The journey to the Hembry home lasted only half a day, and just before lunch, the Duke and his entourage accompanied Everett and Aylee Hembry past the last furlong of the trip. Though she looked forward to her mother's attentions, Aylee could only regret the end of the long walk home. During the major part of the trip, Jameson and Aylee had lagged behind the general group of travelers, conversing and laughing at each other.

“What would you think,” she prompted unexpectedly, “about pausing for a meal on the close end of the meadow? There is a copse of trees less than one hundred feet from where we now stand, and amidst the trees rests a lovely valley.”

“Dear Aylee,” Everett corrected. “It is hard work to move horses and supplies across several leagues of forest. I am certain that these men would prefer a nice chair in which to rest themselves and a man to wash down and feed their horses.”

“However,” continued the Duke, who revealed along the journey that he could refuse Aylee nothing, “there is no reason why you and Jameson cannot take full advantage of the scenery while your father and I lead the rest of our travelers to your house. Your mother expects the entire entourage, so we will provide her with plenty to accomplish once we arrive. She will not miss you for an hour at least.”

Delighted, Aylee glanced up at Jameson for his agreement which he readily gave. Within a few minutes, they had packed a portion of the food they had carried into a small bundle and set out for the clearing among the trees.

“I have something for you,” Jameson offered unexpectedly.

Glancing up from her table setting, Aylee tilted her head curiously. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

Though Aylee pursed her lips in amused irritation, she complied. A moment later, she could feel Jess’s fingers in her hair, and a shiver ran through her. He did not pull her to him, though, and when he leaned back, she opened her eyes. Raising her hand to the back of her head, she felt for what he had placed there. Her fingertips rested on a small metal clasp in the shape of a dragonfly, one of her favorites.

“I lost this that day…” she realized, her heart swelling.

“In the plaza, by the blacksmith. That huge man almost knocked you over, and you barely managed to stay on your feet. I wanted to come aid you, but you glared at me as if to threaten all sorts of violence if I tried.” A smile split his face at the memory. “As you walked away, I realized that the loose tresses had fallen into your face – the effect was…astonishing.” He ceased speaking, seeming to relive the moment, and the look on his face sent another chill over Aylee’s skin. “Anyway, I knew that something must have happened to unloose your hair. That’s when I found it.”

“This was the ‘secret’ you kept from Itchy…”

“It was.”

“I tried to use it to convince him that you were hiding something. Of course, being a zealot, he would hear none of it. I had seen the guilty glances you threw at Itchy when you took it out of your pocket.”

“He was convinced I had acted untoward with you, hinted at intentions that I did not yet hold the power to follow through on.”

Her lips raised at the corners. “Well, for once, you can tell Itchy he was wrong. But you kept it all this time? Even when you thought me a traitor?”

Jess’s face fell. “When I thought you innocent, it was a symbol of hope for me. When I believed you guilty, it was an icon of mourning.”

She reached up and caressed the worry line on his forehead, as she had that day in the meadow.

“I would take it out and stare at it, consider how I could persuade you to trust me. Then, how I could have been such a fool.” The words were sad, but his face wore a sentimental pleasure. “And now, I give it back to you.”

“You do not wish to keep it?” she wondered.

“I only kept it as a connection to you, but now we shall remain forever connected. When you wear it in your hair, it will remind me of how tirelessly I pursued the treasure, and how gratified I have been to gain it.”

With the admission, Aylee took his hand, and they lapsed into silence. Finally, Jameson sighed and raised her fingers to his lips. “So, this is where you have lived your entire life?” he prompted. His eyes wandered to the forest floor, where the sunlight sketched dark lines using the shadowed trees. Within the clearing, violet and yellow flowers grew in clusters among the tall grass.

“Apart from my travels with my father, yes. This field now reminds me of the one from your story, where you and Itchy ran with hounds behind the castle.”

“It is very similar, though this one is more accessible. You have had few restrictions on your freedom here, no doubt used to following your whim to new adventures. Did you travel far with your father?”

