Winter turned to spring, and I was starting to feel more like the castle was becoming home.

During the daytimes there was plenty to keep me occupied, and the tasks were varied and enjoyable. I often went on errands to the local market, which enabled me to get to know some of the residents of Garrow, the nearest town. I frequently delivered messages, either to the town or to the surrounding villages.

Nutmeg was an excellent horse for such tasks, and we bonded quickly over apples and petting. I also rode him for pleasure, usually on my own but occasionally with Richard if he requested my company.

Every day there was equipment or boots to clean, and I accepted Richard's offer of continuing to learn sword and fencing skills with him, and we practiced when we could. I also continued learning how to read and write.

I made sure I spared some time to practice the flute, which I enjoyed playing, even if I was the only one who heard it. I tried to replicate some of the songs I had heard being played by the buskers in Garrow. Some were slow and sad, some were faster folk songs, traditionally for a fiddle, but I adapted them for my instrument.

I made various friends and acquaintances around the castle. There were two other young men that frequently dealt with caring for the horses, Aaron and Paul, who were both of a similar age to me. The kitchen staff learned I had a good appetite, and one of the kitchen girls, Annabelle, seemed to have a particular affinity for me, as I did for her. We soon became good friends.

As for Richard, he had made sure I was comfortable and happy, and I had taken his offer of evening games at every opportunity. We played a variety of different games with varying strategies, including Surakarta, mancala, senet and various card games. He would offer me wine, but I would always decline. Concealing myself was difficult enough around him without the additional challenges that inebriation would bring. However, it was otherwise effortless to feel relaxed in his company, and therefore, other than my concerns about protecting the secret I held close, so far it had been easy to keep my oath of being honest and true when we were together.

The prince was warm and engaging, not just with me but with everyone around him. I liked him more with every passing day, and sometimes had cause to wonder whether I might be falling in love with him. I tried desperately to prevent myself tumbling further, but to no avail. My breath still hitched every time I laid eyes on him, and even more so when he smiled. But I assumed that since I had not yet been put to death, I had done a reasonable job of concealing it.

Overall, I got into a routine and was as happy as I could have been under the circumstances. I took some time at the start of spring to visit Sir Tristan and let him know that, although I missed him, things at the castle were working well, and he seemed pleased. I brought my flute in case he wanted to listen to me play the new music I had learned, and he obliged me with an audience. I passed on his best wishes to Richard at this request and said he would try to visit the castle soon.

A week or two after I returned from seeing Sir Tristan, Richard requested my company for a morning of horse riding. The air was crisp and fresh and filled with birdsong as we mounted the horses. We rode east across lush green fields strewn with daisies and buttercups and sparkling with morning dew. We galloped fast, and the wind surging through my hair made me feel like I was flying.

Richard slowed to a trot as we approached a stream. He alighted, and I followed suit. He encouraged the horses to drink, which they did happily. I knelt on the bank to splash my face in the inviting crystal-clear water, while a small group of minnows swam past unafraid. Richard looked like he was taking a walk down the river, so I sat back on the bank and enjoyed the spring sunshine.

Bees buzzed between white and pink blossoms on the nearby hedgerows and trees, and colourful butterflies flitted by, also in search of sweet nectar. A red kite soared overhead, silently searching for its next meal. Two rabbits munched lazily in a patch of dandelions, unaware of the winged danger overhead.

Richard returned with a stunning smile etched into his features.

"Come with me," he beamed, tipping his head in the direction he intended us to go in to emphasise the point. I pushed myself off the ground and followed the prince a short way along the babbling stream.

"There," he whispered on stopping suddenly. I followed the direction in which his finger pointed to a nearby willow tree.

"What am I looking at?" I asked back in a low voice, since I didn't feel I could see anything unusual.

My question answered itself, as a blue and orange streak dived from the tree and into the water, only to surface a few seconds later with a silver fish it its beak.

"A kingfisher," I murmured. "It's beautiful."

The kingfisher landed back in the tree and swallowed its lunch.

"There are a nesting pair that live in this area," Richard replied softly. "I have yet to find their nest, but they fish in this stream. An old French myth suggests that the kingfisher was the second bird sent by Noah to find land during the Biblical flood. At the time the little bird was just grey, but as it tried to avoid a storm, it flew so high it came close to the sun that its stomach feathers were burned and took on those gorgeous colours. The bird never found Noah and is bound to stay near water forever in a bid to find him again and complete its mission."

"A pretty story for a pretty bird," I responded. "It sounds like you come here often."

"As much as I can," he nodded. "It's hard to get away from duties sometimes. It is a shame we cannot stay all day."

He started walking back to the horses and I followed, and after mounting, we set off in a north-east direction, following the water upstream. The brook disappeared into a forest, and Richard tethered the horses to a tree on the outskirts so that they could have more water if they wanted.

