He kissed her slowly, deeply, seized by a slew of contrasting emotions. It was wrong to kiss her, he registered faintly in the back of his mind, but it felt more right than anything else he had done since arriving in Alvair. A fire awakened somewhere within him as their lips met, the heat of it at odds with the chill of the Amulet clutched between their hands.

The grass and the vines and the willow tree were all so lush and vividly green that he was slightly awed by them. Their location within an alcove of a cliff made all of it more remarkable. It was such an unexpected place for something so beautiful, like an oasis in the middle of a barren desert.

It had been the most difficult part of coming to terms with what she was; knowing that she had to give up a potentially blissful and wildly happy relationship with Caleb. But it was her responsibility, she told herself, to say goodbye to him.

No sooner had the thought occurred to him than he found himself staring down the barrel of a single-shot caplock pistol, and halted in his tracks. It was not a particularly accurate weapon if he remembered correctly, not that it would matter at point-blank range.

An elegant sari was draped across her figure; magnificent, painstakingly embroidered, and in a shade of deep red, it was even more lavish than the gowns she had worn every day since arriving at the castle. Her lips and eyes were painted, and though she looked beautiful she had never been more miserable.

But she had slept, she was positive. She knew it because of the dreams. Despite the comfort of her bed she had tossed and turned all night, her sleep punctured by images and disjointed flashes of battle. She thought she had also dreamt of a handsome stranger with dark hair and a charming smile. Upon waking, however, the unknown man’s features were indistinct in her memory.