After years of failing to successfully become pregnant, instead of a strapping boy to carry on the family name, my mother, Dame Armina Dyxn, delivered a squalling female.

I am told that the moment I was pulled from her body, my mother turned her back and refused to suckle me.

Thankfully, my father, Sir Johann Dyxn, had a team of wetnurses and nannies standing by.

My father firmly believed that his Lady Wife spent the years of their marriage working rather diligently to prevent pregnancy. She was extraordinarily bitter upon learning of her condition and engaged in activities a suspicious mind might say were intended to shake me loose from her womb prematurely.

My father imposed restrictions upon her, going as far as to confine her and set guards on her as my birth drew near. She screamed and cursed at everyone that attended to her. Against all convention, Papa remained in the birthing chamber, and took me, screeching in outrage from my journey into the world, from the midwife, and soothed my first tantrum.

He would often tell me that the moment I gazed up at him I ceased my cries and smiled.

"We were instantly mutually enthralled, you and I," he related fondly.

My mother never forgave him for loving me.

Needless to say, I was devoted to my Papa. I had my share of nannies and attendants, playmates, and schoolmates but I spent the bulk of my time shadowing my father as he handled the daily business of Cheslyn Bay, a major Barony in the sweeping and prosperous province of Hyki.

I sat at his feet with my books while he negotiated docking fees and rode his back or his hip when he inspected goods brought in on vessels of every size and type.

I was just entering my tenth year when I met Lady Drucila Fanche, the beloved Domai of Hyki, and the woman I desperately wished was my mother from that moment forward.

She was elegant and kind; soft-spoken, yet firm.

Armina made a right ass of herself -more than normal- during the weeks that lead up to Her Grace's visit. She changed the menu no less than five times and drove Kensi, my father's loyal and capable Steward, to tears with her outrageous and expensive demands.

Eventually, Papa stepped in, put the entire matter in Kensi's hands, and forbade Armina from meddling any further.

Chaos ensued.

She screamed; she threw things and she even physically attacked Papa when he stood his ground.

That was the first time I saw Papa order guards to confine his wife and summon a physic to look after her. It was the first of many occasions.

Papa surprised me with a new gown and my first pair of heeled slippers. I was so delighted, squealing and tottering about, practicing my fine manners so that Her Grace would not be annoyed with me as my mother always was.

The day of her arrival dawned dark and ominous, with heavy clouds boding ill for the tour of our gardens Papa promised I could give Lady Fanche. Papa calmed me with hot cocoa with my breakfast and lifted me onto his hip when a fine carriage came through our gates into the circling drive. It was simple and refined with smooth lines in a subdued silvery gray. Papa settled me to my feet and stepped up to open the door.

A cloud of light, floral fragrance enveloped me before the woman we waited for accepted Papa's hand and stepped out of her carriage.

"Is this little Makayla?" she exclaimed at once. "How she's grown!"

I was startled when this elegant lady knelt before me in her fine gown and smiled at me. Her bright blue eyes captivated me, and I clung to Papa, hiding my face behind his legs, suddenly shy.

None of Mother's friends paid any attention to me. I was not accustomed to such close regard.

"Oh, my apologies, little one," Lady Fanche sat back on her heels. "I am Drucila, and it is my pleasure to meet you."

I gazed up at Papa, and his gentle smile encouraged me. I slowly stepped away from him and dipped the curtsy I had practiced.

"Milady, welcome to Cheslyn Bay."

Her smile grew brighter, and she dipped her head to me in a respectful nod. "I thank you, Miss. I am delighted to be here."

"Now, Dru," Papa, said, offering the Lady a hand up, "let's get you inside and settled before these skies open up. Kayla will never forgive me if I let you get soaked."

"Well, we mustn't disappoint," Lady Fanche laughed lightly.

The next hours were spent in a leisurely manner. Papa, the Domai, and I lounged in our solarium and watched the storm break over the harbor that made our estate so significant to Hyki. I tuned out the dull drone of adult conversation while I amused myself with books Papa kept on a shelf just for me. I sprawled on a chaise surrounded by dolls and lost myself in the adventures unfolding within the pages.

