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Yassia was fuming and she was hurt. It was a deadly combination. She needed an outlet and sadly for Oliver she had only one target in mind: him. She had enough of his false and hurtful accusations, she had enough of always being the one to blame in his eyes! What was he thinking? That she had willingly almost killed herself, and that she had been out in the probably most dangerous forest of Albion for fun? What HAD he been thinking of her anyway? As little as Yassia could combine this picture he must have of her with who she truly was, as little could she combine the old Oliver and the new one. Where was the sweet, caring though sometimes flirty man she remembered? The one that had taken her heart in one stride? Now he only made to stomp on her very heart with his totally inexplicable behavior.

Inexplicable, really? Even now, when she was so thoroughly angry at him, Yassia could not help but try to figure it out. There simply HAD to be an explanation, and she would not let this go without it. If he hated her now she wanted to know the reason out of his very mouth! If he had any reason to blame her, he had to give her the chance to vindicate herself. That was nothing if not fair! And if there was any reasonable explanation she would try to accept it… and try to move on. Because frankly, at this point Yassia could not believe in a happy end anymore. And this after she had just accepted an invitation to his homeland. Was she a masochist? Granted, it had not been him inviting her anyway, it had been his thoroughly charming brother, but the bottom line stayed the same: she would have to spend more time with him when all he wanted was getting rid of her apparently.

He would not get away with it! Now was the time to lay all cards on the table and she would NOT step down from that decision!
Swiftly she moved through the – apart from the guards – empty corridors, rushing so she would not lose Oliver’s trail. He was headed outside, towards the gardens probably. That was better than starting a scene in public of course, as Yassia was still a born and bred courtier and would hate to let others witness their confrontation.
With a deep intake of breath she welcomed the cool night air that already held a tint of chill, indicating that yet again the seasons were turning. Another year would pass… with her still being in the wrong place, dealing with problems that should not be her own.
Too bad she had not brought a shawl or anything… but then again Yassia had the indistinct feeling that her blood would be boiling soon enough to keep her reasonably warm.

She saw him standing there, beneath a few trees and just the familiar shape of his figure made her heart squeeze together in a feeling that was half hurt half pleasure. But it could not be. He had destroyed it. Or she had… long ago, with lying to him. Who could really say who was to blame here, the outcome stayed the same.
”Taking the easy way out, are we?” she called out to him in a rather challenging tone, though her voice was slightly hushed. No need to cause a scene just yet.

Now the storm was over, Yassia felt oddly empty. There was still confusion en masse, but after she had now snapped for the second time in one night, the anger seemed to be completely used up, consumed by a seething fire and left her with nothing but weariness and devastation. She was so tired of it all. Tired of having to battle her way through everything, breaking her heart for every little gain. Tired of making do with the little snippets of favor fate liked to throw into her way, just a little out of reach. And yet she knew if she gave in now to this devastation, she would fall down into a black hole and never emerge from it again. She would give up. And she could not. Not now. Not ever. If she gave up, her whole journey would have been pointless. She wanted nothing more than to go home, but she also feared that after such a long time, there would be no one waiting for her there anymore.

What she needed most now was someone just to hold her, to support her so she could find the strength again to carry on. And gladly, aside from all that had just passed between them, Caitrin seemed still willing to take up that particular role. The last time Caitrin had reached out for her, Yassia had rejected the contact, now she was seeking it. When her friend pulled her into her arms gently, the princess returned the hug almost desperately, clinging to her for a long moment as the tears started running again. How could she ever deserve such a friend? She could complain about her life all she wanted, but she had this one precious treasure, a true friend, and this she would not trade for anything in the world. Not even if Oliver decided to speak to her again… she would not even trade that for Caitrin! Or at least she could not imagine herself to.

