“I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Gaelin,” Seriene said quietly, as they stopped to admire the view.

“I’ve been cooped up in the castle for weeks now,” he replied. “I love these highlands. The air is so crisp and cool… the smell of the heather and the rain… I could get lost up here, and never come back.”

Seriene tossed her head, her dark hair streaming in the wind. “I almost feel jealous,” she said, smiling. They rode a little further, just over a hilltop, and Madislav caught Gaelin’s eye with a quick, approving nod. The Vos and his guardsmen casually fell back out of earshot, leaving Gaelin and Seriene to ride over the hillcrest and continue alone on the other side.

The guards were out of sight, a couple of hundred yards away, but not too far for peace of mind.

“Your friend seems to want us to be alone,” she observed with a shy smile. “Or was it your doing?”

“Madislav’s trying to encourage me to be more direct with you,” Gaelin answered. “Don’t pay him any mind.”

In a sheltered hollow, they dismounted and sat together on a mossy boulder, watching the stars come out one by one as the evening faded toward night.

As darkness began to fall, Seriene leaned close, and Gaelin kissed her, a long, slow kiss that seemed to last forever. Silently she drew away, and Gaelin found himself beginning to undo the fastenings of her dress, letting it fall from her white shoulders.

Her body was soft and pale in the starlight, and Gaelin’s mouth went dry at the sight of her. “Seriene, I…”

“Shh.” She moved closer, touching her hand to his face. She nestled into his arms and guided his hands as he caressed her.

Gaelin drank another long kiss from her perfect lips, and then pulled himself away, quickly standing and stepping away from her, his eyes on the distant hills. “Seriene, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’d like to be your lover, even if it’s just for this night – but I can’t promise you anything. It’s just not right for me to do this.”

He heard her as she stood and followed him, the soft whisper of her dress sliding away from her entirely, and she came up behind him and pressed herself close, her arms around his shoulders. “Gaelin, I’m not asking anything of you. I know you’re married to Mhoried, and that’s why I care for you.”

Gaelin was intensely aware of her closeness. Seriene’s arms were circling his body again, unfastening his shirt. “Seriene, I’m nobody. If I win back my father’s throne, then this would be a fine idea, a wonderful idea, but all this could be over in days.”

Seriene reached up to his shoulders and turned him to face her. “That doesn’t matter to me,” she said, and kissed him again, with a fierce abandon that swept his resistance away.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was lowering her to the cool heather, and for a time the world ceased to be as he took her in his arms.

After a time, they lay side by side, looking up at the sky and the glorious vault of stars overhead. Seriene was warm and soft against him, breathing slowly. “Gaelin, do you love Erin?” she asked in a small voice.

“No, of course not,” he said. “I’ve never – ” But even as he spoke, his conscience strummed a discordant note in his heart. He’d never kissed Erin, or seen anything more than hints that she might have feelings for him… but there in the moonlight, with Seriene right there beside him more beautiful than a goddess, the image of Erin’s face and her long, redgolden hair floated in his mind. “I’ve never held her like this, I promise you.”

Seriene sighed, her breath warm on the back of his neck.

“As a famous bard once said, ‘I think thou dost protest too much.’ ” She let him go and moved away. Gaelin heard her dressing again.

He stood, reaching for his own clothes. “Seriene, she’s a friend, and I’ve been through a lot with her, but I’m not lying to you. I haven’t even kissed her,” he said over his shoulder.

She laughed softly in the darkness. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, Gaelin. It’s not in your nature. But anyone can lie to himself.”

He turned and stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders and kissing her tenderly. Her bodice was still partly undone, but the princess was decently covered. He gazed directly into her eyes and said earnestly, “Seriene, I’m falling in love with you. But you’re right, in a way. My heart’s confused. It’s not right for me to make any commitments until I’m certain of where my heart lies. There’s so much happening to me… I don’t want to make this decision in haste.”

She smiled wistfully, and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

“I suppose you know how I feel,” she said. “As long as you’re not certain of what is in your heart, then I should keep my distance. But when you think you’ve decided…” She laid her hand on his chest and swayed suggestively close. “I’ll be waiting.”

Gaelin flushed and carefully stepped back. “I feel like a fool,” he said to no one in particular.

“At least you’re an honest one.” Seriene stooped to gather her things, and in a few moments they were leading their horses back over the crest of the hill. Gaelin could have sworn that Blackbrand was snorting derisively at him, as if to say, What on earth is wrong with you, Gaelin?

Seriene suddenly stopped, reaching up to catch Gaelin’s arm. He glanced over at her. She nodded down the slope of the hill. “Where are the guards?” she whispered.

It was dark, but Gaelin’s eyes were well adjusted to the gloaming, and the hillside was fairly clear. Down a little far- ther, he could see the half-dozen horses of their escort, standing around with their reins hanging loose. They hadn’t been tied off or secured, just left to wander. And there was no sign of their escort, except for one dark form that rose and stretched as the two of them watched. “What is going on here?” Gaelin said quietly.

The man below them turned and started up the hillside at a steady pace, glancing up at them. It was Madislav, his features dark and shadowed in the starlight.

“Madislav, what’s going on?” Gaelin called, pitching his voice just loud enough to carry. “Where are the others?”

“Them? Oh, I sent them away,” the Vos replied cheerfully.

“I did not need them around for this. I was getting bored waiting for you two.”

Gaelin sensed something terribly wrong. Something about the way Madislav looked at them, the easy swing of his arms, the purposeful stride… there was danger here. He took a half-step back and reached across Blackbrand’s saddle to put his hand on the sword hanging from the pommel. Seriene caught his worried look and stepped clear. “Madislav, what’s going on?” he said.

The Vos climbed toward them. “I will explain in a moment,” he said with an upward glance.

Gaelin drew his sword with one fluid motion, the steel ringing from the sheath. “Why don’t you stop there and explain?” he said, his voice steady.

Madislav raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Quick to draw steel on an old friend, are you not?” With an exaggerated gesture, he raised his hands and spread them open. “After all, I am unarmed.” He mumbled something under his breath.

Seriene shrieked. “Gaelin! Watch out!”

With a word, the wizard circled his hands and flung a gesture at Gaelin. From his outstretched fingertips five coruscating spheres of blue light leapt away from him. Four spheres raced at the young prince, while one altered course and streaked toward Seriene. Before Gaelin could even blink, the bolts crashed into his body, striking the center of his torso. He barely noticed when the bolt directed at Seriene suddenly vanished in a flash of silent light.

Pain doubled Gaelin up and sent him tumbling headlong down the hill. He fell and rolled about twenty yards, sliding to a stop against a set of low, mossy rocks that caught and turned his ankle viciously. His stomach burned as if he’d been branded with a torch, and the smell of burnt cloth and flesh reeked in his nostrils.