Before long, Armina was escorted into the solarium. She was coifed to the point of pain, her pale blonde hair drawn up in a tight bun at the back of her head. Her cool green eyes swept over me, unseeing, and flickered between Lady Fanche and Papa where they sat in chairs near a stone-lined firepit.

"Drucila," Armina intoned, gliding forward. "Pardon my tardiness."

"It's no trouble, Lady Dyxn," Lady Fanche bestowed a neutral smile upon my mother.

"Have you eaten?" Armina inquired.

I blinked and frowned. Papa was very clear that one should bow or curtsy to the Domai, and always address Her Grace formally unless she allowed otherwise. My mother remained stiff and aloof, gazing at Lady Fanche with an arrogance that brought my father to his feet.

"Armina, Her Grace will be visiting for a week," he informed her.

My mother tossed a derisive glance at Papa before settling an arch look upon Her Grace.

"An entire week of bowing and scraping to this?"

Papa frowned and offered an apologetic sigh to Lady Fanche.

"I had hoped your condition was exaggerated," the Domai said, rising slowly. Lady Fanche stood a full head taller than Armina, and I was struck with how easily she carried herself, as opposed to my mother's stiff posture. Lady Fanche was comfortable in her skin and confident.

"I am saddened to see quite the opposite is true. Leave us, now, Armina," she commanded, her voice deepening to a compelling tone that snapped my mother's back straight.

"You will not order me about in my house!" Armina screeched.

Lady Fanche smiled, both pity and disdain darkening her eyes. "But I will, Armina. You see, I came to see Baron Cheslyn on estate business. You have no place at that table. Johann?"

Papa lifted a hand and guards I had not seen moved to detain his wife. Her shriek of protest was silenced, and the doors closed behind her with a final thud.

"I am so sorry, Johe," Lady Fanche went to Papa and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We will get her the help she needs."

"Thank you, Dru," Papa sighed. "I just cannot handle her any longer, and I must be wary of her around Kay."

"Of course," Lady Fanche agreed and turned a brilliant smile on me. "Don't worry your pretty head about any of this, little one," she told me gently.

I didn't see Armina again for the remainder of Lady Fanche's visit. The rains gave way to sunshine and cool ocean breezes the next day and I walked Her Grace through our gardens with pride in the variety of plants, trees, and flowers we cultivated. The kitchen garden burst with vegetables, small patches of grain, and fruit trees with herbs in terraced rows near the kitchen door. Papa and I accompanied her to our stables where we saddled and rode along the shore to the great harbor.

On the day of her departure, Lady Fanche promised to write to me and invited us to visit the great Hyki Manor soon.

I sat on Papa's hip and watched the silver carriage glide out of our gate and speed away with its softly purring engine.

Within a fortnight, I received my first letter from the Domai. I felt so very important, even though it was nothing more than a small note thanking me for hosting her. The note accompanied a box that held gardening tools and gloves, even a smock all in my size.

The following month, Lady Fanche sent me books, some on gardening, others on sailing and horses.

She asked me to address her by name, but I couldn't bring myself to be so informal. I proposed to call her Lady Dru, and she accepted.

When I expressed interest in studying herbs and the healing arts, Lady Dru supplied a list of accredited schools, and various courses I could take, and suggested books and pamphlets for supplemental reading. She supplied letters of introduction to known physics to whom I could apprentice to further my learning.

Over the years, my mother came and went from our lives sporadically. In my fifteenth year, I learned she was being kept in a facility that treated the emotionally and mentally unbalanced, courtesy of Lady Dru. When she was home, Armina was closely monitored, and I was never left alone with her.

It was a sad fact that Armina's presence was detrimental to Papa. Our family Gift was Empathy, and my mother's perpetually vindictive disposition was poisonous to Papa's sensitive soul. I overheard them once, fighting about it. 

"A pity you can't feel more than contempt, Mina," Papa sighed. "I am just relieved that Kay hasn't presented, yet."

