Despite her anxiety, Miriam was eager to see her father again. Though they had exchanged letters, correspondence was slow due to the increasing castle security. She had little idea of how her father fared, since he disliked elaborating on his illness in the letters. As she entered the drawing room, she saw her father was talking to Lady Lucia, little Isabel bouncing on his knee.

“Miriam!” Isaac of Rae eased the little girl onto her mother’s lap and stood up.

“Papa!” She rushed to her father’s open arms. Not only was Isaac’s color much improved, his movements were less frail than when she left him. She hugged her father close.

Finally relinquishing his daughter, Isaac took her face in his hands and examined it carefully. She had matured during these past few months, but her eyes were troubled, and she seemed sad. The easy smile that usually graced her mouth was gone, replaced by tension.

“Miriam?” he asked, concerned. “Is everything alright?”

Without preamble, she asked, “Why have you come here, Papa? I told you in the last letter that I am doing well. You need not worry about me.”

Frowning in confusion, Isaac drew out a letter from his coat pocket. “Did you not send this, requesting my presence?”

Miriam saw her seal, then opened the letter. The content chilled her heart. Though the writing looked to be hers, she did not write it. The letter asked her father to join her at Pelicana and told accurately of what she had been doing. Unnerved, Miriam cleared her throat and handed the paper to her father.

“Why, yes,” she said, her voice unnaturally high. “Yes, I now remember. I must have written it during one of those nights when I couldn’t sleep.” Aware that everyone in the room was looking at her strangely, Miriam forced a smile. She led him back to the sofa he was sitting on before her arrival. “Tell me, Papa. How was your journey?”

Isaac eyed her dubiously, but did not pursue the question on his mind. “It is rather tiresome for an old man like me to be traveling.” Miriam, laughing, clasped his arm and assured him he wasn’t old. “Your Uncle Collin would have insisted in coming along. You know how he is. I assured him, however, that it is enough for Ethan to accompany me.”

Her eyes shining, Miriam asked, “Ethan’s here? Right now?”

Amused, her father pointed to the door, where the handsome young man was waiting patiently for Miriam to notice him. With a squeal, Miriam dashed to him and laughingly leaped into his arms. He, knowing full well what to expect, lifted her off her feet and swung her around in a circle a couple of times.

Heart aching, Adrian stood by and watched the rapture on her face. She was talking animatedly now with the stranger, her face flushed with excitement. He knew then that she had never exhibited such familiarity when he was with her. Reluctant to draw any unwanted attention to himself, he threw a last glance of despair before forcefully turning away. He didn’t hear the rustling of fabric, nor see Lucia looking at his disappearing back in concern.

Miriam led her father to the seat in the gazebo overlooking the water. Jordan followed at a respectful distance, far away enough for them to hold a private conversation. Isaac sighed, leaning over the railing. The water lilies were in bloom, their petals opened in welcome to the sun. Blue and red dragonflies kissed the surface of the water, circling around each other.

“You know, what I missed the most all these years is this garden,” he said. “There is no place like it.”

“You didn’t tell me any of it,” Miriam replied without heat.

“I didn’t tell you a lot of things because I never expected to be back here again.”

Miriam nodded. She took her father’s veined hands and squeezed for reassurance. After a silent pause, she said, “I’m glad you’re here, Papa. All this time I thought I was proficient in the Art, I never realized how much I depended on your support. These few months have been quite challenging.”

Her father smiled fondly and patted her hand. “It was time for you to learn to fly on your own, my daughter. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to learn to trust yourself.” Switching to a serious tone, he asked, “How is the king?”

Miriam shook her head. “I can’t say much. Only that this is one of the most complicated cases that I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“Ah, so I see.”

“Papa, will you promise me to stay with Ethan at all times when you’re here? The political situation has gotten volatile, and I don’t want you to get hurt if things happen.”

Noticing the urgency in her voice, Isaac frowned. Her plea was almost desperate, and quite alarming. He pulled back, examining her face for any indication of the origin of the problem.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me, Miriam?” he asked finally.

She was quiet. “No, Father.” When she looked up, her eyes were full of tears. “Please be careful, Papa. You are my whole life, and I don’t know what I would do without you.” She started to cry.

Her father gathered her up in his arms and ran a comforting hand through her hair, all the while making nonsensical noises of reassurance. His nose smarted with unshed tears as well. She was his little girl, his entire life, his reason to stay alive. Though he kept it from her, he had been worried sick about her well-being during these months of separation. His daughter had never been exposed to the complexities of politics and of the greater world. Though knowledgeable, she was also naive, looking through the world in her childlike innocence. How was she to get on in such a complicated place like Pelicana?

