Farek played a careful game. He put in just enough effort as a soldier to get food, shelter, and clothing. However, he made sure not to excel at anything. It made it easier to slip from camp to camp, pushing further and further West. At his fourth camp, he dreamed about the Embodiment. At first, he thought these were dreams about his mission. Then, it took on a clarity that only came to him when he was awake. When she saw him he knew for sure that these weren't wishful scenarios. She was real.
Her silver eyes had locked onto his, a mixture of suspicion, curiosity, and something more. He felt pulled to her, and she seemed drawn to him, despite her protests. He wondered about her for many nights at that point, and now she could respond to him. All his questions cascaded out of him, pushing her further away. He thought perhaps he lost her forever. The next few nights, he dreamed of her more, mostly her looking on at some soldier with longing, no longer noticing Farek.
Last night, he dreamed of her again. He felt almost guilty watching it, not because it invaded her privacy but because he found himself aroused by a woman other than Esamne. She wrapped her delicate limbs around that soldier she favored, pressing him against her curving, naked body. He loved every inch of her heavenly body, even though she looked nothing like Esamne. His Sunray stood tall, svelte, and graceful. This woman seemed small and round everywhere. She looked as soft and inviting as a down feather bed after a long day. Not thinking she would hear him, he greeted her, but she gasped and looked into his eyes.
Before he knew it, he convinced her to kiss him, out of pity, but he would take it. Her lips felt sweeter and softer than any he'd ever touched before. He wanted more of her, but he knew she wanted that soldier instead. Still, he learned several things about the Embodiment. She was in Hicares, just as his staff predicted. He also learned she was in love, which was going to be a problem. Though Farek's staff had promised him that Esamne would fall in love with him, he found he desired the Woman of Prophecy as well. He wanted to use her to open the statue, and he also wished to have her in his bed. These were possibly two opposing issues.
The dream ended when the kiss ended. Farek last saw her surprised eyes before he opened his own. He came back to his current situation, his tenth Pescelean camp. Other soldiers surrounded him in a crowded sleeping tent. He picked up his staff, still disguised as a crude weapon, and made his way to some outlying bushes to relieve the built up lust within. The dream left him very sexually frustrated, which he hadn't felt in some months. He was over quick and cleaned himself off in a nearby stream. Sitting for a moment with his staff, he thought he would ask it a question. Asking his staff things directly rarely, if ever, got him any response. The staff spoke when it wanted to. However, he thought he would ask just in case.
"Is it possible that I can have Esamne and this woman both but still claim the Goddess Winds as my own?" he asked. A long silence spanned, and Farek sighed.
"Yesss…" it whispered back. "If the Embodiment…gives into her destiny…she will be yours…"
"And Esamne?" Farek asked, his heart thumping high in his chest.
"Will love you…" The staff answered back and fell back into silence.
When Farek returned to the camp, he felt frantic energy buzzing around. He grabbed a bowl of hot oats and asked the kitchen boy what was happening.
"An escapee from a Western camp just came in," the boy answered, ladling oats into bowls. "Says he saw who is helping the Kandumes and thinks they're coming here next."
"Really?" Farek asked, feeling giddy with excitement. "What did the person look like?"
"I'm busy," the boy said, rolling his eyes. "Go listen to him. He's been talking about it all morning."
Farek took his bowl of oats over to the excited group surrounding the bedraggled soldier. He looked dehydrated and exhausted. Char covered his clothing, and weeping blisters crawled down one leg, which he kept propped up on a log, while a physician tended to it.
"She was beautiful." He sighed, his face full of longing and terror all at once. "So scary beautiful. A small woman, but she shone like silver all over. She was so high up in the sky that it almost seemed like she was part of the storm. Then I saw it. From her arm, blasts of lightning started barreling down. You should have heard the mages scream. I was just supposed to be watching from the peak like they asked me, but the flames licked so high from the trees she scorched that even I got hurt. I don't know if any Pescel man made it out of their 'cept for me."
Farek could barely contain himself. The soldier just described the Woman of Prophecy and the woman of his dreams. She was on her way here, to him. He would get to watch her wrath for himself. He thought of her soft curving breasts and hips, then he thought of the power of a storm coursing through her body. That was enough power to bring down a camp on her own.
He decided to plan right away. The soldier likely got hurt from that distance because he tried to hide in the brush. Farek thought it would probably be safer to hide somewhere closer to where she attacked since she would direct her storm at a battle in the distance.