"That simpering little wench would deserve whatever she got from me and don't presume to know my feelings, Johann" she growled. "I'll not have you spying on me. I demand privacy!"

"Mina," Papa sighed again. "I can only presume you hate my Gift so much because you don't have yours. Your carriage will arrive early. Do us both the favor of being on it promptly."

I stood in mute shock in the hall until Papa scooped me up and carried me to the kitchen for ice cream. A shrewd tactic, because I never gave Gifts another thought until mine began to present.

I took no notice of how carefully Papa monitored my interactions with Armina until my seventeenth year. She was with us for the week, and Papa was called away while I was out foraging for fresh herbs and mushrooms. I entered the house from the kitchen garden with my basket overflowing. Armina hovered near the warm stove, and I nodded in greeting.

I long ago gave up speaking directly to her. She never acknowledged me unless it was to demean and deride me. Papa kept our contact minimal, but in the rare moments of his absence, Armina was brutal with her words.

"Mucking about in the dirt, are we?" she sneered.

I took a breath and tightened my grip on the handle of my basket. She was fully aware of my work with herbs. Papa boasted of my growing skills at every opportunity, a behavior that no doubt irritated her to no end.

"I never wanted you," she hissed, and I stepped back. 

Her malignant aura crept toward me. It slithered across my skin and made me shudder. She had come closer to me while my thoughts wandered. 

"You will never replace me," she snarled, and my throat tightened in true fear. The shudder became a tremble and a chill slid over me. "I am Dame Dyxn, not you!"

Her eyes, which had always been so cool and distant were bright and feverish, bulging from her narrow face.

"Do you have nothing to say? No simpering whine to excuse you? Papa is not here to save you, now," she laughed darkly, and I gasped when I saw the glint of a blade in her hand. "I have been waiting for this moment since the day I shat you out."

Horror gripped me when she lunged, slashing toward me with that blade. I surrendered to fear and flung my basket up to block her. Her growl fell on deaf ears, for I was fleeing for my life back the way I came, darting into the garden.

"You won't escape me!" she shrieked behind me, and my legs moved faster.

I dashed around waist-high rows of corn and wheat and sped into our orchard. There was a small shack there that we used for fermenting. I had a set of keys, and I knew it was empty as we were preparing to begin harvesting within the week.

With shaking hands, I managed to unlock the double door and threw myself within. I dragged the heavy doors shut and pushed a shovel through the handles as a barricade.

Gasping and shuddering, I backed into the dim interior. I scrambled about searching for a lantern. When I found it, I held it close and tried to calm my breath.

I could hear nothing over my pounding heart until the doors shifted and thudded. I swallowed a yelp of terror and squeezed my body between a fruit press and a wooden tub.

"Kay!"

"Papa!" I burst into tears, weak with relief to hear my father's dear voice.

"It's all right, love," he assured me. "It's safe to come out."

Sobbing, I crawled across the floor to the doors and worked the shovel free. Papa lifted me into his arms and moved swiftly back toward the house. I didn't know why he was calling so urgently for a physic until a dull, throbbing pain stole my attention. I blinked dumbly at the scarlet fluid that seeped out of my severed flesh.

"Papa?" I whispered.

"Hush, love, be calm now. Let us take care of you."

I had no choice in the matter, as my thoughts tumbled into oblivion overshadowed by pain.

When I woke, Papa hovered on one side of my bed while the physic and nurse worked over me from the other. I was numb and felt warm and languid.

"Papa?"

"Quiet, Kay-love," he urged gently. "You've had a terrible shock. Just rest now, my dear."

I drifted in and out of awareness and could mark no passage of time. Hot broths, cool clothes, and fragrant teas were all I knew until the day my eyes fluttered open and fell upon Lady Dru, singing softly while she bathed my legs.

"My Lady?"

"Ah, Kayla dear," she smiled at me. She dipped her cloth in a bowl and squeezed it before she applied it to my skin again. "How do you feel?"

"Numb," I answered after taking a moment to think it over.

