The sun had begun to set by the time anyone found Aylee. Apparently, her father had considered sending a search party for her, so much had her behavior disturbed him, but Chester, who had just returned from a busy day, had talked him out of it.

Since recovering from his injury, Chester had spent very little time in the Hembry home. He had passed his seventeenth birthday in convalescence, but once he had arisen, the whole town of Bennigton seemed bent on celebrating his healing. Aylee could not fathom why citizens from all the surrounding villages now sought her little brother out for his “wisdom,” a term at which Aylee scoffed.

True, since recovering he had grown more somber, had paid closer attention to details, had seen deeper into the needs of his patients – both human and animal. At seventeen, though? Surely even a wise seventeen-year-old could not understand more deeply than a village elder. She understood people's reaction, though – Chester's soul had grown much older than his years, and she now found great comfort in his presence.

Chester's face had mended well, though his right lip would not rise quite to the level of his left when he smiled, and the discrepancy gave him the expression of a near-constant smirk. A line married his eye to the corner of his mouth, but he claimed with some certainty that the line would fade with time. Of all of her worries, Chester's injury had turned into the least concerning. With his wild main of nearly white-gold, curly hair, Chester had rather gained by the mystique that such a scar offered him than suffered by it. Not only had his business expanded after his recovery, but upon entering back into Bennigton society, girls had flocked to him as animals once had. That transformation which Aylee had never believed possible had come to pass.

Now she could hear his newly deep voice calling across the field to her. She lay down and tried to move the grass in such a way that he would not even see her when upon her. If he trod on her, she would hardly even mind.

Before she could finish her arrangement, her brother poked his head between some rushes not two feet away from her. “How did you…?” she began.

“If you wish to hide, you must remain still in the future. I could see the reeds' movement from the top.”

Aylee sighed in frustration, more at her misery than at her failure to elude her brother. As the only soul who had shared her travels, she felt less confounded by his presence. Too, he seemed to understand that she did not wish to talk about her time with Jess and his troops.

As if to contradict her thoughts, Chester seated himself beside her and prepared himself to speak with a deep breath. “Aylee,” he began, “do you have any idea why Bruison has been stationed here for so long? Is it really to protect our family from Malchus?”

Aylee silently thanked her parents for manufacturing the story to cover for the presence of a guard perpetually by her side. Fortunately, Bruison had seen no great conflict in allowing the story to stand, and Aylee had begun to suspect that he resented his responsibility, finding it ungentlemanly in his leader to leave a young lady waiting in a state of uncertainty for so long.

“Why else would he be here?” Aylee hedged. “Certainly, Malchus would gain great satisfaction in finding me unattended so he could exact his revenge on me. He would no doubt possess even more motivation, now that he holds nothing to lose.”

“All of that is true, Aylee, but I have grown to suspect that he is here for another purpose. Did you,” Chester hesitated, studying his hands for a moment before continuing. “Did you do something to upset our host during the two months we stayed with him?”

Chewing her lip, Aylee peered away from her brother towards the forest's edge. If only she could disappear into the shadowy darkness of the canopy, hide herself away and never have to answer such a question.

“I am afraid, brother, that you have divined rightly. I’m not certain exactly what he blames me for, but I certainly did offend him. While we stayed with Jess, I suffered a severe misconception about his character. Just before he left the camp for good, I unfolded my accusations to Itchy and tried to persuade him to leave with me. I understand now why he would not, since he was certain of his master’s innocence, but at the time, I blamed him severely. By the time I doubted myself, Itchy and I had both found ourselves assigned guards. I did not have a moment alone with either of them before Jess tore out to whatever important task called him away, and I was escorted here. I know not whence he has gone nor why he has not recalled me for whatever justice he intends.”

Chester said nothing for several moments, and when Aylee finally peered up at him through the gathering evening, his face wore a profoundly worried look. “What exactly did these misconceptions entail?” he finally inquired, his tone suspiciously calm. She never knew her brother to bother with stoicism, and such extreme attention to controlling his emotions made Aylee fear that they ran deep.

“When I first arrived at the camp, I imagined him the errant noble. I saw many little connections that I could not easily explain, but I knew nothing definitive. I had stumbled upon him one night, dressed in noble attire and heading out with a cadre of soldiers. He always left Itchy behind, and I did not trust such an omission. At the time, I did not honestly suspect him capable of all the evils of which I had heard, so I gave them over easily until Glowigham.”

“Glowigham? But he pulled you from the fire! He saved you from Malchus!”

“Did he?” Aylee queried, her heart swelling at the thought. “I held no memory of the time in the shed, perhaps the god’s grace for me so that I am not troubled by terrors, but it gratifies me to know that he did so, especially after how I had treated him within the walls.”

“But what made you doubt him after Glowigham?”

“When I observed Malchus outside the walls, my complacency disappeared. With his troop stood Jess, on his steed, and attired in the same seal that Malchus and his troops wore – or so I had thought. Just before he left us for good, I realized that his seal was altered. They were not the same; Itchy had assured me, but I had disbelieved him. So, I imagined that Jess held me in reserve for Malchus. I realize the foolishness now, but Lady Willen had spoken of a ‘noble sponsor’ for the destruction. I knew Malchus responsible for the destruction, and I believed Jess his sponsor.”

