Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum series belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Note: This is a fairly common fantasy/romance plot line that wouldn't leave me alone. And yes, I was extra mean to Steve (Valeries hubby) because he's scum for abandoning her and the girls.
Pairing: Babe
Rating: Suitable for people over 13
Feedback: Send emails to TT at ttsmiscellany@yahoo.com

Disguise
By TT

The war had been going on for years. The King’s army was nearly decimated, but the war with Philadelphia had to be won.

Thus it was that a decree was sent out from King Joseph that each family in the kingdom, be they common or noble, must send one son to join the king’s army. If no son was sent, then that family’s lands, should they have them, would be taken by the crown and the family themselves pressed into service. There was also the possibility of the head of the family being beheaded for treason, should a son not be sent. The minimum term of service was one year.

In the small village of Burg, many of the families had already sacrificed for the king. There was one family, however, that had not.

That was the family of the Baron Plum.

Lord Plum had no sons. He did, however, have two daughters, Lady Stephanie and Lady Valerie.

Both girls had been married at an appropriate age to men who, at the time, seemed the appropriate alliance.

Lady Stephanie’s husband, Sir Richard Orr, had been found murdered outside a well-known brothel in Trenton proper less than four months after marrying Stephanie. The Baron was less than pleased and quickly took his beloved daughter back into his home.

The Lady Valerie had been married to the dashing Sir Stephen whose holdings were in the northern reaches of the Kingdom.

A year prior, Valerie had appeared on the Baron’s doorstep. Her husband had disappeared with a young woman from the north.

After hunting down information about Lady Valerie’s wayward husband, Baron Plum found he was once again denied the satisfaction of extracting revenge upon his sons. Apparently the young woman from the north led Sir Stephen to her home. There she revealed she was, in fact, no woman, but a young man. Sir Stephen stayed anyway.

Within a month of their arrival in the north, the truth was discovered. Believing that both the “woman” and Sir Stephen were possessed of demons, they were stoned to death, their bodies dismembered and left at a cross roads until their flesh had been eaten by crows whereupon their bones were burned and the ashes scattered to the winds.

It was not nearly enough punishment as far as Baron Plum was concerned.

Knowing, though, that the taint of witchcraft would stain his entire family, he kept Sir Stephen’s demise a secret, merely telling his daughter that her husband was dead.

The problem now, was that with both sons dead, Baron Plum was the only one who could fulfill the king’s decree. However, there were many things which made this an unacceptable alternative. The first of which was that he was well beyond the age of most soldiers. Years ago he had given up practicing arms. Even if he still practiced, however, his reactions would be so slow that he would fall easy pray to any young man with a sword.

The second reason, and the most pressing for his daughters, was that, should he die without a male heir or a male grandchild, his cousin Vincent would inherit his barony. He knew that Vincent wished desperately to wed his daughters. That fate had been avoided when the Baron’s cousin found it prudent to marry Lady Lucille.

Despite being married, Vincent’s lust for the Baron’s daughters had not diminished. Without him there, his daughters might well be forced to behave as wife to his cousin without the privilege of marriage.

That outcome was unacceptable.

Also unacceptable was his wife’s desire to marry Stephanie to Sir Joseph Morelli.

It was true that, since joining the King’s army, Joseph had become a far more responsible man, but the Baron could never forget finding his six-year-old daughter Stephanie in the stables with the young cad, her skirts lifted and the boy’s head underneath them.

Despite the switch he had taken to the little devil spawn, ten years later at a dance, he had found the same young man and Stephanie in a darkened room. The insufferable man had been trying to compromise his daughter. Fortunately, the Baron had stopped thing before they went too far.

Unfortunately, within a week, rumors of their encounter began spreading. Those rumors grew to include the taint of compromise.

It had been to save his family’s honor as much as anything else that had caused him to enter into the hasty marriage arrangement with that weevil Sir Richard Orr.

All of this reminiscing, however, did nothing to resolve his current problem.