”Thank you…” she muttered and breathed out a long, shaky sigh. “I really hope we can work over this some day… I’m such a horrible fury. Did I ever tell you my father started the only war Ailantha has ever been in because of a temper fit? Granted… my mother and my brother had died in a treacherous ambush before that, but still…”
She trailed off. Now was truly not the time to speak about such things. Caitrin must already be confused enough, without Yassia revealing more of her twisted life story.
When Caitrin released her, Yassia took another deep breath, more firm this time and tried to regain what little was left of her calm demeanour. She hoped that for tonight she was thoroughly done with flying off the handle. But she could feel the spark inside her having been thoroughly quenched. Now she was only dead tired, but she would not allow herself to rest yet. She needed advice first, else she would not be able to sleep anyway.

Caitrin couldn’t believe Oliver hated her? Well, she could not believe it either, but she knew it was true. It had been evident in so many things, even though she still thought it to be thoroughly undeserved. She had done nothing he had accused her of! Not willingly, anyway! Still, if she had had better control over herself back then, none of this would have happened, she would not have allowed herself to get involved this far… and him not either. But what’s done is done, and she could not take back any word and any touch. And if she was honest with herself, she did not even want to!
”His eyes showed enough of that…” she sighed, shaking her head, “and his words as well. He accused me of playing with his feelings”, a bitter laugh escaped her lips, “ME! Of all people! Can you believe that? I COULD not tell him who I really was, why can’t he see that?”

It felt good to think and act in clear patterns for the moment. The tablet she had set for her future, all the plans and the possible outcomes, had been wiped clear by the shipwreck. In truth, she didn’t even want to go on from this point, though she knew she had to. It was all such an impossible thing to think of. She had not imagined ever to have to make this journey on her own after Mircea had joined her, pledging his allegiance to bring her safely there and back again. But now she had to. Mircea was gone… lost for now, possibly dead. Thinking about the imminent present, about the small steps she had to take to avoid illness and get strong again, helped to keep the choking fear away. Fear of the great big unknown area ahead. Which she would have to battle through on her own. Yassia knew she was strong, she eventually she could make it. Just not now. Right now she was still feeling for a hand to guide and support her, desperately grasping for everything that could keep her strong.
And Lorcan was giving her this hand. He was there. He would not leave her alone right now. He had said so, hadn’t he? She needed this reassurance so much right now, it was almost pathetic to think of. But then, Yassia could allow herself to be pathetic right now, yes? Tomorrow was still time to be strong…

Giving him another thankful smile she accepted the cup. Yes, it was maybe still too hot to drink of, but it would warm her hands if nothing else. And drinking it hot would help with the unpleasant taste. In good foresight, she had mixed the little pieces of willow barch with other herbs that would not interfere with the barch’s effect but would add a better taste to it… at least a little. It would still be horribly bitter. Chamomile… to further calm down quivering nerves – that never was the wrong thing to do when treating ill people. And a little anise. Now anise was the one thing she always connected with her mother, who had for some odd reason always carried a little pouch with aniseed on her belt. The familiar smell rising up from the steaming cup was soothing. It was almost as if her dead mother would smile down on her, holding her into her arms and singing a soothing lullaby like she always had on the rare occasions Yassia had truly been ill.
”Thank you Lorcan… I am sure it will help”, she assured him and tried her first little sip, puckering up her face already at the bitter taste. “Sadly not better than I remember it, but then I guess… it helps and that’s all that counts.” A little encouraged she took another, bigger sip this time and promptly burned her tongue and the roof of her mouth. “Great…” she murmured with a sheepish smile, opening her mouth slightly to allow the air cool the inside.