There was no telling how fast the Kandumes traveled. So, Farek scouted his camp, seeing it from the eyes of an enemy. If he had a powerful weapon, where would he put it to keep it safe from battle? Hills and mountains made up most of Hicares. Whoever plotted out Farek's current camp cursed it with crags good for ambushing their location. However, if she wanted to get a decent look at the action below, a certain peak to the North of the base worked perfectly. A small cave tucked itself away close to that peak, and Farek claimed it as his hiding spot.
Wasting no time, he gathered his few belongings and made his way out, careful to escape unseen. He did this so many times in the past that he didn't even feel a moment of anxiety. The excitement over the new soldier helped him to slip out easily. The little cave that he spotted was much more comfortable than the last one he made his temporary home. He rolled out his cot, arranging his rations and water beside it.
He sat and watched the hubbub in the camp below. He hoped that no one would make the same connections he did about where the woman would likely position herself, but his time in ten camps taught him that Pescel overpaid their military leaders. They decided where to put their bases with only proximity to resources on their mind. They relied entirely on the magical barriers to keep them safe. This camp, in particular, couldn't have been placed in a worse spot.
The day dragged by as he waited for the Kandumes to show up. The next day was the same. Farek's body became stiff and sore from lying around his cave. He dreamed about her in that cave. He saw her getting new leather armor, and it accentuated her body, lending it power. He watched her swing a short sword around with the soldier she seemed to adore. He watched in awe as she channeled lightning through the blade. He saw her smile when she brought the mountainous Kandumes soldier to his knees. He loved that smile, the victory behind it. She was a woman, but she wanted to win just like he did. She told him that she could be ruthless when she needed to be. The scars on her left cheek stood as evidence that she could kill and move on. So could Farek.
With these thoughts floating in his mind, he fell asleep, gazing at the campfires below. Within what seemed a brief moment, he woke up to the call of horns below. He rose to see it was pitch black out, but the Pescelean soldiers stirred. Kandumes soldiers swarmed around the magical barrier.
"The Storm Caller is coming!" he heard a soldier scream from the camp below, causing the rest of the groggy soldiers to rise.
They were here! He looked at the peak and saw the Embodiment there with an old woman by her side. They stood closer than he imagined when he first spotted the rise, so he needed to sink back further into his cave.
"So, you're telling me," the old woman said to the Embodiment, "that with all your flirting and sparring, he hasn't taken your offer yet?"
"Well, no, not really," the dream woman replied. "He's touched me in amazing ways, but he won't…enter me."
"Well, that's not so bad." The old lady chuckled a bit.
"It's bad when that's all your body wants," the dream woman replied and stifled a sob. "Besides, ever since that night on the cliff, he won't even come near me anymore. He's become so distant."
"He'll come around," her companion soothed.
The dream woman shook her head and said, "I've been having these dreams."
"Dreams? About Daijah?"
"No," the dream woman replied, her voice becoming a distant whisper, "dreams about a man with moonlit hair and crystal eyes. He scares me, but something makes me want to touch him, feel him. I woke up from dreaming about kissing him the other morning, shaking like a leaf."
"Next time, share those dreams with me," the old woman chuckled, and then her face became serious. "I just saw the signal below. They're all in position."
"Cefa, this doesn't seem right. We've barely prepared for this. I'm not used to fighting with the Duke's men.”
Farek saved the old woman’s name in his mind. This was obviously someone of importance to the woman of prophecy and her healer’s staff meant she must also be powerful.
"In war, it's good to shake things up sometimes," Cefa replied.
“What was the point in not sending Rhin with us this time, though?” the woman asked. “Does the Duke really need one more man fighting with them?”
“I stopped trying to understand that pompous general a long time ago,” Cefa answered. “Besides, you’re a better fighter than Rhin any day.”
The woman shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”
Cefa nodded. “Eya, it’s time.”
After a heavy sigh, the woman levitated slightly, her eyes turning silver. She threw her hands up to the skies. As the storm clouds gathered above the camp, Farek watched on and put the puzzle pieces together. Was she Little Eya? He had heard many Hicarean soldiers singing about her before his men slaughtered them all. The Hicaron princess grew up, it seemed. Why did he keep falling for princesses whose fathers he killed?
