We pass many halls of varying paintings, with each having its own designated design. One had murals of the desert, a few paintings of what seemed to be cute little rats that had huge ears poked up from a hole in the ground. Another was a forest, with vast trees and deer and rabbits scurrying here and there beneath swaying canopies. A magnificent stag with upwards of twelve points caught my eye. The intelligent grey eyes seemed to peer deep into my soul, capturing me in the grace and beauty of the magnificent creature. I have to race to catch up to Mr. and Mrs. Hans as my eyes take in the beauty of each individual room.

We reach a room that is slightly long and hall-like where the Lady of the House slows down and turns to watch me. Her behavior is confusing before I turn to see the room. The dark blue carpet and silvery accents are set beneath a dark sky-like ceiling painted with stars. The windows are shaded to bring essence to a dark night. Lanterns flicker in their sconces.

I turn to the first painting and my jaw drops. “What is this?” I whisper.

I let my finger graze gingerly along the dark mahogany frame. Staring back is a dark cloaked figure atop a red-eyed beast. The Timber Wolf glows white in the full moonlight, and a spider-webbed crack in the earth comes from beneath her paws.

The figure on her back wields two forearm length daggers glowing a deadly silver.

I draw one from my bodice, comparing it to the painting. It’s not exact, but someone had to pay extremely close attention to detail in order to paint this.

“Do you like it?” the lady asks from beside me.

I tuck the dagger back in, afraid she might be threatened by the blade.

“It’s... beautiful in a morose kind of way.”

“Much as you see yourself, huh?” she says with a teasing glint in her eyes, even as she serenely folds her hands in front of her.

“What is all this?” I look around to find more paintings, one of me battling six men that look like giants, another of me holding a small girl as she weeps into my shoulder with Ran looking on with her kind brown eyes from behind me. My favorite is the one of me kissing Ran’s forehead as she closed her eyes and leaned into my embrace. The intimacy of the painting causes my throat to swell.

I remember well that moment. It was just after an arrow grazed my neck. I run my finger along the puckered scar just above my collarbone. Ran took the next arrow in the shoulder that would have struck my heart. I took down the bowman before he could loose another arrow, then dropped the kiss on Ran’s forehead. My heart was too grateful to her for words. What you can’t spot in the painting are the tears running over my mask.

I look closer, and sure enough I spot the red flecked arrow in her shoulder. I smile in remembrance of that night, when I truly started to believe she was my best friend whom nothing could tear from me.

“Someone has been following your reign of heroism. You are an angel in the eyes of the innocent and a devil to those who wish harm to others.”

"Even if some of us didn't believe you more than a fancy." Sir Hans makes a faux affronted glower of his brows when his wife smacks his shoulder.

I have no words. My heart pounds as if I’m going into battle. “Why?” I whisper.

“Perhaps because you have many who would like to thank you.” Sir Hans says. He hugs his wife from behind, and she leans into him with tears shimmering in her eyes.

I glance around, but we are alone. A brush of fresh air hits my face as I untie my mask. Conscious of the fact we may have someone walk in at anytime, I back into a shaded corner.

“What happened?” I ask the lady gently.

She looks at me with surprise. “You’re beautiful,” she whispers, as if expecting something different.

My cheeks heat. That is a great compliment coming from one as magnificent as her. That she expected me to be ugly, uhmm... I’m not sure how to take that. But... I've never been called beautiful before, and I sure as heck wouldn't call myself beautiful now, after logging in an all nighter around the city. I'm not sure what she sees in me. Even on my best days, I'm quite plain with no features to stand out as beautiful nor ugly.

I shift uncomfortably. "Why build all... this?" I gesture at the surrounding room cloaked in night and shimmering with shades of silver and red as highlights.

She blinks and one tear makes a track down her face. “You saved my mother. She was in Lower, serving with the Guild of Grayce. The criminals—" she spits the word like a curse "—ambushed her. They would have murdered her, even delighted in explaining how they would accomplish such a thing.” She swipes the tear and Sir Hans gives her a squeeze from behind. “But you were there. She came home a crying mess to speak of the angel who wielded two swords with the experience of a grandmaster. She told of the one who rode the white wolf of death. To my chagrin, I nary believed a word. Yet, more stories circulated until I believed her tale. My mother painted what she remembered. Later, she spoke with others you have saved and painted the others.”

I can only shake my head as emotions roll by my heart too quickly for me to comprehend. Gladness, joy, relief, peace, all bundle together as I know I truly am helping. Overwhelming it all is a sort of numb excitement that all is well and I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I turn away from Sir Hans and the lady. “You both don't understand what you have given me. I... I don't have words.”

The lady comes over and wraps her arms around me. “It is you who does not understand what you have done, nor whom you have helped.” She steps back quickly, leaving her hands on my shoulders. “You are skin and bone. When did you last eat?”