His words were somehow amusing again, though Yassia could not quite tell where she took her sentiments from. But simply the image of taking away the little she saw of Lorcan, left quite the interesting idea in her head. Why should she not tell him? If anything it would show him that she was already on the mend, being able to joke around with him.
”Now, isn’t that an interesting thought”, she began, looking at him intently with her seagreen eyes that held specks of brown. “If there was not much left, would you dissolve into thin air? Like a ghost? Oh please, stay, I don’t want that to happen just yet!” Had she had any strength in her limbs, she would have even teasingly reached out for him to keep him at her side. But as she had not, the mere words would have to be enough. And maybe it was better this way. She could not tell after all how he would take it.
His next comment though chased away a little of the merriment that had just passed between them. It touched too many sore spots to be taken so lightly. “We can’t run away though, yes?” she whispered, looking at him again. “We have to fight, don’t we? But then, maybe running away is also a fight sometimes? Because you are not only running FROM something… but TOWARDS something as well?”
Now she had all but giving him hints about herself and she hastily shut her mouth and took another sip of the now slightly colder tea.

Apparently Lorcan had gotten her simple gesture thoroughly wrong, and instantly Yassia regretted using it, wasting so much strength she could have used otherwise on something he did not even understand. She had wanted to show him that he should not fear of being obtrusive, not disregarding his fears. She had not wanted to shoo him like a silly child, she knew he was anything but!
”I’m s-sorry”, she whispered, looking away. “I d-did not mean any d-d-disrespect, Lorcan.”
She really could not see the choice she had in this matter. If she refused out of fear it would be her death. And willingly dying just because she was too shameful was so absurd it was no option at all. No, however you put it, there was only one choice: Going through with it. Then however he was also right. She had a choice in how she would take to this. She could choose to think nothing of it, allowing Lorcan to work properly without constantly fearing of his trespasses. Yes, she could CHOOSE to trust him. And that she did.
”Yes, I DO trust you”, she confirmed once again. This time she locked his gaze, putting all her honesty into her eyes so he could see she was not only saying it. Everything would be fine.

And yet, her composure slightly waned the next second. But it was not a totally unpleasant waning. If anything, it made her heart beat stronger as she felt the touch of his hand on hers, even though it was nothing but a friendly gesture. And then his eyes again… they pierced into hers, but it was not an unpleasant piercing. It was almost as if he was working a spell of some kind to keep her captured in his gaze as he seemed to check her eye color. Was this all there was to it? Why was he getting so close? And why did she like it?
And what was he saying there?? That her eyes were more beautiful than the dress? What a funny comparison, but what an excellent word play on the word ‘match’ nevertheless! If anything, she had to compliment him only for that! But what to answer him? Surely that demanded an answer, though she could not quite think of any that would be appropriate.
”I am sure my eyes thank you”, she replied finally, a fine smile playing around her lips. “Or I do so on their behalf. I just hope you did not offend the dress now, or else it might refuse being worn by me…” Now she being silly again, of course, but better silly than… yes, than what actually?

Realizing she could not stall it any longer, Yassia took a deep preparing breath. “I best need to sit”, she instructed him with a hopefully steady voice. “For… for to get out of this dress, I need you to undo the lacing at the back.” She was wearing her worn and now soaked riding dress, the only thing the sea had apparently left her with. It did not have a heavy corslet like many of her more formal dresses, but there was still a corslet-like lacing in the back to keep it tight fitting and in shape. The laces now were probably soaked and tumid so that it would be a right pain to undo them… Great… more cause for slight discomfort on her part and much fumbling for Lorcan… she didn’t really know if she wante to change places with him or not… who was the one better off in this?

“You’re just saying that now. Earlier, you had cursed me to the depths of hell and maybe beyond,”
The sole mentioning of this particular fact, made Yassia’s guts squirm and burn in shame. Did he HAVE to bring that up again? She was already feeling so bad about it as it was. Given, she had only said these words under the impact of severe pain, and it had been the first thing to come to her mind, but she still felt the urgent need to redeem herself from this inexcusable slip. Not for cursing in general, for cursing HIM. He surely did not deserve that!
”I know I have, but you must believe me when I say I did not mean these words, Oliver”, she beseeched him, a rather pitiful expression on her face. “Can you forgive me? Please, you must! I know what a dire thing it is to curse someone, and the least thing I want is you to have bad luck because of me… I’ve brought you enough of that already.”