A knock on the door to his study proved a welcome interruption.

“Father?” Lady Stephanie asked, opening the door and stepping inside.

A warm, welcoming smile appeared on the Baron’s face. “Ah, Pumpkin,” he greeted. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit.”

Lady Stephanie smiled only briefly at the endearment, before her face returned to a more serious mien. “I assure you, the honor is mine,” Lady Stephanie replied dutifully.

The Baron suddenly felt nervous. His second daughter never followed these civilities except when she was nervous or unsure. “Sit and speak your mind, child,” he offered.

Perching on the edge of her seat, Lady Stephanie’s hands began to twist together in her lap. “Father, I know of the King’s decree.”

A heavy sigh escaped the Baron before he could suppress it. “It’s not your worry, Stephanie,” he informed. Lady Stephanie’s face took on a stubborn look that the baron well recognized. He knew then that he wouldn’t be winning this argument. Even if he denied her request and locked her in the root cellar, he would be unable to keep her from her plan of action. Rubbing his hands over his face, he repeated, “Speak your mind.”

Rising from her chair, Lady Stephanie moved until she was kneeling before her father. “Papa, I love you,” she began. “I know of our family situation and I know of the King’s decree.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I believe I should go as the knight from our household.”

“No!” her father denied, rising from his seat and walking toward the fireplace. “No,” he repeated more softly.

Lady Stephanie rose to her feet and walked to her father. “It is the only way,” she insisted. “The training you began with I’ve maintained.”

“No, Stephanie,” Baron Plum stated, though even he could hear the weakening in his voice.

Reaching out, Lady Stephanie placed a hand on her father’s. “I can go as Sir Stephan. It’s close enough to Sir Stephen that none will question too closely. If they have a roll, they will know that Sir Stephen is your son.”

The Baron reached out and wrapped his daughter in a hug. “You could die, Pumpkin,” he choked out.

“I know,” Stephanie whispered, closing her eyes. She then opened her eyes and pushed slightly away from her father. “But I might also live.”

“It’s not just life and death, little one,” the Baron said, stroking her cheek. “It’s death as you’ve never seen. Your worst nightmare is nothing compared to what you would see on the battlefield. And it’s not just death. Things happen at war, at camps…”

“Father,” Stephanie said, stopping her father’s words. “I know this. I know what soldiers do to each other, to camp followers, to prisoners. I’ve heard the stories of other atrocities of which I will not speak. I know these things, but there is still no other way.”

The Baron closed his eyes. A single tear traced down his face. “There is no other way,” his hoarse whisper agreed. Pulling his daughter closer to him, he held her tightly. “We will proceed.”

Three months later

Lady Stephanie, or Sir Stephan as she was now known, ran the whetstone down the edge of his knife. There was a strange stillness over the camp this night. It was the night before battle.

With careful planning, she and her father had gotten entered her as the representative of the Baron’s family. With a word in the ear of one of the commanders and a few bits of gold, Sir Stephan was assigned to a newly formed regiment and a squad where, fortunately, none knew her.

Before going to report, she had cut her hair, an even that proved the most traumatic of all her preparations. Only her father’s most trusted servant and former armor bearer was allowed to fit her for armor. She had also spent long hours each day practicing with the weapons she would need. Though she had some skill with the blade, her best skill lay in her archery. That knowledge had aided her placement away from those who knew her. A

Given her father’s position, she had been given a tent of her own. That proved most beneficial when it came time for her to change or rest. Bathing had proven more of a challenge since most soldiers went together. She just claimed shyness, a lie most believed because she was passing herself off as a fifteen-year-old boy – thus also explaining her less than masculine appearance.

Retraining herself to say little or nothing had been the most difficult part of her preparation. If she spoke too much, it was more than likely she would betray her secret. Mostly, now, she answered with simple one or two word sentences and lowered her voice.

A month ago she had left her home and journeyed to this place.