I sway on my feet, as if my mind is finally realizing all it has been through. “Last night.”

“What did you eat?”

I shake my head to clear it of a slight ringing sound. “A bit of broth.”

“William Jacob Hans.” Oooh. The full name treatment. I’m glad the threat in that voice isn’t aimed at me. “Did you know of this?”

“If I did, I would’ve followed her home the day we met.”

“You respected my privacy. That's part of how you gained my trust.”

“Trust and honor go hand in hand, Guardian. Had I known you were starving as you fought tooth and nail for innocents...” he shakes his head, aghast. "Why did you not seek help? I would've been glad to assist you. Any number of people would have assisted you, had you but asked."

Stubborn pride, Ran whispers in my mind, but I don't want to acknowledge the truth of her words. It's not like she's a saint, either.

After such a thought, she'd typically send me a snappy remark back, but... she doesn't. That sends a rush of adrenaline tingling down my hands and legs. I straighten up, pulling back my shoulders.

Ran almost seems distracted over the bond when I probe it, and the next second cuts me off. I can't quite not feel her, but I can't get a bead on her, either. I'm tempted to chase off after the last place I felt her, but there comes a moment when my body decides enough is enough and the adrenaline stops flowing. My shoulders sag in exhaustion and Lady Hans is there to support me.

"Will," the lady says, a command in her voice.

Hans puts my hand on his arm and guides me up a few flights of stairs. I keep my eyes on my toes, concerned with how hard I have to focus in order to keep myself from tripping.

Hans sits me on a couch beside a large canopied bed, and I run my hand through the frazzled hair escaping from beneath my hood. The braid is mostly undone.

“Will, send for Annabelle and a large bowl of whatever soup is on hand,” Lady Hans says, bustling around the room.

“Is there a chance...?” They both turn to me, but I have to think of how to phrase this. “Will someone walk in?”

Sir Hans heads for the door. He gives the lady a kiss on her hand, then walks out. She locks it behind him. “Does that help?”

I nod. “Thank you.”

I rub my ribs that are still sore from the crazy giant Timber Wolf killer.

I look to find the lady watching me. "Oh, and I'm Aria Dragonchild, by the way.”

The lady comes over and grips my forearm in her own gentle grasp before kissing both my cheeks in the manner of a noble to a noble. “Jenny Hans. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, dear.”

She grabs a small apple from the bedside table. “I sometimes get the munchies at night. Snack on this while we wait.” Munchies? I've never heard a noble say such an undignified word. Who is this lady and what happened to all beautiful nobles being haughty and impervious to other's pain?

The apple in my face distracts me from her words and my own revelations.

I bring the crisp fruit to my nose. It smells lovely. I bite into the red skin. A groan of pure ecstasy comes from me as the tart and sweet juices burst on my tongue.

“It’s as if you’ve never had an apple before!” she exclaims.

“It's been a while, my lady.” I take another bite. Already the apple is soothing my aching stomach.

“No more of that now. Call me Jenny.”

I pull my nose out of the apple just long enough to say, “Yes, my l... Jenny.”

She pulls over a chair, content in the silence. Well, mostly silence. I crunch the apple with all the ladylikeness of Ran. Speaking of, I need to check in with her. Her silence is scaring me.

I close my eyes and reach for the warmth in my chest. How are you, Beauty?

You’ve gotta be kidding me. Now you check on me? That’s about as close to growling as she ever comes. At least with me.

What happened? I barely hold back my humor at her annoyance.

I was chased by hounds. Big, ugly, braying brutes.

You can take on a few hounds, right?

Not when they’re sent by the murderer. With the last word, she sends an image of the man in the library. Darshius.

Panic courses through my heart. Are you alright? Why didn't you say something? Why did you cut me off? The last I say with some hurt leaking through the bond.

Easy trigger, I’m fine. I led them through the woods in a merry chase, but lost them by Old River. I knew you would've followed me, and you would've only been a burden.

I blow out a relieved and slightly disgruntled breath, forgetting where I am.

“Everything ok?” I open my eyes to see Lady Hans watching me with concern.

I give her a tight smile. "It is now, my lady."

The lock clicks and opens before she has the chance to open her mouth again.

I dart under the bed. What? Don't judge. It was the closest hiding spot and old habits die hard.

“Wait here, Miss Anna,” Sir Hans says to someone outside the door as he brings a small table into the room.

I peek out from under the skirt, thankful for soft, cushiony, and expensive rugs that make this much easier than sneaking about the dirty and dank city. Hiding in a tavern sounds like a good idea, right? Trust me... just don't.