A sudden blast of lightning slammed into the dome below, but the Kandumes still couldn't enter. During Farek's time in the cave, it seemed the mages built another dome within it. From behind the many crags surrounding the camp, mages appeared, ready to rain down magical energy on the Kandumes below. Farek heard Eya's panicked breathing beside him.
"Breathe, my dear girl," Cefa told her. "You don't want to lose control like last time. Let's bring down that next barrier, and then I can start my healing spell."
Another solid blast of lightning streaked through the sky, popping the last magical barrier like a bubble. The Kandumes flooded into the camp while the crone etched one of the most intricate healing spells that Farek ever witnessed. Eya targeted the mages in the outlying crags, but the rocks protected them.
"Pecu!" she hissed. "I can't see a damned thing!"
"It's okay," Cefa said, continuing to etch her spell into the ground below. "The barriers are down, and more troops are coming in. I can keep healing until the sun rises, and then you can spot those mages."
Farek knew that there were more mages around than the women knew. He wasn't sure how long they could keep it up on their own, but he wasn't about to see his hard work go to waste. Slowly, he crept out of his cave and through the mountainous terrain, seeking out all the hidden spots he noticed when scouting, but dismissed in favor of the cave he claimed.
As the battle raged below, Farek heard the familiar squealing cry of pain drift up from the victims of magical attacks. He remembered the first time he witnessed it, the smile it brought to his face. Here was a weapon that took out enemies permanently, destroying their spirits along with their bodies. Not only that, but it struck horror into the hearts of those around them. He spent many weeks perfecting the attack himself. He found a way to hold the energy in his hand and push it directly into a person. These mages flung it around blindly, with no finesse at all. They could even be hurting their own allies like this.
Just as quick as men fell, they were back up again, the energy returning into the wands only for the wages to whip them out again. He found an opening at the base of a small cliff. It didn’t surprise him at all to see a mage hiding there, casting attacks at the chaotic mess of soldiers below. In silence, he created a ball of the same energy in his hand and snuck up next to the mage. With one quick motion, Farek placed his hand over the mage's face, forcing the energy into eyes, nose, and mouth. The mage couldn't even scream. He died within seconds, his face oozing toxicity onto the rocky ground below.
Farek crouched down and moved again, tracking the change in battle. A new set of troops came in from the West as well as more from the North. For the moment, he had to jump into a divot between outcrops of rocks. The ground below him shook with the thundering hooves of Kandumes running down the mountainside all around him. They screamed and ululated. These were bloodthirsty men, and Farek knew then he had been working with the wrong country since the start. Farek resumed creeping once both Kandumes troops rushed into the camp below but stopped when something caught the corner of his eye. There was a mage in the distance, forming a large ball of energy and aiming it at Princess Eyanisade.
Leaping up, Farek threw his own ball of energy as far in that direction as he possibly could. It didn't make it to the mage, but it brought the princess's attention to the attack heading her way. Her swift reflexes saved her, and now the mage was wide open. A direct bolt of lightning struck the man, causing him to fall off his peak straight down into the men below. Farek watched it all happen in awe. He looked up to see her, beautifully glowing in silvery wrath. There was nothing left of the soft, inviting woman he'd seen in his dreams. She was the storm now. Farek couldn't wait to harness her power.
"Come down, dear girl!" Cefa called out to Eya. "I can't stop my healing spell. There are too many mages!"
Eya looked to the East and saw him, the man from her dreams.
He hurled magical energy at the mage who intended to kill her. He was real, and he was looking right back at her. Just as soon as she saw him, he ran away from sight. He said he was a soldier. Did this mean their kiss had been real?
Breathing in and out, she lowered herself to the ground. The battle below was bloody. She tried not to think about it, grateful that she had some distance between her position and the battle this time. The light poured over the horizon, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She could begin targeting the mages now. She took on a laser-like focus, spotting where magical energy was coming from and blasting at its origin. Unfortunately, more often than not, it seemed that the energy was coming from the shadows instead of mages.
"Cefa, they're hiding!" Eya cried out. "I can't get them all like this!"
"It's all right," Cefa replied, not looking like anything was fine at all. "I can keep this up as long as it takes."
Eya took a look at her exhausted friend and knew she was lying. Despite what the Duke had told them during strategy, it wasn't that easy to sleep the day prior to battle. They had all tossed and turned, unable to rest at all, only becoming tired when they reached this newest Pescelean encampment. Striking from a distance wasn't going to do the trick anymore.
"I'll be back," Eya said before she could hear one argument against it.