Lady Dru nodded. "That would follow, considering. Do you remember anything?"

My thoughts felt weighed moving in sluggish swirls until one thing became clear.

My mother's face, twisted with rage and the flash of a blade.

I bolted upright, screaming, and scrambled away from the terrifying vision. Presently, my father's voice penetrated the haze, and I froze.

He held me from behind, my wrists pressed against my chest. I dragged air into my lungs and swallowed.

"Makayla, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Papa," I rasped, my throat achy and raw.

"You're safe," he said in my ear, his voice low, urgent, and calming. "You are safe. I'm here, and you are safe. Do you hear me, Makayla?"

I nodded, and he moved away. Gentle hands adjusted my body until I lay on my back, propped on fluffy pillows. Lady Dru handed Papa a mug and he sat beside me.

"Now, Kay-love, you've suffered a terrible shock," he spoke softly, holding my eyes. "You've been injured, and Lady Dru was kind enough to invite us to Hyki Manor so you could have the best care."

"Papa, what happened?"

My father moved closer to me and tucked a few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"Your mother is very ill, my love," he explained. "Unfortunately, there was nothing we could do to help her. When I came home and realized what she'd done..." he paused, pressing his lips together and I saw his light gray eyes darken. "I went after her. She tried to convince me you attacked her. Rather than face the consequences of harming you,  your mother took her own life."

A shivering sigh left me, and I wasn't sure what to feel. The woman that birthed me meant nothing to me. I hardly saw her, never spoke to her, and had no bond with her. I was closer to Lady Dru than I could ever imagine being with Armina.

"What did she do to me?" The question was a quivering whisper, and I wondered if I truly wanted to know.

Lady Dru appeared behind my father, her lovely face resolute, those vibrant blue-gray eyes steady and warm. "She tried to kill you, my dear. She slashed you rather viciously, but you escaped before she could do mortal damage. As it is, you will carry scars from the attack, but we will do all we can to minimize them.

"Makayla," Lady Dru took my hand, and I frowned at the bandages that hid my hand and my arm from sight. "I often tell my son that scars are badges of honor, worn only by those strong enough to survive the battle. This is true for you as well. You fought for your life and won, Makayla. Never forget that."

I nodded, suddenly exhausted. I barely heard them speaking before I slipped away again.

***

Lady Dru arranged for us to remain in a comfortable seaside cottage for several weeks. I was astonished to learn my mother -though, in my mind, I had called her Armina for years- had managed to score several times with the blade.

One cut went from my left elbow all the way down and around my forearm to my palm. It was presumed I got that one trying to fight her off, though I couldn't recall the details of anything other than fleeing from her. In my haste to escape, she managed to leave a shallow cut across my back from the left shoulder down to the middle of my back just short of my spine.

Another cut went from my right shoulder down across my chest and left a jagged scar over my breast that looked like a pale pink lightning bolt. Another slashed across my belly just above my navel. 

The cut that caused me the most distress, however, was the one I couldn't hide from myself or anyone else. I heard Lady Dru and Papa discussing how cruel and calculated Armina's attack upon me was, perhaps with the added purpose of disfiguring me.

Armina's blade missed the inner corner of my right eye, but sliced across the bridge of my nose, and continued over my left cheek to the lower jaw just under my left ear.

The scar drew all eyes to it, including mine. That raised flesh looked raw and angry to me, and I couldn't bear to gaze upon my face. Lady Dru would not allow me to hide from myself. She stood behind me and kept one of those gentle hands firmly anchored in my hair. Even closing my eyes was no escape. Her Grace's patience was admirable, even though it vexed me more each time she waited me out.

"See your scars," she ordered me quietly. "Own your pain. Claim your power. Anyone who sees this will know that you fought and won, Makayla. Warriors are not ashamed of winning battles. Wear the evidence of your survival with the honor you are due."

After a month, she didn't have to hold me still. I stared at that ravaged line that bisected my cheek without prompting. At the end of the season, Papa and I returned home to Cheslyn. Lady Dru pressed the key to the cottage into my hand as servants loaded our luggage.