Hans sets down the table in the middle of the room before turning back to the door. He hauls in three chairs that have red cushions tied to the wood to sit next to the table. With a nod to his wife, he returns with a tray that contains the mouth-watering aroma of meat and vegetables with freshly baked croissants. Sides of butter and milk grace the tray.

“Aria, Anna is a trustworthy girl who I have entrusted with many secrets. Would you allow her to be privy to your secret?” Lady Hans moves to the table to arrange a fresh flower vase as center piece then sets out three bowls of the soup, without ever so much as glancing under the bed. She closes the door, and looks pointedly under the bed.

My cheeks heat as I climb out from under the bed, and Sir Hans raises an eyebrow.

I’m thankful for the space she gives as she bustles around the table, not really looking at me nor addressing my... habits. “May I think on it?”

“Of course! Until then, come. Eat as much as that stomach of yours can handle. Have seconds or thirds or fourths. My cook seems to believe my husband and I eat more than a battalion.” She pats a chair, then sits in the one beside it when Sir Hans holds out for her. The love in her eyes reminds me of the look Momma used to give Father.

I walk over and hide the emotion bubbling behind my eyes by looking down at the feast.

“This looks fabulous,” I say politely, if a little wobbly. I have never dined with such finery... I'm almost afraid to touch the fine pottery for fear of staining it with the blood on my hands.

Sir Hans pulls out my chair, and I look at him in wide-eyed surprise.

“Guardian, you are also a lady, despite what you see as a less than noble upbringing. Blood is the least of what makes a person noble.”

I nod my thanks and run that around in my head. It’s not blood that makes a noble. Interesting theory. I doubt that belief holds with the rest of the peacocks in court, though.

Perhaps, dear rider, your encounters with nobles did not encompass the whole, and perhaps if you got to know them, you'd find they aren't all the blockheads you think.

She must be feeling better.

Jenny passes me a small bowl of water to wash my hands in, and I duck my head in gratitude while I scrub.

“We ask a Gifting before the meal, Guardian.” Sir Hans reaches out to grasp Jenny’s hand.

Again I smother the emotion the sight evokes. I nod and close my eyes, wiping my hand on the towel provided with the bowl.

The blessing is short and sweet. He gives thanks for both the food and for bringing me here.

“Evermore and Always,” I finish with Sir and Lady Hans.

I push back my hood, something I should have done before then, but hey, I’m not exactly thinking straight. Hopefully a full stomach will help.

I look up to find both of them watching me like hawks. “What?” I ask self-consciously.

“You have blood on you,” Jenny says, a slight tremor in her voice.

“Is any of it yours?” Sir Hans asks, his deep voice telling me I better tell the whole truth.

I look down shyly, grabbing a silver spoon and trying to see my reflection and clean the blood from my face through it. “I helped Healer Jens with Robin. It was not pretty, but he says she should pull through just fine.”

Jenny stands and kneels beside me, taking the cloth from my hands and dabbing it in the water before bringing it to my face. I hold as still as possible as she cleans my face with the damp cloth, staining it a dark crimson.

“Good. I was afraid you had hurt yourself again.” I almost chuckle at the wry tone in Hans' voice, but hold it in as Jenny cleans off one last stubborn spot on my cheek.

She finishes and sits back down, a slight smile tipping her lips.

“In my line of... activities, it’s a bit common,” I say, ducking my head again as Jenny serves me from a silver ladle into the polished pottery before us.

“Dig in, dear. May I ask what got you started helping people?” Jenny takes a dainty bite of soup.

I push a spoonful in my mouth and chew silently for a moment to get my mind under control. “It started just here and there." She leans closer to hear me and I realize I'm speaking low and almost in a whisper. I attempt to raise my voice, despite the nerves in my veins. "Ran would hear a scream and take off before I could get the chance to tell her no. It came to the point where I would expect her to shoot out from under me at anytime.” I pause. “There were a few times she’d knock me off her back to get there quicker.” I chuckle at the wide-eyed glance of Hans, while Jenny just darts her eyes to me with an emotion I can't define in the depths. “Don’t worry, I was never hurt too badly. Ran looks after me like a momma hen. I wouldn’t doubt she knocked me off so I wouldn’t get hurt.” Mmm. Interesting theory. I’ll have to ask her later.

Jenny leans forward, her attention fully on me. “Ran began your activities, as you call them?”

“I suppose so. But it got to where I knew I was helping, and I couldn't leave the people to some fates worse than death.” I shiver at the memory of leering eyes and wondering hands. I stick more soup in my mouth and swallow before continuing. “We started patrolling often, coming to the city at night.”

They give me a moment of silence to chew, although I know they are bursting with questions.

Sir Hans opens his mouth but closes it again, rubbing a hand down his beard. I nod at him to spit it out. “Are you a mage?”

I choke on the soup. “Am I what?"