The camp itself was smelly and crowded. She had, at first, felt sickened by it, but within a few days grew accustomed to that which surrounded her. She had also become proficient at blocking out that which she did not want to know.

Her band of archers was currently placed between the King’s cavalry and a group of mercenaries in the King’s employ.

She had been startled a few days ago. Another soldier, this one a true fifteen-year-old boy and the only person she considered a friend in camp, had told her the news. Action would be coming soon. Battle was on the wind.

The captains of the Calvalry and the Mercenaries would be meeting in their camp two days hence.

That day was today.

She had seen the captains ride into their camp. It would have been hard for her to miss since she was on her way to take a shift of guard duty.

It was lucky that she was not already at the camp’s entrance, or one of the cavalry captains would have recognized her. That captain was none other than Sir Joseph Morelli. He had obviously done well for himself in this war.

The mercenary captains rode in a few minutes later. They arrived in their signature black armor. Stephanie eyed them suspiciously, making sure she was out of the path of their horses, hiding in the shadows of a nearby tree.

All of the mercenaries had their helmets off. The two in the front were both normal sized. One looked to be a Moor, the other had unusual blond hair and dusky skin. The two who rode behind caused her to catch her breath and tremble, but for two very different reasons.

The first of these two men was, without a doubt, the largest human she had ever seen. Like one of the others, his skin was dark as night, his visage fierce.

The second of the two men following took her breath away because he was, quite simply, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. The tremble that raced through her at the sight of him was completely feminine in nature.

Somehow, this last mercenary must have sensed her. He turned his head toward the shadows where she stood.

Stephanie stepped further back into the darkness under the trees. Her heart raced and somehow, she knew he had seen her anyway.

Fortunately, he had continued on his path.

After her time doing guard duty, Stephanie returned to her tent.

None of the visitors had left yet, but she knew it would just be a matter of time. The sun was low in the sky and it wouldn’t be safe for them to ride in the darkness.

A lithe form settling on the ground beside her drew her attention back to the present.

“They’ve left,” Akin, her fifteen year old friend told her.

Stephanie just nodded.

“The battle plans are set,” he continued, his voice tight from fear and nervousness. “Tomorrow we become true soldiers.”

Stephanie felt her chest tighten at that thought. She had to swallow several times to remove the lump that formed in her throat. Finally she replied, “Then tomorrow we achieve victory.” She finished her statement with a grin.

Her words and attitude seemed to cheer the lad as he returned her grin and began relating tales of his home.

Five Months Later

Sir Stephan of Burg had been promoted to captain just the day before. The promotion came as much from still being alive as from any true merit.

So many had died and so many more would lose their lives. How many more would leave this life by her arrow?

Stephanie’s soul was weary. She felt weighed down by the cost this war claimed.

Her father had been right about the battlefield, but after that first battle, she had learned to deal with it and push onward.

She was only halfway through her year-long commitment.

Her young friend from the early days, Akin, had been sent home after losing a leg and a hand. His life would never be the same.

He wasn’t the only one she knew who had been injured.

Her archers continued to work closely with the mercenaries and the cavalry.

Despite the high cost in men, they were an effective group, the most effective the King had and they, now, led the way.

Standing and stretching, Stephanie let the weariness fall away. It had no place in a soldier’s life.

Her only concern now was whether or not she would be able to fool Sir Joseph when they were plotting the attack together. With any luck, as the newest captain, she would be pushed off to a darkened corner and forgotten.

A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of who else would be there.

Only twice since the first time had she seen the beautiful mercenary, had she seen him again. Both times were in battle. Both times he was magnificent.

She had heard rumors his simply went by “Sir Carlos” with no familial affiliation. Of course, as a mercenary, that was hardly surprising, she told herself, repeating the words she had overheard others say, his loyalty lay only with the highest bidder.

The problem was her heart didn’t believe it.

She had seen him save the life of a young archer, putting his own life in peril. Someone truly for sale to the highest bidder would have let the young archer die.

