EXCERPT 1).
His father and Badenberg needed him to find a suitable wife. Ludwig’s solution was to host the two balls and hope Ehrhart found a wife among the wealthy and titled of Badenberg. But, though Ehrhart had agreed to such a plan, he couldn’t help but feel he’d find a wife on his own terms. Would that be Beatrice? He stared down at his hands loosely wrapped around the reins. Beatrice was certainly a plausible solution to his problem, but could she be a woman he’d love for the rest of his life? She appeared interested in him and his attention, but did he truly know her intentions? He had meant what he’d told his sisters, he was interested in more than just a pretty face.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the trees, followed by another and another. Then he heard a piercing crack to his left. Ehrhart peered up just in time to watch a tree fall along the path. The jarring movement and sound caused Storm to rear.

With his hold on the reins so loose, the sudden jolt sent Ehrhart out of his saddle and towards the ground.

He closed his eyes and braced for the impact, which came quickly. The wind was knocked out of him. He gasped and breathed deeply to restore the air to his lungs, but his vision was slow to clear. Squeezing his eyes tightly, he tried moving his limbs and muscles. His legs and arms moved without pain, but his back felt stiff from the fall. He opened his eyes, staring at the trees above him. Streaks of sunlight pierced the canopy.

To his left, he heard light footsteps drawing near. Someone was attempting to sneak up on him. He was vulnerable while lying on his back. An urge to protect himself flooded his senses. He grunted as he lifted his head and reached for the dagger concealed within his boot.

After drawing the knife from its sheath, he pulled the weapon into a defensive position near his face. The hilt was held securely in his palm while the blade rested upon his skin, extending up and past his wrist. He was still on the ground, but the knife gave him hope in defending himself.

He waited for the steps to get closer.

When they did, he swung his arm from his face and rolled to his left side, allowing him to look into the eyes of his would-be attacker.

EXCERPT 2).
Ehrhart wanted to beg her to explain, but he could see she was safeguarding herself, from what, he couldn’t tell.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” He asked.

She smiled wide, as if she’d anticipated the question all night. “Yes, my name R…”

“Fire! Fire! Up at the castle! Look! In the bailey!” Someone yelled nearby.

Ehrhart jerked his head towards the castle, searching for the flames. His eyes found them rising from the inner bailey.

The girls! Father.

He looked to the maiden, unbothered by the fear he knew his face was conveying. “Forgive me. I have to go,” he said, suddenly out of breath.

He spotted Gregor running towards him. “We have to go,” the knight yelled as he passed. “I’ll fetch the horses.”

He returned his attention to the maiden, “Will you be alright? I must help up at the castle,” he told her. His eyes roamed the scene before him. People stood staring and pointing at the flames shooting up from the castle grounds. Others, too intoxicated to know anything was askew, continued to dance about the square.

The young maiden beside him removed her hand from his grip, drawing his attention. His eyes caught sight of the floral wreath upon her head. His palms went sweaty, for he knew he had but a moment before Gregor returned with the horses.

“Would you allow me to carry your crown home with me?” He asked her. He’d never felt more concerned of rejection than in that moment.

He watched as she reached up and retrieved the beautifully crafted circlet. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” she whispered.

He heard horses approach as he declared, “I hope our paths cross again soon.”

The warmth of her smile let him know she felt the same. “Be careful,” she told him.

“Let’s go!” Gregor shouted as he handed him Storm’s reins. Ehrhart carefully tucked the wreath into his saddle bag and grabbed the reins. He quickly climbed into his saddle as Storm began a fast trot through the crowd. As he looked behind him and returned his gaze to the girl, she stood wide-eyed, looking back and forth between himself and Storm.

In that moment, he realized she knew he was the man from the woods.

EXCERPT 3). 
He reached the garden without interruption and opened the iron gate. He was startled to find a figure sitting upon the stone bench. It was his father; his face in his hands. Ehrhart stood motionless, silently watching a man whose soul could not let go of its grief. He knew the feeling well, for he often thought of his mother and how much he missed her.

It was rare to see his father, the Duke of Badenberg, in such a vulnerable posture and Ehrhart felt guilt in trespassing on the intimate moment.

He contemplated turning to leave the garden, but suddenly, a red squirrel leapt from the beech tree at the far end of the garden, causing his father to glance up from his hands.

Father watched the squirrel find its landing and then turned to meet Ehrhart’s gaze. “Ah, Son. You’ve found me out. Come, sit with me.” Duke Hans gestured to the space next to him. Ehrhart looked at the man he so deeply admired. The Duke’s shoulder length hair had begun its transition from a dark brown to a light grey. Though the grey made his father look as if he was aging, it also created a look of wisdom.

“How long have you been out here, Father?”

“Not long.” He paused a moment, as if contemplating his next words. “Like you, I feel a little closer to your mother out here, among her favorite blooms. Her cornflowers are quite colorful this year and I’m not confident I’ve seen that shade of purple before.” He nodded his head towards the prismatic plot of simple flowers. His father was right. Ehrhart spied new shades of the delicate flora.

“It’s easy to see why they were her favorite,” the Duke confessed.

“How so?”

“Well, beyond their charming appearance and the way they gracefully dance in the wind, the cornflower is a symbol of hope. You see, the flowers were not just something pretty for your mother to look at or tend to, though she enjoyed both. She also saw them as instruments in conveying one’s emotions.” He arose suddenly and walked to the plant abutting the bailey walls. Ehrhart followed.

Reaching the edge of the garden, his father bent down, his head disappearing into the stems of the carnation plants. When he stood, he produced a pink carnation between his thumb and finger. “The carnation is used in mourning. Gifting a bundle of carnations was Lady Adelaide’s way of showing her solidarity with those suffering from a loss. It was a gesture of compassion and one that was always appreciated.” His father took a deep breath, staring intently at the blushing bloom. In that moment he felt a connection with his father’s words and the longing he felt for his mother’s presence.

EXCERPT 4).
With her mind now calmed, she noted the depth of the darkness in which she found herself. She pulled the mask from her face to see more clearly in the low light. The servant had slowed their pace, but had managed to lead Reynette to the base of the stone steps without her being aware of it.

“Thank you, I feel better now. Perhaps, we should rejoin the other guests?” Reynette suggested.

Instead of a response from the man, she heard the sound of a carriage approaching from the shadows. Reynette tightened her grip on the servant’s arm. The arrival and appearance of the carriage made her feel uneasy. It appeared to be fortified with iron walls and looked unlike anything she’d ever seen before. There were no windows save for a small hole in the upper part of the door. She could not imagine a need for such a coach.

“All is well,” the servant assured her. “This is one of our guests arriving late to the ball. Come, I shall help them from the carriage.”

She allowed him to approach the carriage, but kept her hand firmly attached to his arm.

Without warning, she was pushed towards the coach. In a flurry of movement, the door swung wide and Reynette found herself being pulled into the carriage. Boney hands pulled at her wrists while another set pushed her upward by her ankles. She tried to use her mask to ward off her attackers, but they had surprised her and were too strong. The delicate mask Rose had gifted her fell to the ground below.