She ran through the woods, hiding whenever possible, looking for the locations of the magical attacks. She felt grateful all over again for the new armor Daijah requisitioned for her. It was mostly her old leathers, just tailored in a way that allowed her to move and breathe without pain. With the silent sprint she learned in training with Daijah during the Winter, she flitted into a shadow from which she had seen magical energy spewing.
A mage stood there, utterly shocked at her sudden appearance. Before he could form another attack, Eya plunged her sword hilt deep into his abdomen, twisting it around with a grunt. Blood gurgled around the foot she used to push his corpse off her short sword.
"You're amazing," she heard behind her.
She whipped around, her blade held up in defense. To her shock, she saw the man from her dreams, standing there with his hands in the air.
"I surrender to you," he said, getting on his knees, a wicked smile on his face. "By Pecu, you are stunning when you kill a man."
"Surrender to the soldiers," Eya sneered. "Not to me."
"I'm not going down there," the man replied with a chuckle.
"Are you a coward?"
"No, I'm just on the wrong side of all this," he answered. "I've been trying to leave for some time. I don't like what they did to the Hicareans here."
"What did they do to the Hicareans?" Eya asked, forgetting the battle momentarily.
"You don't want to know," he said, unable to look her in the eyes. "Let's just say, when I heard the Kandumes were coming to reclaim this country for the Hicaron princes, I decided to see what I could do to help."
"Is that why you tried to defend me against that mage's attack?"
"No," he said, shaking his head, "I did that because you're the woman I'm falling in love with in my dreams."
"Keep dreaming," Eya said, rolling her eyes, but still feeling a pang of guilt that she betrayed Daijah with that kiss that turned out to be real.
"Let me help you. I know where a lot of these mages are hiding. We can tackle them together."
"Why, because you've decided you love me?" Eya asked with a bitter chuckle.
"That and the men below," the man answered. "They are being brought close to death from the attacks and then brought back to full health in an instant. Have you felt a magical attack? They can only survive that pain for so long."
Eya took a step forward, brushing the tip of her short sword against the man’s throat. “How do I know you won’t rescue the mages instead?”
“And risk you burning me to a crisp the next time we bump into each other during a dream?” the man asked, wincing as her blade caused a bead of blood to bloom from his delicate skin. “You’re running on limited time.”
Eya saw his point and nodded. He gave her the positions of several more noticeable mages while he took on the better-hidden spots he knew well already. It wasn't long before Eya lost sight of him. It didn't matter, though, because there were many more mages than she thought at first. Even with the man from her dreams helping her, climbing all over the mountain crags and taking down the mages took most of the day. The sun was already on the verge of setting when she got to the last of them, and the magical attacks finished. If there were any mages left alive, they fled by now.
Panting from exhaustion, Eya wondered how Cefa was holding up. She made her way back to where she had left the healer. She tried to ignore the battle still raging below. Her brothers were down there. Daijah was down there. Whether they were dead or alive remained to be seen. When she finally made it back, she found Cefa lying on her side, breathing labored.
"Cefa!" Eya called out, flying toward the crone. "Are you all right?"
"I'm just tired," she croaked out. "It's been a long day. I need some water."
Eya pulled the flask from her hip and offered it to her friend.
Cefa drank from it in long, deep gulps. Slowly, she sat up and cried.
"Cefa, I'm so sorry," Eya said. "I tried to get them all as fast as I could."
"I was so worried about you," Cefa sobbed. "Out there alone with those mages wanting to burn your spirit away."
"I'm okay," Eya soothed. "I was too quick for them. I'm sorry I put you through that, though."
"I know. You did the right thing. I failed."
"What do you mean?" Eya asked, panic in her eyes.
"I lasted as long as I could," Cefa answered. "I just couldn't keep up. It must have been noon when I passed out."
Eya threw her arms around her friend to comfort her. This battle would have the worst casualties yet. Eya took Cefa's cloak off and bundled it into a makeshift pillow, resting the old woman down. Eya stood up and looked into the battle now. The Kandumes and Pesceleans seemed to be in equal numbers, which worked well for the Kandumes, who were superior soldiers. Still, Eya wanted to give them another advantage.