“Whenever my mother did not have a new baby. With each new addition, mother's life grew more complicated, and she needed me for at least a six-month, if not twice that amount.”

“Then you will have found,” Jameson peered questioningly at the clouds above him in the far horizon, “a way to entertain yourself while confined by circumstance.”

“Jess, what is this about?” She laid a blanket onto a shorter patch of grass and set down the bundle she took from Jameson.

“When you marry me,” he asserted pensively, “I fear you will reckon yourself trapped within the walls of Capigan. An open town like Bennigton – I can never live there no matter the inducements for you or for me. I am accustomed to living within walls; you have lived freely, run among the fields, ridden among the forests. How can I resolve this without conceiving that I have locked you in a prison for your own protection?”

Aylee tilted her head in contemplation. “You are right in thinking that I am unused to restrictions – yet, no refuge is without a price. Let me think on it a minute.”

Rather than focus on the question, Aylee grabbed a slab of sharp cheese, sliced it into several slices, divided the bread between herself and Jameson, then pulled out a rustic bottle of red wine. She considered the question as she bit into the small sandwich she had made.

“I believe,” she began slowly, still considering possibilities as she spoke. “Well, first of all, let me promise you that I will not venture outside the walls without your soldiers until we find and examine the case of Malchus Lorne.”

“That could take years...”

“Of that I am aware, and it is possible that if I have children by that time, I will not wish to leave the walls ever. From what I have seen of my mother, a woman's children are often more precious to her than freedom. Once Malchus is imprisoned,” Aylee had set upon an idea, “you will undertake to train me in the ways of defense.” The brilliant grin that bloomed instantly on his face halted her in her speech. “What?” she demanded.

“Training you was quite fun…I think you could motivate me to the exercise.”

Aylee peered at him archly from beneath her lashes, and her mouth twisted in amusement. “That is good,” she hummed. “Then I will not have to apply to Itchy for the task.”

“Itchy?” he growled, and to her utter shock, he lunged toward her, pouncing like a cat and bringing her to lie under him, her arms pinned. “If you continue to tease me thus,” he leveled, his face a breath from hers, “then I will send Itchy on a mission over the sea at my behest. He will not refuse, because he worships me.”

Breathless, Aylee burst out in laughter. Yanking her arms from under his, she placed them on either side of his face. “You will not.” She pulled his face down to place a quick kiss on his dimple. “But I will stop, I imagine, because I imagine that teasing you like this will not be effective for very long. Besides, as he told you, I am yours.”

“He told you about that conversation?” Would those two never stop tormenting him? Before he could protest, Aylee tugged his face down for another kiss, and he soon lost all irritation in the feel of her beneath him, and the heat of his mouth on hers.

Finally, she raised her hand and stopped his lips before they could find her again. “Seeing as we are not yet married,” she announced, “I suggest that we defer this until we can continue more properly.”

He raised a hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb across the delicate skin at the edge of her lips. “I guess we must,” he agreed, placing his hands on the ground beside her and gently shifting to the side so she could turn to look at him.

“It will be fun,” she returned his earlier grin, and he lay back to cool himself by staring up at the lone star that had begun to tap on sundown’s door. “Back to the topic at hand,” Aylee lay down and perused the same star. “Once you feel me well educated…” She noted his smile from the corner of her eye. “I will follow a certain course on any excursion that I undertake. I will take a guard with me. I will never leave by the same route twice. I will change the time of day so that no one can predict my jaunts from the security of the walls. I will disguise myself so that no one will recognize me. With all of these precautions, surely I can survive a few years of captivity until my wayward spirit finally settles into complacency.”

Jess leaned up on his elbow to pierce her with the most desperate gaze. “I will get you a fireshot. Still, to watch you ride away, even for just a few hours, would paralyze me, I fear. It's terrible to be a man who fears nothing, but then to find a weakness any enemy could exploit!”

“So, you will just hide me away and keep me for yourself?” She mirrored his posture. “That is not who you are, Jess. Understand that for years, I have born the responsibility for protecting my family when my father traveled. I promise; I will take no undue risk, but you need no more fear for me than you do for your father.”