"Anytime you wish to, please do return, my dear," she insisted. "I'll keep it open and ready for you."

I nodded, with grateful tears choking off any words I might have uttered. Papa warmly embraced the Domai and ushered me into our carriage.

During the journey home, we discussed the need for me to take a greater hand in the Barony. I was now Lady Dyxn, a role that had been essentially vacant for years. Armina never cared to lift a finger to assist Papa. She demanded the title but refused to fulfill the duties attached to it.

Once home, I found Papa had arranged to move me into the Master wing of our manor. Armina refused to have me there, but Papa made it known I was now his equal and mistress of the house. It seemed the staff was pleased, for I was never without assistance. The housekeeper, Mrs. Cox, and Kensi the Steward were the most helpful in getting me up to speed on running the household and the barony.

I continued to correspond with Lady Dru and my duties kept me thoroughly engaged. When Papa proposed a ball for my debut in my eighteenth year, I rejected the notion at once. The ordeal with Armina kickstarted my Gift early. Gifts normally fully manifested in the twenty-fifth year, but mine came upon me while I recovered in the seaside cottage. 

I had no interest in surrounding myself with people I hardly knew.  I was only just becoming acclimated to household staff. It was common for me to end my day with a handful of calming herbs in a glass of strong spirits. 

"I haven't time, Papa," I told him, sorting mail.

He plucked the envelopes from my hands and held my eyes.

"I insist, and Lady Dru will assist you."

"I'd rather not impose on her, Papa."

"No need, Kay-love. She'll be here tomorrow for brunch."

I groaned but knew I had no say in the matter. My mood improved slightly, as I recalled Lady Dru's many references to her son, Prince Rafal. He was a few years younger, but took his studies quite seriously, according to his mother.

Perhaps, if he joined her, I would have at least one other person at the ball that didn't vex me. That would give me three people to talk to for the night. She had been so helpful with my Gift, and she was the only woman I could speak to that didn't leave me with a headache or a sour stomach.

Truly, the level of judgment, envy, and downright nasty backstabbing that went on between my female peers was enough to make a girl swear off leaving the house forever. 

Sadly, His Lordship was away at his father's estates when Lady Dru arrived. Despite my misgivings, I did enjoy the planning far more than I expected. I took notes at Her Grace's urging, for future needs.

"After all, my dear, you'll be throwing a few gatherings of your own soon," she pointed out.

I drew intrigued looks at the lacy veil that covered the lower half of my face.  At Lady Dru's insistence, I wore my ash blonde hair up with soft curls falling about my face. The demure, silver gown I wore bared the curve of my shoulders but concealed my throat and cleavage. The long, trumpet sleeves fell gracefully to my wrists and the matching gloves glittered with tiny diamonds.  I had never worn anything so extravagant and shuddered to think of the cost of the elegant frock I would probably never wear again. 

My debut ball doubled as my eighteenth birthday party. In other circumstances, my mother would be by my side keeping watch on any young men who approached and requested a dance. Lady Dru filled that role far better than Armina would have, I had no doubt. Just into the second hour, I was weary of the entire business and ready to dismiss everyone so I could have a quiet brandy on the deck overlooking the harbor. Keeping the buffer between myself and all these vapid people was wearing me to a sliver.

Lady Dru encouraged me to continue, however, through the long dinner and more dancing, until, well after midnight, I bid my final guest goodbye.

"Good heavens," I muttered. I kicked out of the heeled slippers that had numbed my feet hours ago. My poor tortured toes didn't throb nearly as much as my head. "I'll never do that again."

Lady Dru laughed, watching me scoop up the offending footwear. She linked an arm through mine, and we strolled through the manor to the deck.

Thankfully, Papa was already there pouring brandy for all of us. With a grateful sigh, I settled on a lounger and took a healthy swallow of the smooth liquor.

"I believe your first ball was a smashing success, my dear," Lady Dru pronounced. "I daresay you'll be a most sought-after hostess for seasons to come."