He had pored over every one of her letters, trying to glean from the lines what she was not telling him. He knew how the castle censor systems worked in times of trouble, and he knew what was important was often left out. When she requested his presence, he was ready to set off right away, until Collin talked some sense into him. It pained him to see his daughter so unhappy.

“I won’t live forever,” Isaac said when her sobs eased somewhat. “But I’ll always be with you, my dearest girl.”

She tried to smile, but her face was an embarrassing mess. He kindly patted her shoulder and handed her a handkerchief, looking elsewhere until she had cleaned herself up. He waited until she had composed herself before asking, “Now, how is that young man of yours?”

Her face was blank for a moment. “You mean... Adrian?”

“Why of course, our young chap of a First Counselor,” Isaac said, his eyes crinkled in his smile.

Miriam bursted out laughing, as he expected her to. “Oh Papa, he’s no young man of mine.”

“Pish posh,” he scorned. “He’s blind and silly if he doesn’t appreciate you for the gem you are.”

Miriam smiled wistfully. “Papa, you know I can’t have any young man without resigning as a Healer. How will I ever pass on all that you’ve taught me otherwise?” She paused for a while, thinking. A breeze blew through her loose hair, and she caught a whiff of cinnamon spice and smoke. The afternoon gleamed of late summer. Had it really been that long ago when she first arrived at Pelicana? In a few short months, her entire world view had changed.

Although Isaac had quit smoking, he still carried the unused pipe in his coat pocket. His fiddling of the pipe was a familiar gesture to Miriam, a sign that he was about to tell a story.

“As you know, healers were originally priests and priestesses. Needless to say, they were not allowed to marry because of their religious vows. When the division between the two was established, the Elders removed the ban on marriage for Healers. Healers at that time could marry.

“In the early history of Healers, there was a beautiful woman Healer, Lakisha. She had married a brilliant swordsmith, and they were happy together. They had been childhood sweethearts, and their love continued into adulthood. They lived comfortably, though not affluent. The couple’s pride and joy was their precocious twin daughters.”

“Then one day, Lakisha was summoned by a wealthy family in town to treat their son. He had a severe case of pneumonia, and so Lakisha visited him constantly for several weeks to take care of him. As healers, we deal with the physicality of a person, thus propriety between healer and patient must be respected, regardless of gender. However, as you know, because of the very nature of men and women, it is difficult to keep that propriety. It was no surprise, then, that the rich man’s son began to care for the beautiful healer, and she for him. In a reckless moment of passion, she betrayed her marriage vow to her husband.”

“Now, from Lakisha’s account, we know that she only had a temporary intercourse with this man, but the damage had incurred. Years later, she and her husband began to develop symptoms characteristic of syphilis. Lakisha’s husband was puzzled as to how he had contracted this illness, for he had been faithful to his wife. The only possibility, then, was that his wife had not reciprocate his faith. They died miserable deaths, alienated from the person they had pledged their life to, leaving two orphaned children in the lonely world.”

“Now, the Elders were concerned about this, for Lakisha’s story was not singular. Many women healers, in fact, had followed similar fate into adultery. It is my belief that this was caused by the general prohibition of interaction between the two sexes at that time, and that healing exposed women to such unfamiliar interaction that they knew not what to do. But to prevent the destruction of families, the Elders dismissed all married women healers and forbade women healers to marry. The men can marry, however, because the Elders were assured that men had more control over their natural impulses.”

“Men can be just as fallible as women,” she said fiercely, angrily pacing the length of the gazebo.

“Yes, I know,” her father sighed, running a hand through his gray hair. “But my point is to illustrate the layers of social problems and concerns at the time, which are true even today. During that period, we had a widespread paranoia of venereal diseases entering the home, a supposed place of refuge. Husband and wife were dying together, contracting the disease usually through their unfaithful spouse. At the same time, the very presence of women healers raises questions about women’s place in society that we are still not ready to answer today. You see, the ancient feminists of whom you devote so much time were not entirely radical.”

Miriam colored, unaware that her father even knew about her secret stash of dangerous feminist books. At her sheepish smile, Isaac laughed. “Yes, I knew all about those mysterious packages that you used to get from the city, Miriam. I may be old, but don’t think you could fool me for a bit.” He winked at her.