“But he is just a father, dear Aylee, important as that may be,” he insisted, gripping her hand and placing a kiss on her fingers. “You are my inspiration. I fear that if you perish, so will my ambition.”

“Jess, I will take no unnecessary risk, as I told you. I can be quite happy going about my daily life without too many adventures. You need not worry that I will wander wantonly away from you. Right now, I can't imagine ever wanting to leave your side.” Aylee smiled at Jameson, but only for a second as the sun moved to the top of the treeline above his head. “It's late,” she realized suddenly, raising to a sitting position. “My mother will be looking for us.”

“Then we must go,” Jameson agreed, and he stood and pulled her to her feet.

After packing all of their belongings, Aylee and Jameson embarked on the short walk that led to the Hembry home. Aylee felt her stomach hollow as she realized that she would never again walk back to her home at the end of a day to release her burdens at the feet of family. Instead, she would find herself forced to create her own refuge, though Jess's presence would offer her a ready medium to build upon.

She could not but regret the loss of the violet delphinia that clustered along the road toward her house, or the familiar shadows of the nearby homes, or the hidden nooks in the buildings behind her home. They called out to her now, drawing her toward them, but the hand she held possessed a stronger pull. Though she would miss them, she would not feel incomplete without them as she would without the man by her side. Without overture, Aylee reached up to place a gentle kiss on Jess's cheek. “I love you,” she whispered, and Jameson turned to her with a smile of utmost pleasure.

“And I, you.” He grabbed her with both arms and lifted her into a warm hug.

From mere yards away, Malchus watched the performance with eyes of bitter hatred. He had fallen from the pinnacle of honor to the abyss of infamy, and the two people responsible now stood almost within arm's reach. For days, he had slept in his father's storehouse, forced to hide in shame from those he had always before disdained, and carrying around a spiked club in case of retaliation for his misdeeds. He would never recover any semblance of influence, not while a Wilmington remained in power. True, if he carried out the action he now considered, Malchus would need to disappear for many years at least. Those years, though, would bear with them the satisfaction that he had at last made his enemies pay for their interference in his life.

He calculated as Aylee and her noble neared the convergence of the edge of the forest and the building behind which Malchus stood. Malchus knew his weapon's limitations, but he knew his own strength and could use the fluster of the unexpected to inflict a significant injury to the man before either of the pair recognized the imminent threat. As the couple neared the shed behind the Hembry home, Malchus edged cautiously along the wall until he stood less than ten feet from the pair. They had once again stopped to share some secret, a pattern of behavior that would have set Malchus upon them even if he had not already determined to attack them.

Before he had embarked on his mission for the calamitous Maximus, Malchus had merely played at ambition: finessed an old woman out of her ration of grain, charmed a mother into giving up her child's inheritance, seduced a maid into behavior that would gratify him at her expense. Aylee had erased everything valuable about his former self, and for such an offense, he hated her. Of course, Malchus had grown beyond his small-time chicanery once he had gained command of an entire military force. From that point on, Malchus had perceived himself as having arrived, beholden to no one as long as he produced results, which he had done for the once-high counselor until the man's demise.

During the entirety of his success, however, Malchus could not forget his one failure, a failure which transformed into two failures when he failed to apprehend “the noble.” Such a “noble” Malchus could never have found, for he searched not for a noble, but for the ostensible prince himself of the region. Now that “prince” stood in utter vulnerability only feet in front of where Malchus himself stood. Malchus considered the best plan, whom to attack, how to attack, when to attack. The moment stood before him, on haunches poised to launch as soon as Malchus made his decision.

Aylee offered the easier target, but Malchus knew instinctively that he had to take out his strongest competitor first. As Aylee and Jameson passed by the edge of the house, Malchus counted to ten, waiting for the certainty that he could accurately hit his target. Noiselessly, he rushed from his hiding place, club raised, and brought the sturdy wood crashing down with his weight upon the leg of Jameson Wilmington.

