious, Ayleth,” he whispered. “Never ask what you did to deserve anything. It isn’t what you did, it’s who you are. You have my heart as surely as if you’d molded it in your own hands.”

She fisted his shirt in both hands and her eyes shone. “And you have mine just as surely,” she whispered. “Despite everything… we are blessed, Etan.”

He nodded, awed by the simple, forthright way she saw the world.

They remained in that moment, drinking each other in, until finally she sighed and murmured, “Etan?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you take your jacket off now?”