I scoffed. "They'll be disappointed," I declared. "I have too much to do to bother with such frivolous frippery. And deflecting those horrid auras? Absolutely not."

"Now, Kay-love," Papa smiled. "As Dame, it is within your duties to host your people and peers regularly."

I groaned and Lady Dru laughed, patting my shoulder in sympathy. "You can use these events for whatever purpose suits you."

I sipped my brandy and considered the Domai's words. I slowly smiled and Papa chuckled. I was certain I was wearing what he called my Naughty Imp Expression.

"Within reason, Kayla!" Lady Dru laughed, and I arched an imperious brow.

We finished our brandy and retired for the night. The Domai departed the next afternoon with promises to visit again soon.

I resigned myself to expanding my duties to hosting events. As Lady Dru suggested, I strategically planned my balls and made a point of inviting a core of useful attendees.

Eventually, I turned over the greater portion of planning to my staff and turned my attention to completing my studies. I was needed at home, and I was still working on controlling my Gift, so I applied and was accepted as a remote student.

I immersed myself in my courses and soon began corresponding regularly with my professors. Once I completed all the basic courses, I advanced to in-depth courses under Master Ambrose.

The wit and insight of Master Ambrose thrilled me. I was enthralled by his recorded lectures, sent to me by courier within hours of completion. He was an imposing figure, tall and wiry with long dark red hair. Behind his spectacles, his blue-gray eyes shifted color as he spoke with true passion and humor.

I devoured the handwritten notes Ambrose sent along with my assignments and began to respond. To my surprise, he answered me, and his charm enchanted me. We began writing back and forth almost daily. He often left me laughing and pensive. I felt closer to him than anyone I had ever known. When he asked if I might link him, or even send an image I was physically ill with anxiety.

It was not unexpected for him to ask for an image of me. I had videos of him, after all, and he sent me pictures of his boat.

I was cautious, however. Would he reject me the moment he saw the scar that prominently marred half my face? I didn't have the courage to find out and told him I was not comfortable revealing myself so, even with the veils I wore when I had to appear publicly. I was distracted and on edge until his response came, accepting my position without question.

I devoured the rest of his letter, pleased to see nothing appeared to have changed between us.

My last visit from Lady Dru came just before my thirtieth birthday. Lady Dru helped me plan my birthday ball each year and attended by my side. She deplored my continued lack of amorous activities. I certainly considered myself far from attractive, with the scars, my height -I stood eye to eye with most men of my acquaintance- and my lush figure. My Gift didn't endear anyone who attempted to gain my favor.  I resigned myself to spinsterhood cheerfully. 

I toyed with a handful of people out of curiosity. I managed to indulge in marginal exploration without revealing my scars. I discovered a concoction of herbs that would dull my Gift enough to allow me to engage in quick dalliances. I joined a rather risqué club in Karami that catered to an assortment of pleasures and amused myself there whenever I was in town. No one kept my interest, and I found it simpler to pleasure myself on the rare occasions that called for it. 

Indeed, the only person that stirred me even slightly was Master Ambrose, and the thought of revealing myself to him made me simultaneously breathless with excitement and break out in a cold sweat. Yes, he was erudite and academic and would be expected to look beyond my physical form. I did not trust expectations. I couldn't.

The one time I logged in to watch a live broadcast of one of his lectures, I scarcely recall the lesson. I was mesmerized. Ambrose was magnificent, and I cursed my lack of courage. 

Dru, as I had finally come to call her, was thin and pale when she arrived. Alarmed, I made her comfortable and prepared a banquet of medicines and teas to restore her vitality. Within a few hours, she was almost back to normal and we went about our final checks for the ball.

"You should reach out to Rafal, Kayla," she told me, not for the first time. "He agrees with you on the futility of balls and such, but he would enjoy your company."

Dru spent much of our time extolling the virtues of her only son, as a proud mother will. She never pushed hard but she did push. I believe she genuinely believed Prince Rafal would be interested in me, but I did not share her opinion. My heart was firmly fixed on Master Ambrose, after all. His most recent letter sat burning in my pocket, having arrived in the post the same day that Dru did, but my concern for her took precedence.

