I stare up at the dark ceiling, my hands behind my head. I haven't even bothered attempting to go to sleep, knowing my thoughts will be otherwise occupied. Her face, her voice; I can't get them out of my mind. I'm being foolish, but it can't be helped. Whatever is happening to me is out of my control.

Getting out of bed, I wash my face at the basin and then don my spare outer tunic and breeches. Both garments are clean, thanks to Swen, but are faded and in need of stitching. I never cared much about my appearance, but now I feel self-conscious, like it reflects the fact that I'm not normal. When I earn my first payment from Jemson, I'll spend some of it on new clothing.

I head downstairs, hearing voices coming from one of the rooms.

“I tell you,” Hermis hisses, “one of them must have taken it. My vote is the stranger in the blue room. He hasn't even told us his name. I don't trust him.”

“This isn't the first time you've misplaced a key,” says Swen calmly. “I'll not have you accosting the guests until you've searched for it properly.”

I hastily reach into my pocket and take out the key to Syndel's room. Stooping down, I set in on one of the steps—an easy find for Hermis—and continue out the door before either the widow or her nephew has a chance to see me.

I arrive at the stable before the sun has risen. Jemson is nowhere in sight, though new bales of hay are stacked at the entrance. Guessing my first task will be to distribute the hay among the horses, I locate a pitchfork and get to work.

To my surprise, none of the horses shy away when I enter their stalls, though they are on their guard, as if not entirely sure what to expect from me. I end with Henrietta.

“You know what I am,” I say to her, “yet I believe you sense I'm different. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

The mare whinnies in response, batting her large eyes. I study her more carefully, looking past her sleek coat. Though she has no visible aura, as with all animals, I sense some kind of soul inside her. Is that why she hasn't judged me too harshly? If only others would give me the same opportunity.

Nearby noises catch my attention. Leaning out of the stall, I see a boy, not much older than eight or nine, hefting a large shovel and a bucket into one of the first stalls. Curious, I leave Henrietta to investigate. I keep my distance as I watch the boy scoop up piles of droppings and dump them into the bucket. I thought Jemson said his previous hand had left.

The boy turns around and, seeing me, lets out a shriek. The shovel thuds to the ground. “Who are you?” he asks, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Cress. I started working here just this morning,” I say, hiding my amusement. I recognize the boy from one of my previous visits; the same boy who tricked his playmates during the chase game. I don't recall his name. “I assumed that would be my job,” I nod at the shovel and bucket. The boy looks down at his tools.

“Jemson lets me take what I want to use as fertilizer,” he says, reclaiming his hold on the oversized shovel. “We give him a portion of our crops as a trade.”

“I see. Well, that's actually a relief. I wasn't looking forward to that particular task. What's your name?”

The boy puffs out his chest to make up for his earlier reaction. “Arem. You've been in town before, haven't you?”

“A few times. I'm staying at Widow Swen's.”

Arem wrinkles his nose. “Her house smells funny.”

I chuckle. “I haven't noticed anything unusual.”

“Just wait till she makes her special stew.”

The bucket is soon full and as Arem carries it to the exit he glances back at me. “If you want, you can come to my house for dinner sometime. My mom's the best cook in Nikom.”

He leaves before I can give a response, though I don't know what I would have said. Pleased to have met the boy, I find other tasks to take care of.

My thoughts often stray to Syndel, wondering what she might be doing. The anticipation of seeing her again runs through my blood. I want to know everything about her, yet I fear she will expect me to reciprocate with answers about my own life. Lying to her fills me with dread. If only she could look at me without judgment or fear the way Henrietta does now. Such a wish is foolishness.

I'm once again in Henrietta's stall brushing her coat when the building is suddenly bathed in golden light. I know at once she's here. I'm torn between excitement and anxiety, both pulling at me from different directions. Is she here to see me? What will we talk about? How will I make it through without acting like a fool?

Steeling myself, I exit the stall and meet her face to face. My tongue is heavy and thick in my mouth, preventing me from speaking. Luckily, she fills the silence.

“Finding you wasn't easy,” she says, giving me one of her hypnotizing smiles. “I overheard Swen and Hermis saying that the mysterious guest from the blue room left without eating breakfast or taking anything for lunch. I assumed she meant you, so I offered to bring you something.” She holds up a small basket. “I thought it would be a good way to show you my thanks for helping me.”

I should be thrilled that she thought of me, but I'm more confused, and a little alarmed. “Did you tell them about my...visit last night?”

She shakes her head. “I had a feeling it would bring up questions and a few concerns. They don't know you were the one who found me, do they?”

I look at the ground. “No.”

“Yet you decided to take a room at Swen's to make sure I was all right?”

I keep my gaze fixed downward, feeling heat crawl up my neck. “I suppose that seems strange.”

“Strange or very considerate.” She sets the basket on a nearby barrel. “Enjoy your lunch.” She turns back to the doorway.

I should let her leave. I've let it go too far as it is, but I find myself saying, “Will you stay to share it with me?”

She blinks as if the invitation was unexpected. “If you wish.”

We find a clean area to sit, using the barrel as a table. Syndel arranges the simple portions of bread, cheese, and fruit. I begin eating my share, casting glances at her like a shy schoolboy.

Her gaze moves to the stalls where many of the occupants watch us from their gates. “I've always loved horses,” she says. “I had one when I was younger. Frost was her name.” Her face falls, causing her aura to flicker at the recollection. “She was old, poor thing.”

Her emotion touches me and I feel the ache of her loss. “I'm sorry,” I say, the words sincere. “I'm not very experienced with horses, but I'm already learning how intelligent they are.”

Syndel nods. “They are unlike any other animal. The bonds they form are lifelong.”

We fall into a pensive silence. A lifelong bond is something I'd like to have, but not with a horse. Yet I'm fooling myself if I believe I could have such a connection with anyone, let alone Syndel. I'm pushing the limits just by being with her now. I should end it, but deep inside I know I cannot.

“Cress, may I ask you something?”

I'm on guard, waiting for a question I can't possibly answer without revealing too much. “Yes.”

She brushes crumbs from her hands, taking her time to continue. “Don't be offended when I say you seem out of place. People have a right to live where they want, but I'm curious. Why are you here?”

I almost want to laugh. Such a question leads to every secret I possess. “To escape something that haunts me.”

Her brow furrows. “Have you succeeded?”

Have I? I shake my head. “It's something I must work at every day, but I hope there will be a time when I can break free completely.”

“And then what will you do?”

The possibilities are endless. I'd have eternity to do anything I desire. Create a new life for myself that might even include a measure of peace and happiness. My eyes fix on her and I suddenly know nothing I do will mean anything unless she is near me. It's a silly notion. I barely know the girl. Yet an ache forms in my chest at the thought of being without her that I struggle to take a breath. “I don't know.”

She reaches out to pluck a few strands of straw from my sleeve. Her sudden nearness makes my entire body become rigid and I must hold back the urge to take her hand in mine. “You are a unique person, Cress,” she says. “I wish you luck.”

Getting to her feet, she begins gathering leftovers. I watch her, not wanting the moment to be over. With everything packed, she gives me a smile. “I'll see you back at Swen's.”

She leaves the stable, waving to me over her shoulder. The moment isn't over. The Noble-lords are not here yet. I will spend as much time with her as possible before I am forced to leave her forever.