Yassia tried to rein her laughter in, as she saw how puzzled Oliver was. Had he really not caught on the rather insinuating content of his remark? But then, maybe it was just a language problem again… as the word for the woolly thistle spikes could also be used as a euphemism for hair at a very particular place… - not that a girl of her state should know any of these things, but she had been quite prone to eavesdrop on maidservant’s conversations in her younger years, not expecting the things she would get to hear. And even now, just thinking of it made her cheeks flush. Oh why could Oliver not leave that subject be? It was embarrassing enough already! She could not possibly tell him what his words had made her think of! She wanted to hit her head for it anyway!
“Tell me or else…”
Yassia, too desperate to let this subject be, had to play with fire now. At least it might divert his attention momentarily. “Or else… what?” she asked with a wink. “You’ll use me for target practise again? Or is there something even more vile on your mind?” Now, she only hoped he would not get THAT wrong as well… Sweet stars, out of the kettle and into the fire!

“And if the pay is up to my standards. I am a superb huntsman after all. I’d be giving up the lure of the forest to the comforts of your bed---your home.”
She blinked when she caught on the slip. Had he meant to say bed? Or bedroom?! Well, either one of those was highly unseemly in itself, and she could not possibly let him get away with that without monishing him… or could she? Did it even matter? There was nothing vile behind his words after all, yes? If so, she would have realized it long ago, as he surely would not have waited long to make a move of some kind. No, she was safe with him… and anyway… the thought of him in her bedroom… it did not fill her with irritation at all. Goodness, Yassia, stop it!!! This can’t be, never! But she felt sad at the thought, truly sad.
As the whiskey still made her very reckless, Yassia suddenly heard herself saying: “Well what would be an acceptable price, my dear furniture? Name it.”

He agreed to her eating plan, which made Yassia feel oddly excited. This should be nothing, yes? So many people did that all the time, sharing bowls, because they simply couldn’t afford more than a few. And this was a similar situation. Pure need of circumstances, nothing else. And yet again… she knew what story was now coursing inside her mind. Her mother had told her this one so very often when she was a child, and it had always been her favourite. Today, Yassia sometimes thought that the princess in the tale had been very similar to her: A proud lady that had given a promise she didn’t want to keep, but circumstances had forced her to change… and it had been a temper fit that had broken the curse, that was peculiar and amusing indeed. Right now, Princess Yassia was willingly setting up the stage to get her own Frog Prince… allowing him to eat from her bowl.

She had not minded the little spill of sauce, but Oliver’s hands turned the simple moment into something magical. Oh, if he only could let his fingers linger there… if he would only never look away. For now, Yassia was simply caught under his spell, and she didn’t even mind. Her eyes gleamed with trust and a feeling of deep affection as she was looking up at him. Whatever he decided to do now… it would be wonderful… and she would not mind at all.
But his joking words somehow broke the spell, dragging her back into reality. She was not sure how to take these words, they had surely not been meant to offend… but Yassia was nothing if not a little vain!
”You have a peculiar choice of compliments sometimes”, she teased him and slapped his arm lightly where she could reach it. “You try to stay clean when on the road and the brooks are freezing cold!”

What was going on his twisted mind, really?! What kind of stupid tale had he fabricated there in his mind? Hadn’t he been the one lying as well? Playing the normal huntsman with his friends, pretending to be nothing but a common man. To what end? Surely because otherwise women might feel intimidated. Would she have joked around like that with him had she known who he really was? Certainly not, but not because of being intimidated! She would have felt obliged to act in a thoroughly courtly fashion, like she had been brought up to! So how dare he now assume she had made it all up? Who would be so twisted as to bring oneself in the line of danger to ensnare men? That was one of the absurdest things she had ever heard, and the thought filled her with amusenebt and anger alike.