Now, I was aching to read my lord's words and itching to compose my response.

"I have no reason to bother the Prince, Dru," I laughed lightly. "I'm sure he's fully occupied anyway."

Dru arched a brow, and for the first time, I noticed the hints of silver in the dark red strands.

"Rafal is a scholarly gentleman, Kayla," she retorted with a quirk of her lips. "Indeed, I fear he is too gentlemanly at times."

I laughed again and side-stepped the matter, focusing on the final preparations.  My birthday ball was another success and Dru left the next day after brunch.

Within a matter of weeks, I received the horrible news that my dear friend was dead. Papa and I immediately traveled to Hyki City to attend her memorial. My heart sat heavily when we arrived at the same cottage Dru gave me the key to so many years ago.

The day of the memorial dawned gray and chill, and Prince Rafal forlornly paced at the front of the procession to the crypt, carrying the urn that held his mother's ashes close.

He kept his head bowed, and his hair and face obscured by the hood of his coat until we reached the crypt. My eyes widened and I gasped as my adored Master Ambrose stepped up to place the urn within the proper niche.

My breath caught short as the man that appeared in all my erotic dreams turned away from the Fanche crypt. The line was moving forward and I realized I would have to speak to him.

My nightmare was coming true. I was going to face Ambrose, unprepared and out of sorts, and he was going to reject me.

Papa had no idea why I was so distraught, putting it down to my grief, and the proximity of so many people I'm sure. My breath was coming so fast and sharp that my simple black veil fluttered. Far too soon, Papa stepped in front of the new Domai of Hyki and offered his condolences, shaking his hand.

"My daughter, Dame Dyxn, Your Grace," Papa introduced.

"My Lady," Prince Rafal nodded to me, his dear blue-gray eyes dull and distant.

"Your Grace," I murmured, held fast by those eyes. His gloved hand enclosed mine and the heat of his touch seeped into me. The chill of his grief struck me and I instinctively surrounded that icy aura with warmth. "My deepest condolences," I managed to add.

"Thank you, my Lady," his whisper wrenched my heart, as I watched tears trace down his lean cheeks.

Papa escorted me away and I swallowed sobs. My sweet Ambrose was suffering so courageously.  His grief was a tangible thing and I ached for him. I wanted to hold him and leach all of that pain away from him. I resolved then that I would not hide from him any longer. I would present myself to him and accept whatever came of it.

The skies opened up soon after, and the somber air of all those gathered grew even deeper. Prince Rafal seemed to hardly notice. I watched him from afar until another man took him by the arm and lead him toward the grand manor in the distance.

The gathered mourners were served a light supper and Papa and I retreated to our cottage.

My resolve to see Rafal did not falter, and the next day I approached the manor with determined strides. I chose a subdued silver veil that complimented my gray eyes. My mission was thwarted, however, by the man I saw leading Rafal away in the rain.

"My apologies, Lady Dyxn, but His Grace is not in residence. He departed in the night for his boat."

I forced a smile and nodded. "I thank you, my Lord...?"

"Sir Ash, my Lady," the man bowed to me. "Is it urgent? I can contact His Grace if you need."

I declined the offer and I thanked Sir Ash again.

Resigned, I returned to the cottage and joined Papa for breakfast. We spent the day remembering Dru and the many good times we shared with her, while I fretted over my failure to contact Rafal. The chill I pulled from him sat heavily within me. I knew better than to hold onto it. I needed to purge the foreign emotions before they did me damage, but I wanted to keep something of Ambrose. 

Papa did not press me for reasons when I suggested we return home the next morning. I was not about to explain what I was planning.

Somehow, sometime, I was going to meet Rafal, my beloved Ambrose, but I had to wait. I had to be there for him in his time of need. I could only hope the bond I had with Ambrose would hold strong once Prince Rafal knew me for who I was.

I never used my full name with him, signing my letters as Kayla D. I hoped he would forgive my deception.