ETAN

A few minutes later they got silently to their feet and she led him to the end of the loft—where they would be over tack and feed rooms, instead of the stables—and where a massive open space yawned into the night. It faced the castle and Etan didn't want to admit, it was an awe-inspiring sight. He walked right up to the edge of the loft opening, where the hay would be forked into wagons below once it had been restocked this autumn. He leaned on the wall of the loft and let out a low whistle looking out. The broad meadow in front of them was silvered by the moon, the grass waving in the breeze. Beyond and to his left crouched the forest, and the maze to the right, then the mighty turrets of the castle rose behind both, silhouetted in front of the indigo blanket of sky punctured by the pinpoint stars.

He stood there for a moment, one arm up against the frame of the wall, just to enjoy the peace and beauty of it.

"Your home is beautiful," he said quietly.

"I've never enjoyed the view more," she murmured and the tone of her voice… Etan turned to find her standing several feet back, her eyes on him, bright and shining.

He smiled and beckoned her to join him. But that light in her eyes died and she shook her head and took two more steps back. "I don't like heights. I'll endure them when I must, but… perhaps you could come back here?"

Smiling, he walked quietly back to where she stood, that light inside him thrumming because she was so close. And in trousers that fit her like a glove.

Dear Lord.

He couldn't resist. He walked right up into her space, smiling when she didn't give ground, but craned her neck up to meet his eyes in the dark.

"It's good to see you again so soon, Ayleth," he breathed, lifting a hand to touch her face.

She looked at him through her lashes. "It's even better to be seen, Etan." And she put a hand to his chest. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he knew if he did, he'd do nothing else and being here, alone… he refused to be the brute who stole her virtue. But, dear God, the Father liked to tempt him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep. I come here sometimes, when I'm… tense. Horses calm me."

"Me too," he admitted and they both smiled.

"We must find a way to ride together," she said.

The memory of Borsche's parting shot echoed in his head: Just make sure she's not a horse herself… I want to help you train your children for Court, not break them to saddle.

Etan pushed it away, along with the wave of laughter that wanted to rise.

He put his hand over hers on his chest and said, "Well, I thank the Father of Lights that He's seen fit to bring us together tonight. There's much we must discuss."

She nodded slowly, and her eyes dropped to his lips.

Stifling a groan, he turned away, but kept her hand in his, pulling her gently towards the hay-strewn floor behind them and spreading his cloak over it before looking at her. "Ladies first," he said.

She settled herself on it, her knees together, leaning on one hand, and Etan lowered himself to lay alongside her, leaning on one elbow, so she sat above him. "Very well," she said, once he was settled. "Where should we start?"

He held her gaze as he considered. "Perhaps with the true history of my people. Followed by the truth of yours."

She tipped her head. "What histories of mine have you heard that were… problematic?"

"Are your people sorcerers and slave owners?"

"What? No!" she squeaked.

"I suspected as much," he said, putting a hand to hers when she looked like she might leap to her feet in defense of her Kingdom. "So, let us tell each other the truth. The rest… the rest we'll figure out later."

She took a deep breath, but nodded. "Okay. You start."