"Oh, don't give me too much credit now. I'm sure any other man would have been on their toes to cater to your every whim,"
Yassia gave a very unladlylike snort and intensified her glare. If she had possessed any magic Oliver would just now suffer death by a choking spell or anything. Maybe it was good she didn’t. Not only because that would mean her own certain death, but because something inside her still didn’t want to hurt him. Well, not much… she wouldn’t mind slapping sense into him right now.
”I once called you a good man for helping me, Prince Oliver”, she retorted, meeting the rage in his eyes bit by bit. “And I meant that. But now I see I was thoroughly mistaken. I wonder, do you lash out at me like that to hide some base motives of your own?” The rememberance of their sweet kiss now burnt in the back of her mind. Had he been playing her all along? “Too bad for you we didn’t get much further yes? Too bad I was not as compliant as Lady Electra!”

She had not wanted to bring up this particular topic, but just right now she could not stop herself. The image, together with the memories she had treasured in her heart, just hurt too much. She had been weak back then… both physically and mentally. And still she wished they could just get back to this feeling…
Yassia had not expected what came next, him drawing her so much closer and she could not suppress a gasp of surprise… and was there something else to it? Fear? No… maybe a little, as he still seemed to enraged, but there was another sentiment she could not quite place, and it was this one that made her mouth go dry and her breath and heartbeat accelerate. Even through the many layers of her dress, she could feel his rigid muscles pressed against her. A part of her wanted to wiggle free, but another, stupid part also wanted to stay.

Her eyes growing wider and wider, she listened to his enraged speech. Now that was the proof: he thought she had staged all of this! HE thought she had played HIM while she thought the same!! How… twisted could a situation get?! But the relief was short-lived as he mentioned Edmund. How dare he indeed portraying her as a minx! Had SHE been the one being surprised with someone else in a dark corner?!
There was no need to speak loud due to their closeness, but her words were still distinct and clear, carrying all her annoyance and anger.
Locking his gaze, she spoke very slowly. “I see… I see now what you think of me! And as fixed as you seem to be on this idea, I doubt there is much I can say to change your mind. But let me tell you this…” she had to compose herself momentarily as her mind was reeling from their pleasant-confusing proximity.
”I swear on the souls of my father, mother and brother that what I told you is true. The choice to conceal myself from you was not mine to make. I had just escaped another pair of fishing hands that wanted to exploit my predicament. If you don’t believe the petty words of a treacherous woman, then go and ask my uncle Kaye. Being a knight of Camelot should make him honorable enough in your eyes.”

The dance was over fairly quickly, and Yassia wondered for a moment if a waltz wasn’t supposed to last longer? But then again, who was she to complain? She had enjoyed the dance, yes, but she also would not mind leaving now. Would Edmund ask her for another dance? He seemed not to be averse to it, and a part of Yassia actually appreciated the attention he was giving her. Not for his, but for her own sake. Being viewed with so much disgust and scorn like Oliver had looked at her could mean a serious prick to your self-esteem, and so Yassia didn’t really mind if it was raised a little again from the ground.
They did not speak again and Yassia found the silence soothing on one hand, but on the other it also allowed her thoughts to stray. And in dangerous directions at that. Over and over Oliver’s words repeated themselves in her mind. That the woman he had known had been everything she was not… it was absurd of course, but then a tiny part of Yassia ached to know if it could be true. She HAD acted differently back then… she had allowed things to happen she would normally never allow. But Oliver had been different back then as well…

Oh great, wasn’t there a MINUTE on this cursed evening when she would NOT think about him?! And to make matters even worse, just when she herself had been about to ask Edmund if he agreed on another dance, she heard an all too familiar voice that struck her through and through.
HIS turn? He did not… he had not just…?!
But there his arm already sneaked around her waist and she found herself eye in eye with none other than Oliver, leading her into the next dance. Her feet automatically responded to the rhythm with years of practise, so they at least spared her a thorough embarrassment, but the rest of her body was not quite as calm. Why was he dancing with her?! She could not deny that it felt wonderful, felt RIGHT in a twisted way, as if his arms where the only place she belonged, but just a look in his eyes brought her back to the harsh reality.