Reaching into her pack, she pulled out her bow and arrow. It had been too long since she got to use it. Since she hadn't figured out how to channel the storm through her arrows yet, Daijah focused on training her with the short sword. Still, nothing beat the calm she felt when aiming that tip and pulling that bowstring. After a day scaling mountainsides to kill mages, never taking a moment to process the lives she ended, she could use every bit of calm her bow had to offer her. From up high, she could take out the enemies from afar, without lighting anything on fire and hurting her allies. With focus and precision, she let her arrows fly, taking down one after another until she ran out of arrows.
By the time the battle ended, the moon was kissing the horizon. A Kandum flag flew high. Eya wanted to run down and find out who was alive and dead, but she couldn't leave Cefa there so weak and defenseless. After a long wait, she saw the familiar black eyes of the man she loved, coming to get them. Ash and blood covered him from head to toe, with tear tracks marking paths on his face. He looked defeated. He saw Eya and sobbed a little as if he didn't know if she would be there alive.
Daijah ran to her then, picked her up, and swung her around. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, he looked at her with frightened eyes and put her down before taking a step back. Eya tried not to feel stung. They sat next to Cefa, who slept soundly.
"After this battle, I wasn't sure I would find you alive," Daijah wept. "So many have died, Eya. The screams."
"It was awful," she agreed. "She couldn't keep up."
"Were you the archer?" he asked, and Eya nodded. "You saved my life."
"She does that," Cefa's sleepy voice called over Daijah's shoulder. "Can you take me to the wounded now?"
"I can take you down," Daijah answered. "But I don't know if you have the energy to heal anyone right now."
"Probably not." She sighed. "Still, I'd rather not risk any lives so I can get some rest."
"They can wait until the morning," Daijah insisted.
"Not with the number of attacks those mages were slinging," Cefa said, locking eyes with Daijah.
Daijah took a deep inhale and let her climb onto his back. Eya could tell something was troubling him, and she was afraid to ask what. He hadn't updated her on her brothers yet. The climb down to the camp was gruesome. The incline wasn't so bad, but as they came closer, the stench of dead and dying bodies overwhelmed them.
Once there, Eya had to watch her step to keep from walking into someone. Daijah continued to carry Cefa on his back, even though they were on flatter terrain. The Kandumes set up a healing tent just South of the battle instead of taking over a Pescelean like they usually did. Eya could understand why. No one would want to stay surrounded by this gore and tragedy. The dead were so thick that she wondered if they had enough troops left to continue marching through Hicares.
Just outside the tent, she saw her brothers talking somberly. She ran to them, tears of relief streaming down her face. She planted a kiss on all of them. They each took a turn at squeezing her closely. Eya noticed then that they all were crying, but she couldn't figure out why. She was safe, they were safe, and Daijah was safe. Only one face couldn’t be seen.
"Where's Rhin?" she asked and then ran into the healing tent as soon as their eyes looked toward it.
Rhin was lying on a cot. The only way Eya was able to recognize him was from the merchant clothes he wore even into battle. Purple welts covered his face and half his torso. A terrible, unnatural smell emanated from him. A raspy, screeching noise came from his throat, only comforting Eya in that it meant he was alive and able to breathe. A Kandumes soldier lifted him and poured some cooled ulah tea into his mouth. Eya watched Rhin grow quiet, if not peaceful, as they lowered him down onto his cot. The ulah tea took hold of him fast.
"Cefa can heal him," Eya whispered to her brothers.
"I'm sure she can, Eya," Simrin said, nodding. "She healed him three times already today, him and others."
Eya choked on her sob. She imagined having this agony cast into and out of her three times. She remembered what the man from her dreams said. After a while, there's no reversing that, and the spirit is gone. Rhin might be slowly dying right in front of her. She found a chair and sat next to him.
"Eya, I think—“ Parvon began, trying to guide her out of the tent.
"Do you know what this man went through to get me to you?" she asked, her eyes shining with ferocity. "What he goes through now to prove his loyalty as my friend? I'm staying here, either until he's better or he's gone."
Her brothers backed away, knowing there would be no arguing against her on this. Cefa stood in the middle of the densely packed healing tent. Daijah managed to make just enough room for her to etch her healing spell. For what had to be the thousandth time that day, she drew her spell, her aging limbs trembling from exhaustion. Daijah stood nearby in case her body gave out. It was a good thing because she declined to the ground as soon as she finished drawing her complicated symbols. He picked up the healer, taking her to her own cot. All around them, the purple energy sailed away like ribbons, back to their wands. Eya hadn't collected one wand in her haste to take down as many mages as she could. She knew the Duke would expect his men to collect every last one tomorrow.
