Fair Maiden by Cheri Schmidt Page A

together. Will you not tarry
longer to see what I discover?”
    Again, she tossed a nervous glance toward the trees. “I
think not.”
    “So you’re deserting me?”
    “Deserting you?” She pointed. “I cannot go that way!”
    “You could wait.”
    The ghost was drifting away already.
    “Now why won’t you stay? Nothing can harm you here.”
    She didn’t look convinced and spun away from him, a frown
tugging downward at her mouth. Even though he was disappointed to see her go,
the fact that she still managed to look adorable when she did that did not
escape him.
    “I’m going back,” she said. “You may explore the forest on
your own.” Her words sounded like a command, and then he realized something.
She did not curtsey as his maid had. In fact, she never curtseyed! A
smile curled along his lips. She could very well be high-born. Such manners
were trained to the point they were second nature. If this girl were anyone
less than noble, she would dip into a lady-like sweep as was expected of her.
Yet, never had she done that!
    And he could not blame her for her unpredictable
temperament. Indeed, at least she trusted him again, even after his attack on
her tender emotions the other night. Which he was still kicking himself for.
    Christian spoke soothing words to his mount as he wedged his
foot into the stirrup and swung back into the saddle.
    Steering the horse toward the tangled trees, Christian
determined to explore this land while he was here. He set a hand on his gun to
reassure himself of safe passage against any highwaymen or ruffians he might
encounter, then edged Prince forward.
    The towering firs closed in around him and smothered out the
bright light of the sun. The world took on a cast of green as his horse trudged
through thick underbrush and other forest plant life. Very little bark was
visible around the spongy moss that blanketed the trees.
    Christian was glad he couldn’t actually bring her in here.
It was eerie, even for him, and chills defied gravity as they trickled up his
spine.
    After exploring what he suspected was a mile or more out,
Christian encountered a choking mist that felt more like a wall than a settled
cloud. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, voicing a warning to him.
Christian knew better than to ignore such feelings, and decided to turn back.
    He redirected his mount and picked up the pace again with a
nudge from the heels of his boots. Breathing a sigh of relief as he broke
through the foliage and spied his castle, Christian knew his worry of getting
lost had been unfounded.
    After a warm and comforting dinner of roasted duck, boiled
potatoes, and another slice of apple pie, he settled into bed with a full
stomach and a contented sigh.

Chapter
9
    Dream
or Memory?
     
    She was walking, really walking down a long corridor
inside a castle. Not drifting, or hovering. Gravity had its hold and held her
comfortably against the floor. The feeling was richly natural and familiar.
This place felt familiar.
    Yes , she thought, this is my home .
    Somehow she knew seven doors down, to the right, was her
bedchamber. And her parent’s was just across from that. Both chambers looked
out upon the grand gardens, which she also knew. She could picture them now
even though she could not see them. This is where she came from.
    Rows and rows of stone archways extended before her. Large
wooden doors marched along either side. Doors like the one to her bedchamber at
that unfamiliar castle. All of them carved with a diamond pattern on the
surface, and ornately dressed with hinges curling along the surface. She could
feel her slippers sink into the red, woven Persian carpet that stretched along
the hallway. She shivered as a draft caused gooseflesh to bloom along the
length of her arms and legs, yet that too was familiar.
    The corridor was well-lit, just as she knew it had always
been, and it was richly decorated with many gold-framed paintings. She
recognized the ornate design of the blazing