His eyes were not gleaming with the kindness she had known and come to love about him. Like before, he was eyeing her with scorn and some other undistinguishable feelings that were oddly opposed to the situation they were in.
This dance, she realized, would not be much of a dance… it was meant to be a duel!
”I see your shoulder has healed quite nicely for you to dance again so gracefully. I had dreaded that my arrow might have rendered your shoulder unfit for dancing anymore,”
It cost her much to not wince at these harsh words and she wondered again bitterly how she possibly could have brought herself in such a situation. It was an odd distortion to her dance before with Edmund. He had said courteous words that were empty… Oliver now used the same language but his words were practically bursting with hidden and hateful meaning.

”I remember you voicing such a concern”, she replied in the same fashion. Her voice level, but her eyes practically shooting daggers at him. “But not to worry, thanks to your gracious care I am quite restored and won’t break at the first heavy gust of wind.”
There was a clear challenge in her words. He could assault her all he wanted, could slander her openly or secretly, she was strong enough to retaliate and make him pay. Oh yes she would make him pay! Apparently he had been lying with every word he said a year ago. Or he had not, but he couldn’t see past the fact that she was not a free little nomad. Someone he could seduce and then never see again…
However, a tiny part of her hoped that it was all just a grand misunderstanding that would clear itself somehow. But she would not beg for his acceptance. She had her pride! Just that her body knew nothing of this pride. It wanted nothing more than to melt in his arms, be there and stay there forever.

The waltz had to be one of Yassia’s favourite dances. Just a couple of years ago, it had been deemed quite scandalous when introduced into the court scene, as it caused man and woman to dance with not much of a respectable distance, one hand holding her by the waist even. It was not a group event like the other court dances where you always interacted with other couples so that you never quite could establish a feeling of privacy. But the waltz was nothing if not a pair event. Apart from the basic steps there was no particular order to observe and each couple could find its own personal way across the dance floor as long as it did not intercept the way others took.
If you happened across a good dancer, a firm leader, the woman could practically lean back and float over the floor like a feather. Only flying must be better than dancing a waltz. And Edmund, Yassia observed, was a very good dancer. She could have easily let go and let herself be taken up wholly by the dance, but something held her back.

It was nothing but a stupid sentiment, but she felt that her heart was not in it. A part of her wished to be dancing with a different man. The very same man that had just walked out of the banquet hall in a hurry.
But dreaming of one man while dancing with another was not only uncourtly, it was also unfair, so Yassia tried to grace Edmund with more attention. He was resuming to nothing but courteous talk though, she realized with an inward sigh. It was the proper thing to do while dancing, keep a distance of mind if you can’t uphold the proper physical distance, but still… she couldn’t help but wish for more. However, she answered as it was right.
“That they really do”, she agreed with a little laugh. “And isn’t it amazing how they brought it on so quickly. The time for preparation was not long. I have seen a few feasts in Camelot already, and they were all marvelous.”

Should she add a comment now about how glad she was for Arthur he could experience the temporal crowning as a true feast, without having to mourn his father? Uther Pendragon was still alive, even though he was said to be a broken man. Maybe time would heal the wounds, but maybe they also wouldn’t. It was maybe not a topic to talk about while dancing after all…
As Edmund swayed and turned her another round, Yassia’s eyes thought to catch a movement at the door, and with the next right turn she craned her neck slightly to see clearer. Was she imagining things or was that Oliver standing only a few yards away? Why had he come back? What had MADE him come back? She nearly lost the rhythm of the dance for a moment, but then mentally slapped herself. Don’t care so much about him, he certainly doesn’t care for you…
And yet, and yet… her favourite two words when it came to Oliver de Mercia…