At first, Aylee could not process what had occurred, but the snapping sound of Jess's bone awoke her from total bewilderment. She peered madly about her, searching for something to attack with, though she had not yet recognized her attacker. Trying to see through the pain, Jameson glared around him to assess how to escape the danger. As his eyes cleared, he recognized the form of Malchus Lorne where it bore down upon Aylee. Jameson could not rise, but scuttled across the ground in an attempt to reach his enemy.

“Run, Aylee!” he commanded. “Run get help! Get out of here!”

To his surprise, Aylee obeyed, and before Malchus could react, Aylee had fled around the corner of the barn, bellowing for her father and the Duke. She would not wait for help, however, despite what Jameson might think. If she judged correctly, Jameson would die before she could stir up assistance. As she ran into the barn, she began kicking at the dirt, searching for the weapon she had stashed there months before. After what seemed like forever, her kick produced a cold metallic clang, and she remembered how she had stashed the fireshot under the mound of hay.

Grabbing the weapon, she whipped back around the corner in time to see Malchus stalk back from his intended pursuit of her to Jameson's prone form. Jameson scurried backwards, but he would not, by the motion, escape another bashing. From a few yards away, Aylee could not know for sure that she would hit only Malchus, so she hustled forward until she saw Malchus rear up with his club, intent on clobbering Jameson – probably in the head. The back of her enemy spread broad and clear directly in front of her. Raising the fireshot, she let fly the rain of metal upon the back of the man who wanted to kill her and had tried to kill Jameson.

Malchus and his weapon sagged as the massive man staggered forward onto his knees. With the type of ammunition in the gun, Aylee had not killed Malchus, but he would no doubt lose significant blood if he did not seek immediate aid. The stubborn man, though, twisted back toward Aylee. Since she had not brought more powder, she could not fire again, so she raised the gun, hoping that in his weakened state, she could hit him hard enough to incapacitate him. Unexpectedly, Malchus dropped to the ground, and after an instant of shock, Aylee realized that Jameson had grabbed their enemy from behind and now held him by the neck. Jameson would not kill him with such a hold, but no doubt Malchus would struggle for every breath. Finally, Malchus went limp, and Jameson released the man's body onto the ground. Aylee watched with mixed relief and sadness as she saw the rise and fall of his back with each breath he took. Before she could tend to Jameson, she would need to bind Malchus so he could not rise.

Just as she headed toward the shed to find rope, her father rounded the corner, flanked by several soldiers and the Duke, who trailed behind. He rushed to her, hovering like a hummingbird as he tried to assess her condition.

“I am completely whole father, but Jameson is badly injured. He will need tending at once.”

The bevy of soldiers sprinted to Jameson, who lay panting from the pain where he rested among the tall stalks of grass. Once they realized that the blood was not his own, the soldiers calmed and began to tend him with more deliberation. Within a few minutes, they had made a small litter upon which they carried Jameson into the Hembry house.

“I guess someone should tend to Malchus, too. I shot him, but not close enough to kill him.”

With a gasp, Everett Hembry stared at his eldest daughter. Though he had taught her well and had watched her speak with boldness on the topic, he had never actually believed her capable of shooting another human being.

“Dear father,” she inquired when he had told her his thoughts, “do you think that the gentle Raehan Hembry could shoot a man if he attacked the ones she loved?”

Everett huffed a shocked chuckle as he realized that Raehan Hembry would not hesitate to shoot someone under such conditions. After he hugged Aylee, he instructed the men where to take Jameson and suggested that they appeal to Chester for assistance.

Once Chester set Jameson's leg, the family and their guests finally settled in for an unexpected night's stay. Exhausted, Jameson drifted immediately to sleep, and Chester entered the room every half hour to monitor the patient's temperature. If it seemed a tad higher than he thought it should, Chester would have his mother prepare a tea, brewed with special herbs and certain astringents, and Aylee would feed it to Jameson as Chester instructed her. Between the Hembry's sizable home and a cozy guesthouse, they had just enough room to house the Duke and his soldiers, so the entire group settled in to wait out Jameson's convalescence.