"This way," implored Richard as he lithely bounded over three steeping stones to the opposite side of the flowing water.

I studied the stones sceptically. Richard was more agile, and apparently more practiced than me, and I was not convinced I would make it across without falling in the river. And while I would not drown in such a shallow stream, I would surely make a fool of myself when I least wanted to.

However, he wanted me to cross, so I tackled the first stone, with some success. Feeling brave, I leapt to the second, only to find that I faltered slightly when it was more slippery than I realised. I paused, not wanting to lose my footing on the third, which looked more unstable than the other two.

Seeing my obvious discomfort, Richard held his hand out to me.

"Let me help," he offered.

How typical of him to show such kindness, and how typical of me to let it dent my pride. But since the alternative was a potential drenching, I took his hand and let him help me across. Ego aside, it felt remarkable to hold his hand, and I savoured it as I knew there was unlikely to be another opportunity to do so. He let go and bade me follow him, which I did.

"Thank you," I conceded, and he smiled warmly.

"Once we get into the forest, we need to be as quiet as possible, so just follow my lead," he said, and I nodded my agreement.

We crept slowly into the forest. Birds chattered in the treetops and leaves rustled on the floor as small woodland creatures foraged for food. Rays of sunlight fell through the treetops and onto the floor in dappled patterns, revealing toadstools that grew at the base of the tall oaks and firs. I thought this might be the prettiest place I had ever been.

Richard appeared to know his objective, and when we reached a broad oak tree, he stopped and put his finger to his lips to signal I was to stay silent. We stood like that for maybe ten minutes or more, when I heard the slow footsteps of something much larger than a rabbit or a vole. I looked at Richard, who just smiled back at me.

Then, from between two birch trees, emerged a fallow deer. Russet and flecked with white specks, her ear twitched when she saw us. I thought she would run, but she held her ground, and then, much to my surprise, started walking towards us.

Richard slowly opened a pouch that he wore around his waist, and drew out a handful of corn, which he held out flat in the palm of his hand and offered to the doe. She came over immediately and started to feed from him. With his free hand, he stroked her neck. When she finished her handful, she waited patiently for another, and this time he took my wrist and put the corn in my hand.

I held out my hand as he had, and the creature nibbled and licked at the corn until it had gone. It was a most wonderful experience, to be this connected to nature through this beautiful, gentle animal. Richard and I took it in turns to silently feed her handfuls of corn, and when it had all been used, he brought a ripe green apple out from his pouch and gave it to her. She took it without hesitation and ate it in front of us as if she were not scared at all.

The two of them knew each other, that much was evident. He had come prepared, and there was too much trust on her part for this to be their first encounter. There was a genuine fondness in his eyes when he looked at her, the same look that I saw when he connected with nature in any way. He loved it out here, and I could understand why.

Seeing such a gentle and caring side to him made my heart ache, and it was in that moment that I knew for sure I was in love with him.

I knew this had been building over time. There was no single event that created it, rather a culmination of many interactions and observations that slowly engulfed me until it was too late to protect myself.

And now here I was, unprotected and vulnerable to a forbidden love, captive in a prison of my own making. I was not sure whether I should be happy or sad, or both, or neither. Or whether it just was what it was, and I should just accept it and make the best of it.

The doe wandered back into the forest once the apple had all but disappeared, and Richard led me out of the forest the same way we had entered. Soon enough we found ourselves back at the stream, and it was there that I assumed that there was no longer any need for silence.

"That was amazing," I said, as I managed to get to the other side of the stepping-stones on my own this time. "The deer seemed to know you."

"I told you I come as often as I can," he threw me one of his beautiful smiles and I savoured it. "Although I must admit, I have never brought anyone with me before."

"Never?" I asked, surprised that somehow, I had been invited to witness this very personal relationship above anybody else. That he had trusted me enough to join this ritual that they shared.

"Never," he said firmly. "And there is nobody I would rather have shared it with." I felt myself blushing at his words but tried to hide it.

"Then I am honoured," I managed. Lost for additional words, I silently untethered Nutmeg while he did the same for Shadow.

"I must get back," he said, mounting his horse. "Maybe next time we shall stay longer."

We started the return journey back along the stream as I processed what he had said. Next time? He was suggesting perhaps we do this again? I should be grateful for this attention, but how I deserved it, I was not sure.

The horses took us back to the castle grounds more swiftly than I would have liked. The morning had been perfect, but I knew it could not last forever. On arriving at the stables, Richard asked me to deal with the horses, since he did not want to be late for a lunch appointment.

"I hope to see you tonight, Sebastian," he called as he strode away. I did not get an opportunity to reply, but it was a games night, and I suspect he knew I was unlikely to refuse.