AYLETH

Ayleth had never walked into a room when she wasn't known, wasn't seen. She'd never felt invisible, or unimportant. But as she descended the stairs to the feast that evening, she'd also never had a room stand to applaud her.

She was stunned, forced to stand three steps up from the bottom and accept the praise of everyone from her parents to the servants—who beamed smiles of pride larger than her parents'.

Her ladies tittered and gaped and whispered to each other, nudging her when, as they finally weaved into the room to their table, the men gave her heated looks and fancy bows. Ayleth's cheeks heated. For the first time in her life, she truly wished she could be unseen, unnoticed—and could go in search of Etan.

She hadn't been able to think of a single way to find time alone with him in the castle. She'd been praying to the Goddess that he'd meet her in the stables again tonight. That he wasn't… angry. Then resisting the urge in herself. She hadn't done anything wrong! She had helped!

But would he know that?

The feast was a torment—she'd had no chance to circulate in the room and perhaps meet him by chance. She never got away from her table, between the constant streams of current rulers coming to speak to her parents and ask for introductions, and the young Lords and Heirs, either approaching to flirt, or to ask for an introduction with their parents.

She met cunning eyes, heated looks, measuring gazes, and curious ones. But none were the bright green of a new leaf. None stared at her, fierce, from behind ebony hair. None softened when she smiled, or heated when she met them. Not in just the right way.

She ached for him. Some of the burning that had tortured her all day before the fight had been spent by the physical work. But her belly still twirled when she thought of Etan training with his shirt off or remembered his strength and grace in the fighting.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to focus on the people before her. But in truth, she could barely wait until everyone was drunk and she could sneak away.

*****

ETAN

He spent the entire feast cornered at the back, watching her being fawned over by every male under the age of forty and it put him so on edge, in the end, as the crowds gave in to the drink and things got loose and no one would notice, he just left. Borsche tried to call him back, but he just waved a hand at his man and strode to his room to change into riding breeches and then turned on his heel and headed out to the stables.

He was there in minutes, breathing through his teeth and he had to take some time to calm himself. His Stallion had always picked up on his tension. If he took him out in the dark, feeling like this, the beast would likely throw him. So, he forced himself to calm, to breathe, to ease. Turned his mind from Ayleth's blushing smile and all the hungry gazes thrown her way.

But it was a fight. He wanted to ride the horse back to the castle and into the banquet hall, pull her up in front of his saddle, and ride off with her, never to return.

Instead, he forced his steed to walk the half-mile to the beginning of the road, then gave him his head and let the wind wipe away all thought. But it was a poor choice. In the dark the horse might miss a dip in the road, or a stone and be bruised or lamed. So, as soon as the animal began to tire, Etan turned him for home and let him walk the return trip as slowly as he wished.

As the lights from the castle slowly grew ahead of him, he prayed. Prayed that somehow she'd be free to see him tonight. Somehow.

He needed her.

*****

AYLETH

When she was finally able to convince her maids to leave her to sleep, count to one-thousand, and slip into her stable clothes, and clamber down the wall, she hit the grass in the boots and had to stop herself running.

She took a deep breath. It was far earlier than the night before when Etan had come. She was probably setting herself up for a long wait. But she'd been unable to stay in the castle with its heavy stone walls. Her skin crawled with the need to move—with Etan. To be close to him. If she could see him one tick of the clock sooner by being there, waiting, she was going to do it. Everyone else was too drunk now to notice, anyway.

So, it was with a sinking heart that she entered the stable and hurried through, careful to keep her steps quiet, but went straight to the corner where he'd said his horse had been stabled.

She wrinkled her nose. It stank at this end—not the normal smell of the stables, which was strong, but she loved. This was the rot of wood and the stench of mildew.

Why was a Prince's horse being held at this end of the stable?

She made a mental note to speak with Falek about it the next day. But then she turned the corner to where his horse should be, and her heart sank. It wasn't there.

Either he'd already been moved, or Etan had taken him out. Hadn't waited for her. She gave a heavy sigh and leaned on the door for a moment, staring into the empty space. Should she go to the loft? Would he come up there? Or should she stay here? But what if he wasn't alone?

For the first time, she realized that he'd also fought today, been seen and appreciated by the Kingdoms.

Etan may have gathered his own admirers after his showing in the ring. Especially from any of the Kingdoms not allied with Zenithra…

What if he was out riding with one of the other women?

She blinked and frowned, swallowing back the burn of envy. So, when a horse snorted behind her, she didn't really think about it—until she heard sharp, heavy footsteps ringing on the cobblestones, and she gasped and turned to see massive shoulders and angry green eyes bearing down on her.

*****

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