Finally, on the third day, Jameson leaned up on his elbow and asked for food. His leg would require months to mend entirely, though quicker and more completely with Chester's care, but with his improved state, Aylee knew that the party would need to carry out their intended task. With a ruler away from court, too many possibilities held potential for mischief. She grew more silent than usual as she considered how her life would change once she had formally announced the news to her mother. Though Aylee had considered all of the beauty and fulfillment she would experience with Jameson, she had not until that moment recognized that she would leave all of the beauty and fulfillment of her past behind her.

Her heart pooled warm inside of her, rendering her weak and melancholy. As if she could sense the disturbance, Raehan Hembry appeared in Aylee's room, compassion written softly across the veil of her eyes. “It is quite normal,” she counseled, answering an unasked question. “When I left my own mother, though my home had not sheltered me from much harm, I cried for a week. Of course, I adored your father, but the strings of home tug stubbornly on the soul, and to loose them requires much time and deep joy. You will miss us, but you will find our absence less punishing as you and Jameson share the struggles and resolutions of life. Those knit a strong bond and will fill in the portrait of your new world, pressing your past to the outline of the frame, not the content of the depiction.”

Rather than answer, Aylee buried her face in her mother's skirts as she had done as a child, weeping for several minutes before she regained self-control.

“Jameson will think that I am sad,” Aylee sniffled.

“Jameson is a good, wise man, and he will understand the division of the heart.”

“Mother,” Aylee raised her head defiantly, though she sniffled still. “You will never be pushed to the outskirts of my life, neither will father or Agnes or the boys.”

“Perhaps not,” she allowed. “Perhaps a pleasant upbringing will pull the family closer to the foreground.”

“It has, mother. You will remain so central to me that I will model myself after you when I consider by what principles to determine my course.”

“You are kind, my dear, and I doubt I deserve such veneration, but I certainly understand. I adore you, too, and think it impossible that you will ever cease to be my Aylee just because you are Jameson's wife.”

Having awakened only a moment before, Jameson stumbled along the hallway in search of a diversion. He had lain too long within his bed, and he determined to rise with or without help. Still, he knew enough to lean against every support he encountered, and he moved more slowly than perhaps he needed to.

“Jess!” Aylee exclaimed as soon as she saw him. She abandoned her mother's side as she flew to her intended. “Why are you out of bed?”

“Chester cleared me for gentle and limited walking as of last night. When I awoke, I decided the time had come to test his recommendation.”

“'Jess,' is it?” Raehan Hembry commented. “I assumed that 'Jameson' would return once you left behind your mission.”

“It is an allowance that Aylee and I agreed upon. For Aylee alone,” he grinned at his fiancée, “I am Jess. For everyone else, Jameson is the rule.”

“A nice concession,” Raehan allowed. “I will be sure not to call you by it, then. You, however, are free to call me Raehan if you wish.” With those words, she rose and stepped over to the pair. “Thank you, kind Jameson, for considering me when announcing your proposal to my daughter. It is true that to hear of it second hand would have saddened me, and now I am able to see her before she leaves our home's membership forever.”

“If you and she wish to visit more before the day, I have a renewed sense of security in her staying here with you. Before, I had worried that Malchus would find a way to seek his revenge if she stayed here without me. Of course, in light of recent events, I think it good idea to hand you a fireshot for security.”

Wrinkling her nose, Aylee grinned at Jess’s obvious pride in the words.

“Well,” Raehan smiled, “I’m sure Aylee would rather spend time with you, but I agree she could come and visit. I doubt Malchus will bother anyone for quite some time.” Her glance darted to Aylee who rolled her eyes at the attention, still Aylee inwardly chuckled at the idea of her mother's having an ungenerous thought.

“He will certainly cause fewer issues than before once he recovers,” Aylee nodded.

Jameson stood straight, lifting himself tall by a nearby ledge. “Let me assure you,” he insisted with just a hint of the imperious, “that if he recovers, he will find himself in forced labor to pay for his crimes. In a less civilized society, he would stand before a firing squad for attempted murder. As it is, he will find himself frequently visited by a monitor from me, one who will assess his condition and determine the potential danger he poses.”