No, Sir Carlos wasn’t just available to the highest bidder. His actions showed him too honorable for that. There was much more hiding behind his façade than most people saw.

If she didn’t know better, she would say his being a mercenary was as much a disguise as her pretending to be “Sir Stephan”.

Shaking her head to clear it of such thoughts, Lady Stephanie began dressing, forcing herself into her role as “Sir Stephan”, captain of archers.

Four Months Later

The battles had been getting bloodier as the enemy became more desperate.

They had driven them back from Trenton lands, but the King now decreed that they would not stop until they had reached Philadelphia and claimed it.

That declaration, in and of itself seemed an odd, but Stephanie had long ago stopped questioning the motives behind such things. Daily survival had become her focus and goal.

She knew it was a bad sign when she stopped questioning things, but her time here was almost up. Just two more months and she could resign and return home.

Before leaving, she and her father had agreed that “Sir Stephan” would disappear on his journey home.

Though she truly enjoyed the freedom of movement her masculine clothes allowed, Stephanie, in her heart of hearts, was too much a woman not to miss her gowns and slippers.

Stephanie stepped out of the cool water of the stream. Bathing each evening had become almost a ritual for her. It allowed her to remove the blood, sweat and stains of the day. Being a captain didn’t keep her out of the battle.

Tonight she wrapped her blanket around herself and settled on the ground until she dried a bit more.

Her mind, as it often did when melancholy overtook her, drifted back to her third battle.

She shuttered at the thought and closed her eyes against the memory. It didn’t stop it, though. She could still hear the happy cry of the enemy and terrified cry of the archers as the enemy broke through the line and began attacking.

With the enemy too close to use her bow, Stephanie had drawn the long knife she carried with her and defended herself.

The first of the charging men who reached her was met with a swift stab to the stomach and a slice across the throat, just as she had been taught. Her brain registered everything about that moment – the smells of death and blood, the sounds of cried and blades crashing, the look of death as crimson flowed from wounds she had created, the feel of her knife slicing through flesh.

Fortunately, she didn’t have time just then to process the information because another enemy appeared before her ready to attack.

The timely arrival of Sir Carlos and his mercenaries chased away the enemy quickly.

Once they were gone, Stephanie’s first thought had been for her fellow archers. She turned to see who was still standing and who had fallen.

As she was taking an inventory, Sir Carlos himself had ridden up.

“Gather your archers and retreat,” he commanded.

Stephanie didn’t look up. Her eyes were locked on the two bodies before her, on the two lives she had taken.

She felt her body begin to shake and her stomach churn at the sight of the gaping, bloody wound in each man’s neck.

Memories of the encounters flooded her memory and she fell to her knees, retching into the dirt.

As her stomach ceased its spasms, she became aware of sobbing. After a moment she saw tears dripping from her face and realized that the sobbing was coming from her.

With great effort, she drew herself together. She was a soldier for the King. Soldiers were brave and didn’t cry.

But she knew that was a lie.

As she finally regained control of herself, she realized there was a steady, calming presence beside her and the weight of a hand on her shoulder.

Using her sleeve, she wiped the tears from her face and turned her eyes to see who was beside her. It was Sir Carlos.

“First time you’ve killed someone with a knife?” he asked.

Stephanie just nodded.

“A little different up close,” he observed. “You did well.”

Stephanie swallowed down the lump that appeared in her throat.

Looking into his eyes, being so close to him, Stephanie felt stirrings within that she could not explain. They were similar to what she had felt when Joseph Morelli had kissed her, but far more intense. She quickly forced her emotions away from her, knowing how dangerous they would be. Sir Carlos thought she was a boy.

Finally feeling in control of herself, Stephanie opened her eyes and nodded. She accepted his assistance in rising to her feet. “I’ll gather the men,” she said quickly before picking up her weapons and walking toward her injured Captain.

