As the navy coats filled the room, Freya wanted to sink deeper into her chair. She was grateful for her blonde companion, a girl now called Lady Bronwen. Freya had to reminded herself that she was also now to introduce herself as Lady Freya.

A pair of gentleman sat down on either side of Lady Bronwen and Freya. Freya immediately tensed at the strangers proximity and the awkwardness of it all. Lady Bronwen, on the other hand, was quickly engrossed in conversation with her dinner companion, leaving Freya to fend for herself. She had been so focused on getting behind Cambria's walls, she hadn't given much thought to all that court life involved, namely meeting and conversing with potential husbands.

"Why would a girl as beautiful as you choose to sit at the smallest table, the furthest away?" the handsome stranger flattered.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't ignore him. And she doubted ignoring a member of nobility would help lengthen her stay behind Cambria's walls. Freya's nerves began to get the better of her as she stammered, "Um...I...Well, I suppose I'm here for the same reason people move to tiny villages far away."

"And why is that?" he curiously inquired, folding his arms across his navy-clad chest.

"Peace and quiet," Freya simply answered.

The stranger grinned from ear to ear, his green eyes bright, before asking, "Is that your polite way of telling me to get lost?"

Freya scrunched her nose in reflection, then said, "Sorry, that's not how I meant it. But, for curiosity's sake and possible future scenarios, would I have been successful if that was my purpose?"

The stranger seemed to think on that for a moment before responding, "With some men, perhaps. I, however, am not so easily dissuaded. Call it a matter of pride, if you will."

"Nobility will do that to a man," she quipped, hoping her observation hadn't offended him.

"How very right you are...Listen, I would love to play a game of sorts," he suggested, raking his fingers through his dark brown hair. "Would you oblige me?"

"Depends. What sort of game do you wish to play?"

"I say a word, and you say the first word that comes into your mind, and I'll do it too. In fact, I am so gentlemanly, I will let you decide who goes first."

"Hmmm...is it too late to tell you to get lost again?" Freya teased.

"Afraid so," the stranger shrugged.

"Alright...pie," she simply stated.

"Excuse me? Oh wait...we've begun the game haven't we?"

Freya smiled and nodded a confirmation, her sweet smile stealing all reasonable thought from his head. They shared a natural ease, impossible to duplicate.

"Right, pie? Hmmm...blackberry."

"Navy," she said, eyeing his crested coat.

"Pride," he replied with a knowing smirk.

Freya glanced out the tall windows, toward the sky. "Rain."

"Essential."

"Good answer," she complimented and then with a smirk said, "Betrothal year."

He thought for a few long moments before responding, "promising."

A brief silence passed between them, along with the unmistakable sparks of chemistry. A chemistry that can't be forced, it just exists, whether you want it to or not.

The stranger cleared his throat, "I believe it is my turn...hmmmm...radishes?"

"Yuck." Freya cringed at the mere thought of them.

"Really? You think radishes taste that bad?" He grabbed one of the small red offenders from off a platter, gave it a brief examination, and popped it in his mouth.

"Definitely!"

He shrugged while chewing. "Agree to disagree, hmmm...next one, friendship."

"Valuable."

"Good answer," he replied. "Let us see...umm...
mother."

Freya looked down at fidgeting hands. "Tired."

They both understood there was a lot unsaid with that one word answer, but neither wanted to ruin the playful mood by discussing it. So instead, he chose to move on.

"Wisdom."

"Rare."

"I must agree with you on that!" The stranger folded his arms again across his chest. "Horses."

"Pink."

Baffled by her answer, he further inquired, "Did you say pink?" When Freya confirmed she did indeed say 'pink', he kindly asked her to explain. After a lengthy explanation of her recent exploits involving Tybalt's blonde mare and an obscene amount of elderberries, which he listened to in mostly contemplative silence, Freya shrugged in nonchalance.

He was stunned and intrigued. She spoke about dyeing a man's horse the same as if they had been discussing the weather. This girl was very clever and he found himself unexplainably drawn to her.

"Random question for you, what is something you've always wanted to do but have never had the chance to?" he asked.

"The serious or silly answer?"

"The silly, of course! Serious is so much less fun, don't you think?" he rhetorically responded.

"Are you sure you wish to hear it? It's terribly juvenile and wasteful. Not to mention, it involves quite a lot of pies," Freya cautioned, turning in her chair to face him and clasping her hands in her lap.

He nodded emphatically, "I am officially dying of intrigue. And, anything involving a heap of pies is sure to be a good time, juvenile or not."

"Alright, so I've always wanted to have a fight using delicious food, namely pies, as my weapon. Me, Beatrix, and Zephyr, those are my closest friends..."

He interrupted, "The ones involved in the horse escapade, I assume?"

"Precisely," she confirmed, and continued her explanation. "Well, we would bake a giant number of pies, and soft desserts. You see, they must be soft if we are to throw them at one another."