“Oh, Aylee. That is quite a history you had created.”

“Well, Jess admitted to me that he was a noble. He wore a gilded insignia, which held more splendor than most seals I had seen from the lesser nobles near Bennigton. When I heard the report of the Capigan imposter, that gilded banner spoke his guilt more than anything else. I could not really believe it of the man I had traveled with, but he withheld his identity from me, and I had seen so many little proofs. Perhaps I feared entrusting him with more of my affection than I ought,” she gazed at her brother, but still no reaction, so she continued. “But I honestly believed that if I had allowed his attentions, I would allow the attentions of a criminal. Only, Father has just now broken my heart, unknowingly pointing out that the real patron behind Malchus was by the High Counselor. I divined the basic truth of the situation, but not the identity of the culprit. Jess was decidedly not the rogue noble, nor his sponsor, though I still don’t know who he is. Worst of all, I refused myself an opportunity at the greatest happiness I might ever see. Though I pretended that it did, it matters not his identity. It only matters that I knew him to be good, and I refused to acknowledge it. All of that would have been enough to offend a noble and set his determination against me, but then…”

To his credit, Chester betrayed no curiosity. Just waited to let Aylee make her own choice to explain. Finally, she worked up the nerve.

“Then I kissed Itchy.” She let the words settle before explaining further. “Right in front of Jess, to offend him. To cause him a form of pain as he cause pain to me. It was petty, and childish, and – not very nice to Itchy, though he forgave me readily enough.”

After such a declaration, Aylee could find no more strength to continue. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin upon them. When Chester said nothing, she stared toward the marsh and the stars that had begun to rise there.

“Aylee,” her brother reached his hand and placed it on hers. “I pray you consider Jess’s character before you react to what I will now tell you.”

Confused, Aylee turned to face him. “What you will tell me?”

“Remember that Jess you experienced, not the one you imagined. That he is kind and patient. That he is wise and discerning. Remember the honor that you allowed his character when you let your suspicions rest for a while. While there is truth in your manufactured tale, the most important one was not entirely accurate. I understand why you interpreted events in such a way – I, too, had heard about the false Lord Capigan. No one, though, suspected the true identity of the young noble of the rumors, he who had restored the towns of the region.”

Aylee turned and sat, legs crisscrossed, and stared full at her brother who seemed more than reluctant to continue.

“Please,” she prompted, “I am at a complete loss, and your manner begins to frighten me. Just tell me what you wish me to know.”

“Your noble was not named Jess,” he explained.

“I had deduced as much.”

“And he had not run afoul of his father; he acted on his father's behalf – in his father's name. Your Jess, his true name,” Chester breathed deeply, clasping both of his sister's hands, “is Jameson.”

For a moment, Aylee merely stared at her brother, not comprehending the significance of the name. After a pause, though, she felt her heart beat faster, and a tightness clawed at her throat. The night suddenly pricked cold upon her, her skin erupting in goosebumps. Finally, she pushed herself backwards and struggled to her feet.

Though she had always found herself calm in the most desperate of circumstances, she could not now find any reserves on which to draw. Lord Jameson Wilmington, Earl of Capigan, heir to Lord James, Duke Wilmington of Capigan – and she had accused him of the vilest of abominations. She had provoked him and abused him, she had kissed him and then betrayed him by kissing his servant. Most horrible, and the most likely source of her punishment, she had stabbed him! Of course, Jess the man – even Jess the generic noble – would have offered no real threat to Aylee for her actions. He may have brought charges, but the noble of another village would hold little sway in Bennigton.

The Earl of the entire domain, though? If he had wanted to, he could at any moment have claimed the right of nobles and forced her into marriage, yet he had withheld himself for propriety to almost a painful degree. He now could now prosecute her not only for the wound on his hand, but for publicly humiliating him, as she publicly allowed him to court her but then defiled the connection with a kiss to another. So many nuances by which he could convict her for improper behavior! How could she have known? Suddenly, the strange relationship between Jess and Itchy made so much more sense: Itchy, the solicitous and concerned friend, offering counsel to his younger but higher ranked companion. Almost as highly ranked as possible, and highly ranked enough to have demanded her respect.

Abruptly, so much made sense. His expectation of respect? She understood when she realized that he had always received it without earning it. “I live a sheltered life,” he had claimed. Indeed! A life where everyone deferred to him regardless of his behavior. Still, he had earned respect from her – he was not an entitle sovereign, just a young man whose experience had offered inherent submission. How her cheek must have shocked him! You are definitely a challenge! The words drifted through her mind, and she almost smiled before she remembered that he was gone, removed from her as anything other than a judge. One challenge too many, she lamented.