At the words, Aylee and Raehan grew sober, recognizing the validity and justice in Jameson's declarations. If Malchus ever recovered enough to engage in any significant activity, he most likely would return to his self-serving villainy.

“Well,” Raehan interrupted the somber mood that had overtaken the room, “we will focus on the fact that we will be as safe as possible, and you two will find great joy together within an environment of peace.”

“Well spoken,” Jameson smiled. “Perhaps you will offer a toast for us at the wedding.”

“I would consider it an extreme honor,” Raehan bowed her head slightly in respect. “Now, to find a crutch for you. Chester said they will move you back to the palace tomorrow, but you need not hobble against the walls until then.”

When they had made their way into the family room, they found Everett and the Duke in conference. The room grew hushed when everyone saw Jameson standing on his feet. After a beat of silence, the Duke leapt to his feet and rushed over to his son.

“It is good to see you up and feeling well,” he gushed, gripping Jameson's arm firmly.

“We were making arrangements for the removal to the palace tomorrow,” Everett informed the room. “All is ready, and I see minimal delay in the proceedings on the morn…”

As the sun rose the next morning, Aylee pulled her dress over her head and began lacing up her shoes. The time had come.

A few seconds later, Aylee peered around her at the familiar main room of her home, her heart swelling with the significance of the moment. Each member of her family held a string latched firmly into her heart, and the thought of stretching the threads thin by expanding the distance between herself and her loved ones felt a close approximation to pain. Tiny Agnes sat comfortably on Chapman's knee, and Chester had snagged the hand of little Chalmers to restrain him from dashing about the room. Raehan had moved to stand next to her husband, and Aylee held her eyes for the longest time on her mother. While Aylee would miss her parents most of all, she drew strength from the joy on her mother's face.

Once, Raehan Hembry had stood in Aylee's shoes, gazing at her own mother's face with painful longing, but Raehan had turned and walked out her door arm in arm with Everett Hembry. By leaving the comfort of the familiar, she had risked much, but she had gained even more. Raehan inspired Aylee to courage, and though the moments passed with some tears, Aylee stood secure in her actions when she began the trek along the path of the rising sun.

After placing a kiss on the cheek of the housekeeper and the stable boy, she made the rounds of her family, embracing each and offering them many kisses and endearments. She lifted Agnes in her arms and carried her around while addressing each of the others. She ruffled the little blond mop of hair that sat atop Chalmers's head, admonished Chapman to avoid paying too much attention to the neighborhood girls, and wrapped Chester into a bone crushing, one-armed hug. Handing Agnes to Chapman, she turned to face her parents. The tears and affection that flowed between the three would move Aylee for years to come.

Decades later, after Itchy had married and joined his own children to the blessed community in the castle, after Jess had enacted the laws ensuring self-governance for the villages under his care, after Raehan and Everett and the lymer had passed on and Jess would regale both his and Itchy’s grandchildren with great comical retellings of the brilliance and humor and goodness of the most important people in their lives; after all of that, Aylee Hembry Wilmington would sit before the portrait of a maiden hero standing in a wood, staring into the future, and she would remember her life with the utmost complacency.

As she placed her hand in Jameson's and walked out the door of her childhood home, a lightheaded elation filled her chest, and she turned to offer Jess a kiss.

“You will not regret them overmuch?” he murmured as their lips parted.

“I do not leave them forever,” she pronounced softly. “They will lie only a few comfortable hours’ journey from our home by carriage, and less by horse.”

“But things will change.”

Aylee peered up into the eyes of her beloved. “It is a change I want,” she assured him, her lips curving into an intimate smile.

When she had mounted her horse and he his, the pair began the journey to their new home. Aylee Hembry left behind her a sanctuary filled with much love and joy, but she determined that, like Raehan Hembry before her, she would construct her own shelter and a refuge from the storms of life. With a man like Jameson to aid her, she felt full confidence in her success.