They basked in companionable silence. At last, Miriam asked, “Father, do you think the Council would ever repeal that idiotic rule prohibiting women healer from marriage?”

Looking into the distant shore of the lake, squinting his eyes against the sun, Isaac thought for a moment. “You know, I think this would be the right time for change. If our thinking had not progressed from the age when healers’ first emerged, then I would be severely disappointed by the human race.” He smiled at her and took her hand. “I, for one, would sure like to see you get married to a fellow you love.”

“And you wouldn’t mind having grandchildren, I reckon!” Miriam declared.

Laughing so hard that tears dampened the creases around his eyes, Isaac nodded. “Yes, Miriam. I shall like very much to have grandchildren.”

She threw herself into his embrace and said, “Oh, Papa. I’ve missed you so much.”

Isaac clasped his daughter close to him. “I’ve missed you too, Miriam.”

--

It was Miriam’s idea for her father and Ethan to visit Glass-smith Marcus. The trio found the man bending over his hot glass, swearing vehemently as always. Shaking his head with an amused smile, Isaac shouted over the roar of the furnace, “Good day to you, my old friend!”

The pontil dropped, the half-formed bubble of glass drooped into amorphism once more. The man’s face split into a wide grin. Despite the grime on his clothes, he pulled Isaac into a great clasp.

“Fancy seeing you here again, my friend,” Marcus boomed. He thumped Isaac on the arm with his burly fist, to which Isaac responded with a good-natured wince.

“I’ll have you know, it’s good to see your ugly face again,” Isaac responded.

Feigning indignation, he pulled the giggling Miriam to his side. “Never you mind your father,” he whispered loudly. “You inherited all your beauty from your mother, I assure you.” Gesturing to her father, he declared, “Your father is as ugly as any in Pelicana.”

Isaac laughed heartily.

“Well, come in, come in. Have a seat,” Marcus urged, swiping items off of his scarred table. It was only then that he noticed Ethan’s presence. Marcus froze, sending a hostile glare at the young man.

Scowling, he demanded, “Who is this young chap here?” He pointed to Miriam. “I’ll wager he’s another one of your suitors.” Miriam shook her head violently, but that didn’t change Marcus’ opinion.

To Isaac, he said, “I tell you, Isaac, you ought to watch your girl carefully. She brings a new man around for me to scare every few weeks. Before you know it, she’ll have teams of young men banging down your door, disturbing peace.”

Isaac took out mugs from one of Marcus’ cupboards, making himself quite at home. He gestured for Marcus to bring the ale. Working his mouth around the foam of the ale, Isaac said, “This is Collin’s dear boy, Marcus. Frankly I’m surprised that you haven’t noticed the resemblance between them, for young Ethan here looks exactly like Collin when he was younger. Don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Marcus grumbled. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still, I tell you, your girl brings too many strangers to visit me. Just the other week, why, yonder First Counselor stopped by, bright and early. Tells me he has his eye on your daughter. What was I supposed to do except scare him off?”

Isaac signaled for another pint of ale, downing that in one gulp as well. “You still grumble as much as ever,” he said to his friend. “Don’t worry, Marcus. Miriam knows to take care of herself. You’ll understand this better if you have a daughter of your own.”

Marcus snorted into his mug, sending foam flying everywhere. “As if I want one of those to worry about. No thanks, Isaac. You’re not going to fool me.”

Seeing that the two men were about to become very, very drunk, Miriam motioned for Ethan to follow her out. Ethan politely took his leave of the two men, but Marcus just grunted before waving him off. The young friends managed to withhold their laughter until they stepped safely out of earshot, where they bursted out their giggles.

Clutching her stomach, Miriam gasped, “Oh Gods.”

Ethan slumped against the wall, wiping his eyes of tears. “It is like every new year’s eve when your dad and my dad get drunk together, isn’t it?”

A little more composed, Miriam finally said, “They drink more than any young men in our village, I reckon.”

Slinging his arm around her shoulder, Ethan teased, “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s not like you spend enough time with people your own age to know.”

Working a frown on her face, Miriam looked at her friend indignantly. “I haven’t seen you in months, and yet you waste no time to start teasing me again.” She pouted.

“Of course,” Ethan replied flippantly. “You’re a sister to me, Miriam. I am thus entitled to tease you.” Reaching out, he caught Miriam in his arms and rubbed her head with the heel of his palm for good measure.

