**DAPHNE**
“I was born at my family’s farm in Hadimere. On the night of a full moon in the middle of the summer. I couldn’t tell you which day it was. Only that it was near to midnight.”
Klyesque nods at me knowingly, bringing a frown to my face. “How many winters past?”
“Eighteen,” I say with a smile. “I am the youngest of three. We are all girls.” I am so happy to speak of my sisters that I do not notice the look of despair she is giving me. “Diana is twenty and Isabel, twenty-four. My mother died in the child bed, so Isabel was the only mother I ever knew.” I frown, realizing it as the truth. “I miss her so.”
Klyesque takes out a dagger, then stabs into the rabbit on her plate. I watch her chew thoughtfully as the others continue to eat. “And, do they look much like you? Your sisters?”
I smile, “Strangely, no. Not really. They are much fairer than I. I have freckles and grow too dark under the sun. They have pale, unblemished skin. Beautifully pinkened in the summers only to fall white again in fall. And their hair is black as a raven’s. Long and thick. Their eyes, the deepest blue. Mine are green. I am estranged in that respect, I suppose. But they never let me feel like any less of a sister.”
“How interesting,” Klyesque says and I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Do you look like your mother at least? Or your father?”
My lips quirk as I realize that I do not. “No, not really. It is said that my mother was beautiful, and the splitting image of Diana. And as far as my father, he is dark haired as well, with dark eyes to match. Perhaps that is why he never much liked me. Then again, he doesn’t really like my sisters either. Isabel says that all love died in him with my mother.”
**ASH**
As we near the fork in the river, I fall back toward the rear of the company of soldiers that Hayden leads into the woods. The moment his father died, he had him packed into the church to await proper ceremony in two days’ time.
Why wait so long? So, that he might find the peasant slave and seek justice for his father, the king.
*He knows she didn’t do it.*
*I know she didn’t do it.*
The nobles probably know as well, but they couldn’t care less about the truth. They’re probably just happy that they were not the ones accused. Little do they know, in the end, one of them will die for it.
Someone must take the blame and I’m fairly certain the *actual murderer* will not be doing so.
Hayden smiled at me as he decreed, the slave girl was to be found and brought forth. He even placed a bounty on her head. Twenty pounds of silver for Daphne, alive. Five pounds for her dead body.
*The bastard.*
It is all more apparent to me now that he is aware that I bedded her. He thinks to punish me by obtaining her and keeping her for his own.
Now that we are nearing the river’s fork, I see the horses Klyesque and I rode in on, are gone.
Good.
This means she headed out with them at noon when I did not arrive. She is probably already at my cottage in the eastern part of the forest. It is closer to the palace than Hayden’s is. By at least a day’s ride.
I stop my lame white mare near the river to drink, hopping down from her back smoothly and watching for any notice from the guards.
When I am sure I am well hidden in the dark, I smack the mare in the ass and point her toward home. Toward Hadimere Palace and its stables. Then, I dive behind the boulder. Leaving Hayden and his men to travel onward toward the western woods while I make my way east on foot. It will be harder for them to track me this way. And besides. Once the sun rises, I will find temporary transport.
The next few hours pass quietly. I am headed toward the cottage at a steady jog when I feel them rather than see them.
Wolves.
“Shit,” I say, stopping.
It is not that I am afraid of them, I can easily handle a few mortal beasts. It is that these are no ordinary woods and the creatures in it, are protected by the forest. Although, I do have power here, someone else has much more. For these are not my woods.
I do not want to wake the forest with the killing of its beasts.
And I do not want to see the witch that lives amongst the trees. The last time I did, we did not part ways smoothly.
A squawk sounds to my left and my gaze meets with the beady eyes of a crow.
I smile.
*Perfect.*
Raising my hand toward the animal, I coax it toward the ground as I whistle. It begins to convulse on the branch, fighting my magic as it begins to take hold. A simple crow all alone on a perch is of no consequence. Carrying me can be the one amazing thing it does before it dies.
The crunch of a branch behind me tells me that the wolves are getting ready to pounce. Their growls sound, soft and deadly in the wee hours just before sunrise. I don’t glance back, better they think I am ignorant of them.
Animals are magnificent creatures. They can sense the threat in me. They’re intuitive creatures. Acting on instinct alone. Their intentions are good - however misplaced they may be.
One more whistle and the bird is gliding toward my feet, growing in size as it lands. It is now just magnified enough to carry me, and about the size of a large steed.
I waste no time hopping on its wide back and whispering a soft incantation against its feathered ears. The crow’s wings spread wide, and we lift off the ground just as three white wolves rip out from the trees.
I smile at them. Waving as my new friend and I glide toward the mountaintops. I shall arrive at the cottage faster than I anticipated. Maybe even in time for lunch.