His identity explained why he had hidden his name so rigorously – the son of James, displaced and wandering the woods with his servant his only companion? What danger he had faced! And yet he took you in and cared for you… The tears had dried up, but with the thought, they wanted to fall again. The grandeur of his uniform, and how amazingly he wore it – the natural sense with which it hung about him. The militia in Glowigham had not been a militia, but Jess’s troops, which explained why she had seen Lando. Itchy’s unfailing loyalty, the product of both childhood affection and fealty to a sovereign. She finally did smile when she considered how Itchy had indulged her with all the patience of an older brother, but had repudiated her with no sense of regret. When she considered that he had held himself away because he intended her for Jess, her smile fell. I have disappointed us all, dear Itchy.

Unsurprisingly, she scoffed, it was her rebellious spirit that condemned her. If another man were to charge her with offense as she suspected Jess would – Jameson – Aylee would have laughed in his face, declaring injustice even in the face of a firing squad. Jameson Wilmington, though – Earl of Capigan and heir to the throne – could point to innumerable real offenses that she had committed against the crown, if ignorantly. She could not help but find a stirring of fear in her stomach at the realization.

All of her fear, however, subjected itself to the very sincere shame that she felt for turning her back on a man like Jess in his time of need. Many…would pay well to know my identity, he had claimed upon their first acquaintance. The son of the duke? The duke who ruled the region? Yes, removed from the protection of walls and troops, such a man would prove incredibly vulnerable – and a valuable target.

Abruptly, she remembered his expression as he had ordered her to dry her tears. The utter bitterness on his face when he turned back before riding away for the final time. Had he suspected her of something far worse than the personal offense she had committed? What damage could a woman manage who toyed so capriciously with the heart of a man in his role? Of course, she had not intended it, but her turbulent reactions, hot and cold. Would he attribute intent to her insecurity? A man in his position would hold every reason to do so. Especially when, with obvious petulance, she had kissed his closest friend and advisor. An emotional blow and a threat to his support…until such a time as I am able to offer your trespasses more attention. The words made so much more sense now.

While Jess had run for his life, he had taken the added burden of a helpless charge who endangered his entire mission, a recalcitrant and ungrateful person who eventually betrayed him. And she had felt so sorry for herself! In truth, his ordeal surpassed even hers in its devastation. A father tricked and poisoned, an inheritance stolen, a home unsafe, the burden of the entire domain on his shoulders; and where Aylee might have offered solace, she offered further injury. Yes, more than her fear of punishment, her sense of righteous anger against herself overwhelmed her. Not because she had kissed Itchy, and certainly not for any imagined political cause Jess could conjure, but because she had added further injury to a good man who had needed her aid. She could not blame herself for misunderstanding his identity, but she blamed herself for not recognizing his suffering.

When she heard the hoofbeats, she at first mistook them for the battering of her heartbeat in her ears. By the time she recognized Bruison beside her, he had surpassed her and cut off her retreat.

“Forgive me, Miss Aylee, in running you down in such a manner. Are you quite well?”

Aylee could not speak, fear and self-loathing robbing her of speech and pouring tears as streams from her eyes.

“Please, Miss Aylee. Are you injured?”

Though she wished to rush past his horse, Aylee managed to shake her head. Bruison slid off of his horse and lifted her elbow to offer her support, but in her current state, the gesture felt more like an arrest. She did not resist, but weakened by her shock, she followed him back to his horse without resistance. At that moment, Chester caught up with the pair.

“I have good news,” Bruison offered him a pleasant smile. “You have finally received a summons from Capigan.”

“You knew?” she questioned Bruison, and for the first time in almost a month, she saw guilt flash across his visage. In the early days, he had worn the look often, having born from the beginning a distaste for his assignment. Though Everett and Raehan Hembry, and even Aylee herself, had alleviated much of his guilt, his face now reflected the sense once again.

“I did.”

“And you can present the news to me as if I stand to gain by it? You who know that I stand accused before James by Jameson himself? I am beside myself.” Suddenly, the tears morphed into sobs, and she gripped her sides to hold herself together.

“Sister,” Chester calmed, “go with Bruison. Whatever you fear, you must know Bruison incapable of any violence against you.”

“And you can consult with your excellent parents,” Bruison agreed. “We do not leave until the morrow. Miss Aylee.” He paused until Aylee forced herself to look up at him. “I know Lord Jameson very well, and he is not a cruel man. Though he is just, he is as likely to extend mercy as judgment, especially in favor of those who have proven character. Everyone errs, Miss Aylee. Lord Jameson – and his father – have shown great understanding for those for whom they stand in judgment.”

Aylee accepted the hand that Bruison offered to mount the horse. “Unless I have offended him so much that he makes an exception for me.”

“Do not malign him again, Aylee,” her brother corrected. “You spent three months expecting too little of him. Now give him the benefit of the doubt and expect more.”

With her brother's words, Aylee calmed herself by effort of will. Whatever she suffered, she deserved, and she would not even blame Jess or accuse him in her mind.

“You are right, Chester. Thank you for everything.”

“I will see you at home,” he corrected with the slightest of smirks.

Aylee almost managed a smile in return.