Miriam was sputtering when she emerged from his grasp, just as he knew she would be. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but he just grinned. Taking off, he shouted to her behind him, “Catch me if you can!”

Hiking her skirts up to an indecent length, Miriam sprinted after him, laughing. As they ran past the soldiers’ quarters, she could hear whistles and catcalls behind her, but she didn’t care. Ethan ran deftly up the stairs and ducked into the castle, and Miriam redoubled her efforts so as not to lose sight of him. Ethan’s hesitation at the maze of corridors was evident. Miriam caught him around his waist as he turned a corner. Her impact threw both of them off-balance, and Ethan hit the stone wall of the corridor, hard. He grunted, but held Miriam tightly so she wouldn’t fall.

“Damn, Miriam,” he whined after he caught his breath. “Must you run into me that hard?”

Miriam shrugged, examining the bandages around her hand. Her wounds must have opened again during their collision, for some blood was visibly seeping through the fabric. She hissed as she unraveled the bandage to examine the wound. Sighing, Ethan swatted away her fussing hand. Very gently, he used the clean side of the bandage to dab away the rest of the blood.

“I still caught you,” Miriam said.

Ethan laughed. “So you did.”

“What’s your forfeit?” Miriam asked playfully.

In the same spirit, Ethan tugged a strand of her hair. “Forfeit? You’ll be lucky if I agree to continue caring for your dear bits of grass in your yard. I had to go over every day this month to water them, don’t you know?”

“What’s going on here?” Adrian’s voice demanded from behind.

Breaking away from Miriam rapidly, Ethan offered his hand. “Ethan Macky.”

Adrian saw Miriam flushing, cradling her hand to her, and all jealousy exploded within him, kicking aside his reason. Adrian made no move to take Ethan’s hand, dismissing him with a glance. He took Miriam’s arm, drawing her away from Ethan. Awkwardly, Ethan withdrew his hand, wiping his palm on the leg of his trousers.

“You should be more careful with that,” Adrian said to Miriam, annoyed. “What were you thinking, running around like that?”

“We were just playing,” Ethan shouted after them.

Scowling at Adrian, Miriam wrenched her arm away from his grasp. She effectively elbowed her captor, eliciting a groan from Adrian.

“Why do you have to be such an arse?” Miriam hissed. “Ethan was being nice, and you are being rude. Get away from me, you idiot.”

“You ought to take care of yourself better,” he replied, gritting his teeth. It took Adrian every ounce of patient to keep his tone down.

“It’s just a scratch,” Miriam growled. “I should know. I’m a healer. Leave me be, Adrian. You’re not logical right now, and I can’t talk to you like this.”

Miriam took off, sprinting back to Ethan. Adrian looked back just in time to see Ethan ruffling Miriam’s hair playfully. His heart ached at their apparent affection for each other and the intimacy between them. “Enough.” He turned resolutely away from them.

“I don’t understand why he is so grouchy today,” Miriam said to Ethan after apologizing for Adrian’s behavior.

“I have a feeling your ‘young man’ doesn’t like me very much.”

“But you’re my best friend,” Miriam lamented. “You’re my brother, you’re my protector...”

Ethan raised an eyebrow when understanding finally dawned in Miriam’s eyes. “Yes, I daresay yonder first Counselor there is jealous of me.”

Miriam slapped his stomach, but not too hard. “You needn’t make me feel stupid, you know.” Her face fell. “But you’re my friend, Ethan. We don’t think of each other like that. We’ve never thought of our relationship like that.”

“No, dearest,” Ethan said gently. “I care about you greatly, as a brother and as a friend, but it’s easy for others to mistake our relationship.”

She gained a determined look soon after. “Well, nonetheless, Adrian needn’t be so rude with you. I’m not going to go and explain our relationship to him.”

Ethan laughed softly. “Miriam, you have no idea what men would do for you.”

Miriam pretended to not hear him. She gestured for him to follow. “I haven’t shown you my workroom yet!”

They walked companionably through the mostly deserted halls. Even through the thick walls, they could hear the bells ringing, calling for the afternoon session of the council to commence. As they climbed up the last stair to her room, Miriam thought she caught a glimpse of a moving shadow from the corner of her eye. Alarms went off in her head, and she reminded herself to be careful. Ethan, chatting nonstop, did not seem to have realized anything amiss. Miriam fished out a ring of keys and started to unlock the door.

