Tryan's grandmother is a very wise woman. I can't help but notice the wisdom in everything she says. During our rabbit stew dinner, she asks me about my life. It's a good thing I had Tryan there to help me remember everything. It was hard to keep track of my life and Cecily's life. For the most part, we kept it the same, except for the names, of course. I had a brother and a sister. My father was a knight and my brother was an esquire like Tryan.

For dessert, Elise made a special apple pie from the apple tree behind the house.

"Thank you for the delicious dinner and dessert, Elise," I say, starting to clear my place.

"No, no, dearie. You go make yourself at home. Moira and I will clean up from dinner."

"Thank you again," I say, making sure to push my chair in.

"I would like to show something to you, Cecily," Granna says, making her way up the stairs. I look back at Tryan. He shrugs and motions for me to follow her. I follow her up to the room at the end of the hall. I pause in the doorway, feeling weird just walking in.

"Don't be shy. Come on in and shut the door," Granna says from where she is seated at a long table. Strewn across the table are various tools, it looks like for jewelry making.

I shut the door and she motions to a chair next to her. Granna is silent for a long time, thinking. Then she looks at me.

"May I see your necklace?" she asks.

I nod, undoing the clasp, and hand her my necklace, careful not to let my mother's wedding ring slide off. She automatically turns is over and studies the back for a few minutes.

"It is very beautiful. Do you know who made it?" Granna asks, placing the necklace on the table in front of me.

"No. It was given to me as a present. My brother said he had it made in a small shop in a little town near Tycia. I can't remember her name, though."

"Imogene," Granna says.

"That's right! Do you know her?"

"Sweetheart, I am her."

My jaw drops in surprise. Granna is the Imogene who made my necklace? But...how?

"I know who you are, Princess Elaerya."

My heart starts to race. She knows. She knows who I am! How could she know? What do I do now that someone knows my real identity?

"Don't worry. I won't tell your secret. It must be for good reason why you are hiding your identity and why my grandson is a part of it."

"But...but how do you know?" I stutter.

"A handsome young prince came into my shop before I had to leave Ramden. He was wanted a special necklace for his sister for her birthday. I would recognize that necklace anywhere."

I was stunned. What are the chances that this woman, Tryan's grandmother, made the necklace that Brycen got me for my birthday?

"Don't look so shocked, my dear," she says, patting my shoulder. "Now what about you and my grandson?"

"What about us?" I ask.

"You mean you haven't noticed?"

I shake my head and she laughs.

"Can't you see, sweetheart? He is in love with you."

"In love with me? No...I...how do you know?" I stammer.

"I see the way he looks at you as if you are the only person in the world. I know my grandson would do everything in his power to keep you safe, even give up his own life. That in itself tells me that he at least cares about you more than he is willing to admit."

A rush of memories comes flooding back in to my head. When we were fighting after I told him about the poison arrow, he seemed so upset with me. I have to wonder now if he was more upset with himself because he wasn't there. And then when he said he wasn't going to let me die; his tender kiss; his strong grip protecting me in the water; how caring and gentle he was when I had a fever and how determined he was to keep it down. Maybe Granna was right. Could Tryan really be in love with me? But the bigger question: was I in love with him? No. I can't fall in love. Not now. I will be dead in a couple of weeks so what would the point be?

Granna places her hand over mine. "My dear, love is waiting for you, if only you are willing to open your heart and let it in."

I think about Granna's words for the next couple of days. Moira offers me some of her dresses to wear while I am here. I have been wearing leggings for so long, I didn't realize how much I've missed wearing a dress.

I finally put away my fears and write to Papa and Brycen. I tell them about the poison and that Tryan and I are trying to find a way to counteract it. I tell them not to worry or to blame Tryan if I die; that it was my fault, not his, that this has happened. I tell them that I love them.

I let Lyza and Lycia play with my hair. They unbraid my curly hair and gently comb it. Then they pull the front back into a beautiful barrette, letting the rest fall down my back. They remind me so much of Jenisyn, it sends a wave of sorrow through my heart.

How could this one family touch my heart so much? Granna, who made my precious necklace; Elise, who has treated me like her own daughter; Moira, who has been the closest thing to a best friend that I have ever had; Lyza and Lycia, who remind me so much of the little sister I will never see again; and Tryan, the boy who loves me. And how would it affect them when I died, especially if I don't tell them?

These are the thoughts that haunt me as I sit in the swing in the back yard. It has been my haven, my sanctuary these past couple of days. I push myself back and forth slightly with my foot as I absentmindedly rub my necklace against my lips. I lose track of time, lost in my thoughts, and I barely hear Tryan approaching.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asks, leaning against the trunk of the apple tree the swing is attached to.

I glance over at him. "Thinking."

"About what?"

"Life. Death. Whatever my mind wanders to."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Did you know that Granna made my necklace?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, were you there when Tryan got my necklace?"

"No, but I do remember him going off by himself a couple of times when we were near Ramden. That must have been what he was doing. So does Granna know who you are?"

I nod. "But it's okay. She promised to keep my secret and I trust her. Plus, I know she wouldn't do anything that would put you in danger."

"She really likes you, you know."

I smile. "I really like her, too." I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of the apples the soft breeze blows over. "This swing reminds me so much of when I was a little girl. We have a swing just like this in the garden back home. Papa used to push me on it all the time when I was younger. I felt like I could fly! He used to push Brycen also, but after Mama died, he just stopped. He said something about me being a young lady now and I needed to grow up. I still miss those days."

"Don't we all?" Tryan laughs. He has a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Want me to push you?"

I smile and nod.

"Then hold on tight," he says, grasping the sides of the swing. He pulls the swing back and runs forward, pushing the swing with all his might. I let out a scream that turns into a laugh as I fly through the air. The wind is rushing through my hair and I get butterflies in my stomach every time I swing back. I laugh until I start to cry. I feel like a little girl being pushed by her Papa. It felt so good to fly again! When I finally slow to a stop, giggling, Tryan is right in front of me and I smile up at him.

"That was so much fun!"

He smiles. "Good."

When he reaches forward and wipes my tears away with his thumb, I feel those butterflies in my stomach again, but for a different reason.

"You are so beautiful when you laugh," he whispers. I catch my breath, unable to speak. He leans his face toward mine. I know he is trying to kiss me, and part of me deep inside wants him to, but I pull away before he can.

"Tryan, I can't," I whisper. "I just...I can't." I slide off the swing and make my way toward the house, remembering Granna's words.

"Love is waiting for you, if only you are willing to open your heart and let it in."

I wipe tears from my eyes, only this time they are tears of sadness instead of happiness. Sadness that no matter how badly I want to, I can't open my heart and let Tryan in.