He barked a laugh at her absurd idea, although he admitted it did sound fun.

"I can honestly say, I was not expecting that answer. Let me get this correct," he began, turning toward her so they now faced one another. "You want to take copious amounts of soft desserts, pick them up with your bare hands, and rather than eat these delicious items, you want to throw them at your best friends?"

"Yes." One slow nod.

They stared at one another in silence, him looking a tad bewildered, and Freya sporting a mischievous grin.

She continued, "Just to clarify, I would not be the only one doing the throwing. My friends would also be throwing them at me."

"Naturally," he teasingly replied.

Freya bit her bottom lip. "You are looking at me as if I'm insane." She felt mildly insane. This nameless man had come from out of nowhere and distracted and thrilled her simultaneously.

"Are you certain you're not?" he joked.

She playfully swatted his arm, the minimal contact making them acutely aware of each other's close proximity.

Freya let out the breath she had been holding as she slowly backed away. She needed to create some distance between them. Actually being courted, and by a man of nobility nonetheless, was not part of her plan. She would either succeed in finding her brother, in which case they would be forced the flee. Or she would be caught. And the penalty for treason was death.

Freya knew it was unfair to form any attachments. But, she hadn't anticipated the unusual situation she had found herself in. It was proving difficult to reject someone that instinct told her to keep. But, for all Freya knew, he wouldn't ask to see her again anyway. She would plan to ask Beatrix and Zephyr for advice but her friends wouldn't understand, because they didn't know her real reason for joining court.

Tomorrow she would begin her search for Jayford. Freya would be so busy, she would neither have the time nor the interest for anything else. Was there harm in enjoying this man's conversation for just one night?

"So, I will ask you the same question," Freya prompted. "And perhaps you will have a more sane answer."

"A lifelong dream that is more sane than throwing baked goods at my best friends? I highly doubt it," he sarcastically replied.

"You are very cheeky for being a virtual stranger." Freya observed, while piling fresh fruits atop her still empty plate. They had become so engrossed in conversation, neither had eaten much at all. "So...something you've always wanted to do but never had the chance?"

Following her lead, he popped a green grape into his mouth. Amidst chewing, he confessed, "I've always wanted to cook something for myself."

"Really? No offense..." Freya began.

He interrupted, "People only say 'no offense', right before they say something offensive."

Freya readily laughed at that. "In that case, prepare yourself, I'm about to offend you. It's just, your lifelong dream is...a tad...boring...as in...really boring. Sorry."

Now it was his turn to laugh, and he did so with ease. "I suppose you're right. It is rather boring, but I've never even stepped foot inside a kitchen, much less, gotten my hands dirty and actually made something. I don't know..."

Freya stared at his handsome face with new appreciation and fascination.

"...I've always loved food and flavors and spices! And the smells that bring your senses to life before you've even taken that first bite! And I find myself, with each bite, trying to figure out what they've used to prepare whatever it is I'm eating. I know...I know...it's boring," he concluded, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Not at all!" she interjected. "I mean...I admit that, to me, since I do it all the time...cooking does sound boring. But, to hear you explain why you wish to cook, it is perhaps the most fascinating thing in the world. Proof, that as people, we often take small things for granted."

"I couldn't agree more," he sighed.

"Perhaps, one day we will accomplish our silly dreams." Freya smiled sweetly, causing his heart to pause. She was truly stunning to look upon. And the person beneath, only served to enhance her beauty.

"I think it's about time I ask for your name," he began, and then teased, "I should have already, but what can I say, I'm a rather inconsiderate nobleman."

She softly smiled at his admission, protectively questioning, "But wouldn't it be fun to let our names remain a mystery?"

"I do love a good mystery but I fear not knowing my favorite stranger's name, would drive me to madness."

"But if you know my name, I'll no longer be a stranger," she observed.

"Precisely."

She conceded and introduced herself, "Lady Freya Winnow, hater of radishes, lover of pink horses, and food fight extraordinaire."

He earnestly laughed, saying, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Freya, hater of radishes, lover of pink horses, food fight extraordinaire, and the most enchanting girl in this room." He coyly glanced up to gauge her reaction to his obvious flirtation.

Freya was sure that if it were possible for her golden skin to blush, then she had to be an embarrassing shade of crimson. She tried to deflect. "You haven't met any of the other girls in this room." Freya looked around at all the girls deep in conversation with the men beside them.

"I don't need to."

A loud whistle sounded from one of the blue guards.

And without another word, he stood, kissed her hand, and quickly strode from the room, leaving Freya confused and speechless. He was gone before Freya even realized that he had neglected to introduce himself. He knew her name, but she was totally clueless as to his. The thought made her stomach sink a tad before she thought better of it.

No attachments. Find Jayford Winnow. Run far away from Cambria. She didn't need the stranger's name. What she needed was her little brother back.

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