“Wait until you see it,” Miriam said in a falsely cheerful tone. “It’s good to be funded by the King sometimes.”

Ethan pushed past her, making appreciative noises. Glancing around behind her, Miriam made sure no one was spying on them before closing it. Familiar with Miriam’s temperament, Ethan dared not touch the various glassware setting on the table. But he looked closely at them.

“All this new glass, Miriam,” he said. “You’re right. It is good to have the King’s treasury at your beck and call.” He sighed lustily.

Miriam laughed. “Ethan, you wouldn’t know what to do with all that money.”

“I reckon I do,” he said indignantly. “First I’ll get myself a nice farm, maybe a couple of horses as well. Then I’ll get me a lovely and sweet-tempered wife.” He eyed his friend. “The very opposite of you.”

Miriam bristled. Picking up a rag she used to wipe off glass, she tossed it at him. Ethan ducked, laughing. “You see what I mean,” he said.

Miriam smiled, but didn’t answer. She strolled to the windows and opened the curtains for more light.

She recoiled. At the bottom pane of glass, there was a bloody hand print. The message was clear. If she didn’t do something soon to the king, they would kill someone she loved. She snatched the fabric, pulling it closed to hide the print, but it was too late. Ethan had seen that something was wrong. He ran to her.

“What is this, Miriam?” he whispered. “What’s going on? Are you in danger? Who’s...”

Miriam silenced him with a look. Faintly, she said, “It was my hand, Ethan, when I cut myself here. Just a whim at the time, not to worry. Come, let me show you this new recipe for weapon salve. I heard it is very effective, yet I haven’t had a chance to use it yet.”

She drew him to the table covered with books and sheets of parchment paper. Flipping a heavy volume open where she had marked it, she pointed to the words though it was not the recipe for weapon salve.

“Here, let me give you a copy,” she said. Taking a sheet, she began to scrawl.

Don’t speak. There are ears and eyes around the castle.

“No, no, Miriam, you’ve made a mistake,” Ethan said, pulling the quill from her hand. “Here it says ‘half a clove of garlic,’ not ‘half a clove of nutmeg.’”

He wrote his question beneath her warning, then handing the quill back to her. She continued to act like she was copying from the book.

I can’t tell you much, for it might endanger you. The castle is not safe. Please promise me to look after my father regardless of what happens to me. Don’t ever leave him alone. Make sure no one hurts him. Be careful, my brother.

It took Ethan every ounce of will to hide his alarm. He knew now that Miriam was in danger. They all were in danger. It confirmed his suspicion that the strange things that happened along their journey had not been a figment of his overactive imagination. The people they encountered. The furtive glances in their direction in the inns. The nagging feeling that someone had been following them. It must all be related to Miriam’s problem.

You have my word. Be careful yourself, my sister.

--

“What the hell is wrong with you?” William demanded as they exited the last Council of the day. “I know Counselman Richard Wellesley was purposefully being more of an ass than usual, but must you insult him thus? You’ve sent the entire Council into an uproar.”

“Well, maybe I don’t feel like putting up with his nonsense,” Adrian snarled.

Sighing, William ran a hand through his hair and said, “Pummeling him in the face is no solution, Adrian. Now you’ll be suspended from Council for three days. How are we going to get on without you for three days, especially when the political situation is so volatile at this moment?”

Adrian was silent.

Giving a wry grin, William asked, “Tell me, how did it feel to punch that pompous whoreson?”

Adrian had to smile. “Fantastic. You ought to try it sometime.”

William laughed, then sighed wistfully, “Alas, I can’t afford to be suspended from Council. I do have a wife and two kids to feed, you know.”

Slugging a friendly arm around William’s shoulder, Adrian said dryly, “Lord William of Ravenshire, the family man. Who would have thought?”

“Shut up,” William replied without heat. “If your witch of a sister hadn’t seduced me thus, I would’ve still been leading the carefree life of a bachelor somewhere in the Mountains of Mohana.”

Holding his fist up an inch away from William’s nose, Adrian laughed, “Watch what you say about my sister, Ravenshire. I’ve already punched someone today and I don’t mind another.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” William shrugged off Adrian’s arm. He adjusted his sleeves fastidiously. “Lucia loves me too much to let you get away with it. You’re risking her wrath, my friend.”

“Damn it,” Adrian said regretfully. “You’re right.”

Instead, he turned around and plowed a fist into his friend’s stomach. William grunted, while Adrian smirked. “That always makes me feel better,” Adrian said.