Rhin slept next to her, the welts on his face losing their angry color but still noticeable. Eya's brothers bid her goodnight and walked to their tents, which soldiers set up for them. Daijah went about tending to the wounds of those hurt by non-magical means. Eya closed her eyes and fell asleep.
"Eya, s'that you?" a slurring voice woke her.
She lifted her head, which found its way onto Rhin's cot along with the rest of her body, to see him look at her through swollen eyes. He looked awful but still so much better than he had when she first saw him.
"Rhin," Eya sobbed, throwing an arm around him, causing him to wince, before she pulled it back. "I'm sorry. I was just so excited to see you awake and talking."
"Didju sleep eer?" Rhin asked, slurring through swollen lips.
"Yes," Eya nodded. "I didn't want you to be alone."
"Snice," he said and tried to smile but winced instead.
"Do you want some water?" she asked him, and he nodded.
Eya offered him a sip from her flask. At that moment, she spotted Daijah fast asleep on the ground, next to one of the injured. He must have worked all night and didn't have the strength or will to find his tent. After tending to Rhin and making sure he felt alright, she woke Daijah up.
"Let's get you to your tent," she whispered to him.
He gave a sluggish nod and rose to his feet. The two walked out of the tent together, searching for wherever the soldiers set Daijah's tent up during the night. However, they wouldn't be so lucky as the Duke spotted them right away and nearly charged toward them like a bull.
"My tent now!" he growled, motioning for them to follow, which they did reluctantly.
The day passed in the Duke's tent, with no hope of rest. Daijah and Eya mostly watched on helplessly as the Hicaron brothers and the Duke argued about who was to blame for the disaster that had been the previous night's battle. The Duke blamed the princes for not coming in soon enough and Eya for not sticking to the plan. The Hicaron brothers blamed the Duke for not allowing them to practice their maneuvers at night and acclimate their bodies to the new sleep schedule.
At one point, Daijah fell asleep, and Eya had to elbow him before he got caught by his father. As a new night fell, the brothers and the Duke still felt contentious.
"Father," Daijah said, "we have been back and forth on this all day. I need to check on my patients, which includes your friend Rhin. I also need to sleep."
Daijah got up, offering his hand to Eya, who took it happily. He made his way back to the healing tent, and Eya continued her search for her own tent. From around a long dark shadow, she heard her name whispered.
At first, she thought she imagined it, but then she heard it again. She turned toward the shadow and could just make out pale, moonlit hair. It was the man from her dream. She ducked into the shadow to join him.
"What are you doing here?" Eya whispered to him, uncomfortably close to his lanky frame. He wasn't as tall as Daijah, but he still made her feel tiny in comparison. There was still this strange push and pull energy between them as well.
"I needed to make sure you were alright," he answered. "I lost track of you."
"I'm fine. Now, run before anyone sees you!"
"You don't want to take me as a prisoner?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"I can do that if you'd like," she responded, testily and he chuckled at her.
"We have to talk about that kiss first," he said, pulling closer to her. "I thought it was just a dream, too good to be true, but it was real."
"It was a peck." Eya huffed. "And, besides, I told you that I love someone else."
"That big soldier that just walked away from you? If I just survived something like this and you loved me, we would be alone somewhere celebrating."
"Look around you," Eya hissed back. "There's not much to celebrate."
"I disagree," the man said. "You won. You live for another day. You are beautiful beyond belief. If you loved me, you'd be feeling nothing but joy right now. I would have you on the ground gasping in delight."
"Oh, I'm sure you would." Eya rolled her eyes, but her body tingled with the thought anyway. "Whatever happened to the only girl you ever loved?"
"What can I say?" He shrugged. "Am I supposed to ignore that I dreamed of kissing a beautiful woman and then met her in real life? Should I deny this draw I feel towards you?"
"I don't even know your name," was all Eya could say in response, trying not to think about the very physical sensations that she knew she shouldn't be feeling toward the Pescelean soldier.
"Please, call me Mal, Princess Eyanisade," he answered, giving her one of the most common Pescelean names, one that had been his nickname back in his thieving days.
"So, you figured out who I am," she said, crossing her arms.
"It was pretty easy.
"I still know dangerously too little about you," she said, shaking her head. "So, truly, if you don't run now, I really will have to turn you in."
"I understand," he said. "Take me straight to the Duke if you need to. I believe I have helpful information for him anyway."