Once she was ensconced in her room and kicked off her boots, she tore the seal with a certain amount of pleasure mixed with trepidation. They’d already had one exchange of letters since the fall, he asking forgiveness for the way he treated her when last they saw one another. His mind had been poisoned against her, he explained, by Blackveil, by Mornhavon. He did not, however, offer it as an excuse, instead placing the blame on himself, saying that he’d been a fool to believe such evil deceptions. How could he ever doubt her?

The humility of his apology dissipated any confusion, any hurt his behavior had caused her. They were still friends, but...

But.

Maybe she had read too much into his letter, but she sensed he wanted to be more than just friends. Maybe it was how ardently he expressed his desire to see her, how much he wished to make up for his poor conduct of the past. She shook her head. No, there was more behind his words, not to mention a little history.

They’d almost become “more than friends” once, but their schedules were so often in conflict that it never worked, and Karigan discovered she was actually relieved. She couldn’t explain exactly why, but somehow she couldn’t imagine herself and Alton that way together. It felt funny, and he was too dear to her to ruin their friendship with the complications of romance. In the end they settled for friendship, though there was always that tension between them, the hint of possibility on the horizon ...

In that light, though she was pleased to receive another letter from him, she also felt uneasy about what he might choose to express. Would he indicate a desire for being more than friends again?

Alton started the letter with the usual greetings and grumbled about the winter. He spoke of how much easier his work would be if only the king and captain would send him a small contingent of Riders, one for each tower. He and Dale had been hard-pressed to visit the towers in the bad weather, and made it only to those closest to them.

He complained about the tower mages and their penchant for partying. He mentioned names and personalities Karigan had a hard time keeping track of, except for Merdigen, whom she’d met.

He was pleased to report, however, the wall guardians seemed content. Frequently he checked them to ensure the song that bound the wall together remained strong and harmonious.

And then it came: Perhaps the captain could assign you down here. I will suggest it. Then we could spend much more time together—it would be far better than letters to have you here with me. We could work things out between us in person. I have thought continuously of you all through the winter and really want to—here he broke off and scribbled something out, writing instead, see you and start over. Please come soon.

Karigan swallowed hard. He thought continuously of her? And what had he scribbled out? She tried angling the paper toward the little bit of light that filtered through the arrow slit that served as her window, but he’d been too generous with the ink and she couldn’t make it out. What did he really want?

What was clear was that he wanted her there. She had no idea if the captain would actually consider assigning her to the wall. On the one hand, Karigan would be away from the castle and King Zachary and all the wedding festivities. On the other, she would have to deal with Alton and any expectations he had of her. Maybe while he thought “continuously” of her, he’d built her up in his mind into someone she wasn’t. Time and separation sometimes had that effect, instead of distancing two people.

But time and separation hadn’t alleviated her feelings in regard to King Zachary, as much as she hoped it would. She didn’t know why, only that just thinking about him tangled her all up inside.

Men were confusing. King Zachary, Alton, Lord Amberhill, and even her father. They were mysterious in their ways and she would never understand them.

AMBERHILL

She was very mysterious, Xandis Pierce Amberhill mused, as he watched Karigan G’ladheon walk away from him. Even soaked and mud-splattered, with damp locks of hair falling in her face, he did not know what to make of her. Ordinary she might appear at first, but he’d seen her exercise power. He’d seen her vanish for real.

He’d first encountered her at the Sacor City War Museum, he in his guise as the Raven Mask to steal a document on exhibit, and she in the guise of a lady. She’d tried to stop him, even attired in fancy dress as she was. She grabbed a sword right off a wall display and attempted to prevent him from taking the document.

He learned much later that if she’d not been in dress and corset, and had been using a sword more suitable to her size, she could have seriously challenged him. At the time he’d only been amused.

The next time he saw her, they were clear across the country in the west, in the Teligmar Hills. She had rescued Lady Estora from kidnappers, then tried to draw them away from the king’s betrothed by disguising herself as the lady, only to be captured in turn. Amberhill, who’d tracked the abductors in his own bid to rescue Lady Estora, ended up rescuing Karigan G’ladheon instead. Or, at least her hand. The woman possessed enough fortitude to rescue herself.

In the wake of his adventures in the Teligmar Hills, he learned she was a royal messenger, which explained much about her courage and sense of duty. He noted the esteem with which the Weapons regarded her, and heard much later that she’d assisted them in recovering the book his cousin, the king, had been so concerned about. She’d earned herself knighthood.

And then there was the power.

She’d vanished before his eyes, yet she would not admit she possessed this ability. There was also that amazing black stallion that had been so much more than a horse he’d seen with her. Thoughts of the otherworldly stallion sent a shiver racing through him.