Muttering under his breath, William wisely chose not to answer.

Adrian clasped William’s shoulder briefly. He said, “Well, I might as well use these next three days wisely. I’m going to go see Miriam before supper.”

William raised his eyebrows. “So Lucia was right.”

Adrian froze. “What do you mean?”

Laughing, William replied, “Lucia and I had a wager. She claims that you’re interested in our Mistress Healer, and I said you were only looking after her because of professional interests.” He scratched his head ruefully. “I should know better than to gamble on something that comes naturally to women.”

“Only women who are happy in their marriages and wish everyone the same, I suppose,” Adrian grumbled. “I suppose I wasn’t being too subtle about the whole issue.”

William shook his head, still grinning to see his friend so uncomfortable. In retaliation, Adrian asked wickedly, “What’s your forfeit?”

Holding his hands out, William shrugged. He sighed, “I said I’d take her on a romantic holiday next month, without the kids.”

Adrian scowled at William for good measure. “Does this mean Uncle Adrian is held responsible?” He feigned a shudder.

“At the direction you’re heading, I reckon you can use some practice,” William replied dryly.

“Perhaps.”

--

Adrian strolled down toward her workroom. While he didn’t feel like he had anything to apologize for, he didn’t want Miriam to remain angry at him. He paused at the door, thinking of what to say. Sighing in frustration, he ran a hand through his hair and stepped in.

There she was, swirling some liquid in a flask. It was bubbling furiously and in the process of turning into a dangerously bright yellow. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, a cloth tied over her mouth and nose as protection against the foul smell emanating from the flask. Adrian stood by the door for a moment. Even in a dirty apron with her hair mussed, he thought she was beautiful. As always, his heart clenched at the sight of her and his stomach flipped.

Knocking softly as to not startle her, he waited until she looked up. Blinking a couple times, Miriam managed to refocus her eyes on Adrian.

She tugged the cloth down, still tied around her neck. Setting the glassware down, she asked coldly, “Why are you here?”

Shutting the door behind him, he said, “I wanted to apologize for this afternoon. My lack of manners was uncalled for.”

“Quite.” She added a dash of powder, and the liquid turned transparent.

She rinsed her hands in the water basin and wiped them on a clean towel. Tossing the cloth on the table, she finally approached him. Fisting her hands at her hips, she tipped her head to one side. “Why did you behave so badly toward Ethan?”

She had to look up at him, but her gaze was demanding. They were close enough for Adrian to see the gold flecks in her eyes. His heart lurched in his chest.

“It’s just that... you’ve never look so happy when you’re with me,” he murmured.

Allowing her hand to rest against his cheek, Miriam said softly, “He’s like my brother, Adrian. We grew up together. I could never... I could never see him that way.”

He retained her hand where it rested, finally asking, “Do you see me in that way?”

Miriam jerked her hand away from him. “You’re a fool, Adrian, for caring about me in this way.” She stepped back quickly before turning her back toward him. She bent her head, fiddling with the hem of her apron.

Dragging a hand down his face, Adrian sighed, “So I am.”

“Adrian,” she said dejectedly. She looked over her shoulder, shaking her head. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

His expression remained impassive, but she could read the disappointment in his eyes. “I know.” He cleared his throat, staring at the tip of his boots. He made a mental note to have someone polish them tomorrow. He heard her approaching, and felt her brush his arm softly. Disregarding her protest, he took her in his arms. He cupped her face gently in his hands. Leaning his forehead against hers, he finally said what he had wanted to say to her all along.

“I’m in love you, Miriam.”

He pressed a small kiss on her forehead. The tears in her eyes deflated all his hopes and dreams. He sighed.

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” he said gently, “but I wanted to tell you, in case you change your mind some day.”

“If I do,” Miriam whispered, “I will let you know.”

Adrian nodded, letting her go. As he turned to take his leave, she said his name.

“When does the next courier leave the castle?” she asked.

“At five.”

He heard her whisper her thanks. He knew that when he retired to bed that night he would imagine the same whisper calling his name in the dark.

--

The dying sun spilled streaks of red across the sky. Miriam knew she had not much time before she must return to change for supper. She hurried to the stable, glancing behind her every so often to check she wasn’t followed. She had to duck into the chaotic kitchen to lose Jordan, hiding in the ice cellar until the cooks finally shooed him out of their way. It was going to be dark soon, and she needed to find out how to leave the castle at night.

