I watched only the knight's face as he spoke, finding myself smiling as he smiled. There was a certain charm in his deep tenor, his lively talk. Such a bright expression made it difficult to remember the shadow of sorrow I had seen on him only moments ago, and I could not help but feel concerned that he should cast it away so quickly. The good knight Peter would not be the first to have hidden away dark things that so badly needed healing.

Settling myself on the horse was no easy task. My face was warm from the continued graces of the men, their touch and their glances as I had been guided onto Lancer. But I listened, trying to straighten my back, to balance, to nod back at what I heard. The mention of Hunter brought to mind curious images, as I had seen jousting only in books. It sounded terribly frightening, having such a pole aimed for one's heart, but Peter talked of it as if it were merely a challenging sport. What manner of life had Hunter and these men known?

“Your sister is fortunate to have a brother so brave and so generous.” I could not help the stiffness as I felt him behind me, clutching my cloak with my hands and the horse with my knees. What their city was like, I did not know, and still I wished to be left in the forest. My eyes searched the dark leaves, my nose the mossy musk of the trees for a reason to linger. These men were terribly kind, but I was outnumbered and still very much in their power. What would happen when we reached their home?