Yassia’s gaze flickered back and forth between the drunk soldiers and the man at her side, drawing a few conclusions, but still not quite sure about the constellation she was witnessing. If he had a band of soldiers at his heels he had to be of some importance, yes? And had to be on friendly terms with Camelot as well, else they would not have let him through the city gates with his men. Truly interesting…
”If they’re running after you, you must sport some name, yes?” she hazarded, leaning forward in interest. “I don’t see a common travelor needing – and not wanting – so many guards at his heels. Correct me if I am wrong, because if I learned one thing on the road it is that you never stop to be surprised. Though…” she gave a short wink, “I am all but sure I am right about this one! Hope they won’t get you back for getting them drunk…”

If anything, this short encounter had managed to chase away the feeling of discontent that had loomed over her just a minute ago. Now she was slowly starting to see the benefits of it. Tomorrow she could have a fresh start, leave the tavern already in her splendid gown to make a good impression on her uncle once she found him. Tonight was about saying goodbye to her nomadic state. As little as she had believed it to happen in the beginning, the experience and the life she had led, had at least a little grown on her. Not the nearly starving, not the fear alone in the forests at night, and certainly not the many unpleasant encounters she had had, but all in all, she could say it might have changed her for the better. She had witnessed life from the other side of the coin and surely had more inside now as to how the common people lived and what their problems were. Maybe it would help her to become a better queen.

The former Yassia would have reacted rather defensive and angry to his suggestive behaviour, but she had come across that too often now already to still truly care. Of course she still found it displeasing, but why kill the mood of the conversation just yet?
”Both”, she replied with a little chuckle, but added determination to her words with her eyes. “I am on my own, and I don’t wish to alter that fact just now. But I won’t decline company for a drink.”
It was no harsh rebuke, just a little reminder that she was not that kind of woman. Hopefully he would take the hint with good grace.

To say that Yassia was nervous might be a little understatement. But it was not a negative nervousness, she had been practically bursting with excitement all day. Finally, finally she would meet with Romily again, her friend she had met under such peculiar circumstances who had shared a similar fate. They had lost sight of one another quite thoroughly, but now they finally could catch up and make the long departure be forgotten. So many things had happened in the meantime, so many things indeed. Good things and bad alike, one of the worst being that Yassia was still here while she should be ruling and protecting her own kingdom, but today was not a day to complain about this fact.
After all, if she was not here right now but on her way to Ailantha, there would be no chance to meet Romily, now would there? It was all a question of priorities, and even though her future should be her primary concern, today Yassia was more than ready to focus on the present and its perks.

The better half of the day she had been roaming her uncle’s estate nervously, not finding it in her to sit down and do some reading or do some of the other things ladies deemed useful. Then she had added a throwing knife lesson in the backyard, torturing a poor oak with her fidgetiness. But soon that had not proven to calm her nerves either. Just as she finally had settled down in an armchair at the fireside, the arrival of a servant sent her bolt upright again, almost jumping to her feet and only refraining from it because it would have been highly unseemly. “Your Highness”, the girl said with a trained curtsy. “Your guest has arrived. Thomas is just receiving her at the door.”
With at much dignity and as little haste she could muster, Yassia rose to her feet and smoothened out her skirts. “Thank you, Anne. I will go greet her myself!”

With that she made her way, speedy but not hasty, towards the door and moved across the hallway, turning into the entrance hall just so see Romily standing in the doorway and just happened to hear her last words. Before Thomas could answer, Yassia spared him the trouble, coming up behind him,
”That indeed she is and with growing impatience!” she exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “Not that you are late or anything, I just couldn’t wait. Thank you Thomas, that would be all”, she dismissed the servant and then turned again to Romily. “Come in my dear! How long has it been? I don’t even dare to think too hard on it!”