Hiding in an empty stall, she didn’t need to wait long before the daily messenger appeared with the head stableman. He was already decked in his full armor, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Here is the First Councilor’s order and seal,” the man said. “Now fetch me my horse. I would like to reach the army before sunset.”

“Yes, right away, sir,” the stableman replied. He shouted for his stable boys, many of whom scrambled in to obey his orders.

Miriam held her breath until everyone left. She knew that she must get Adrian’s seal. And soon.

--

She didn’t bother to change out of her dinner gown, but she took special care with her appearance, washing her face and hands with soap. She took the little glass vial from the hidden compartment between the wooden boards of her trunk, shaking the translucent liquid a little and watching the vapors swirl on the surface. Hiding the vial in her bodice, she slid a sack of bare necessities beneath her mattress, out of sight.

Taking a calming breath, Miriam tried to visualize every step of her plan until it came automatically. She snatched the letter that she had penned earlier from her desk and headed towards Adrian’s chamber.

She knew where to find his study, but she had never been to his bedchamber. From the gossips she had picked up from the ladies of the court, she suspected it to be across the hall from his study. Carefully hiding in the shadows of the corridors, she glanced behind her to make sure she was not followed. She took out her handkerchief and wetted the fabric with the contents of the vial. Tucking the handkerchief behind her back in the ribbon straps, she knocked on the door that seemed to lead to Adrian’s chamber.

He was still in his evening wear, but he had rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and loosened his cravat. He stared at her silently, as if he had been surprised to see her. Without allowing her time for second thoughts, she pushed into the chamber and closed the door behind her.

“Miriam, what are you doing here?” he asked.

She sauntered closer to him, close enough to see him swallow nervously. Miriam made a note to thank Fanny if she ever had the chance. The male species seemed truly fascinated by swaying hips of the female species. Knowing she had not much time, Miriam reached out and undid the buttons of his tunic.

“Miriam.”

He grasped her hands, but the damaged had been done. His shirt fell partly open, and her hands snaked under the garment and worked against his chest. He was helpless as she pressed herself against him, his body ached with desire. Instead of pushing her away like he should, he found his arms around her, holding her close the way he wanted to.

One last attempt at rescuing his sanity, he said hoarsely, “Miriam, do you know what you’re doing to me?”

She looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. I’ve changed my mind about your proposition.”

He couldn’t think. His face was buried in her hair, and his control was slipping fast as her lips worked themselves down his throat towards his chest, clumsy and inexpert, but enough to drive him insane. It was exquisite, just as he dreamt it to be. He was panting when she finally drew away from his scalding skin. Before he knew it, she was pushing him toward his bed.

“Proposition?” His mind was blank.

“You know.” She eased him down until he was lying on his back. “The one you made me when we went walking the other night.” Her hand caressed his face, and he closed his eyes. “I think it would be a fine thing to be your wife.”

His eyes snapped open. Gravely, he said, “Miriam, please don’t jest at my expense. I was serious when I asked for your hand in marriage. I still am.” His expression softened. “If you mean what you say, you shall make me the happiest of men.”

She smiled, and made herself comfortable on top of his chest. He could feel her softness, every generous curve on her body. When her lips met his, he closed his eyes and groaned. He sank into the welcoming darkness of her taste, the heady smell of her skin. She used all that he taught her through their brief encounters, working her mouth desperately against his. His hands wandered to her breasts. She froze, but melted against him when he started to knead the soft flesh.

By the time she ended the kiss, his body was hard with desire. He kept his eyes closed, fearing it to be only a dream. He felt intoxicated by her. His heart was racing, his breathing a heavy pant. Before he could pull her back into his arms, he smelled a sickeningly sweet smell. When he opened his eyes, he saw that she held a handkerchief to his mouth and nose. A whiff of the stuff sent his mind reeling. Holding his breath, he grabbed her wrist and tried to pry her hand away. At the sight of the bandage around her palms, he hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt her. His lungs burned, screaming at him to do something. Panicking and desperate for air, he gasped deeply, and knew no more.

Miriam kept the handkerchief on his face for a while after he lost consciousness, just to be sure that he really was unconscious. Pushing with all her might, she arranged him into a more comfortable position on the bed. She twisted the seal off his finger, and secured it on a chain about her neck. Tucking the letter in his tunic, she draped a blanket over him. Lastly, she blew out the candles illuminating the room.

“Forgive me, Adrian,” she whispered to the dark chamber before she hurried out again.