She had since been able to identify the feelings and emotions he stirred within her. It had been one of the camp followers who had helped her understand. The woman, a dark-skinned woman named Lula, had found her one afternoon while she was bathing. They had struck up something of a friendship, though Stephanie had been unable to reveal her true role.

The things she learned from Lula were shocking and frequently had her blushing, but they also had her intrigued. Her dreams had become vivid and somewhat embarrassing at night. They always featured Sir Carlos.

She had kept her interaction with Sir Carlos to a minimum. Not a hard task, really, with the frequent battles and being a junior captain. More and more, though, she had caught him looking intently at her. She was unable to discern the expression on his face, or any expression for that matter, but it frequently proved disconcerting.

Letting out a sigh, she rose from her position and moved toward the log where she had left her clothing.

Just as she reached down for it, a rustle in the bushes startled her.

She grabbed her knife and clothes before hiding in a nearby shadow, hoping that whoever was coming hadn’t seen her.

A few moments later Sir Carlos and one of his captains, who, she learned, was named Sir Lester, appeared in the clearing.

They scanned the area carefully. Sir Lester’s eyes skimmed the entire clearing without stopping. Sir Carlos’ eyes skimmed until they reached her hiding place and stopped for a few seconds, his gaze intense.

“Looks like your wood nymph isn’t here today,” Sir Lester teased.

Sir Carlos was silent for a moment. “Perhaps you scared her away,” he stated, his voice even and emotionless. “You weren’t, after all, invited.”

Sir Lester let out a peal of laughter and clapped the other man on the shoulder. “You go look for your nymph,” he instructed, “I’m going to find my way to the ladies.”

A grunt of agreement was all the response Sir Lester received before turning and leaving.

When his footsteps had faded to nothing, Sir Carlos remained in the clearing perfectly still for another few minutes.

He then turned toward the shadows where Stephanie hid. Finally he addressed the clearing. “I don’t know who you are, or in what capacity you follow us. I have looked for you daily, but only found you at night.” He was silent for a few moments before continuing. “If you are a nature spirit, then release me from your spell. If you are a woman, then, meet me here tomorrow at sunset. I pose you no threat.”

With that said, he turned and slipped into the night.

Stephanie stayed still until she was certain she was alone.

Slipping into her clothes, she headed back toward her tent, keeping to the shadows as much as possible and very thankful that tomorrow’s battle plan was already in place.

The Next Day

Stephanie slung her bow over her shoulder and pulled her knife.

The enemy had broken through the line once more.

She gave the necessary orders and prepared herself for what was to come.

The combat was intense. There were so many of them surrounding her, she felt she was being attacked from all sides.

Never before had it been this bad, but, then again, never before had they seen she was the captain.

Unlike the previous fights she’d been in, the men this time mobbed her. She felt their blades slashing through her tunic, drawing blood along her arms.

She was good enough to prevent a fatal blow for the most part.

A familiar battle cry sounded and distracted her just enough that one of her enemies got past her defense, his sword penetrating her shoulder.

Intense pain instantly consumed her.

She heard herself gasp before all sounds around her began to fade.

The sensation of the sword being removed from her shoulder was one she would never forget, and hope she would never remember.

A flash of black drew her eyes upward even as she collapsed to her knees. “Carlos,” she whispered as the darkness consumed her and she fell to the ground.

Some Days Later

Stephanie felt hot. It was as if a fire was consuming her.

As she struggled through the layers of confusion engulfing her, she realized the burning was mostly centered in her left shoulder.

That thought brought back memories of the last battle.

Her eyes flew open and she started to jerk upward.

That moved caused her to gasp as intense pain nearly overwhelmed her. As she collapsed once more, a groan of pain escaped.

Almost instantly, the flap of the tent was opened and a large figure filled it.

A frisson of fear swept through her until the form stepped inside and she was able to identify Sir Carlos.

He crossed the small space and knelt beside her. It was then that she realized she was on a soft pallet and that the tent was not her own.

Reaching out, Sir Carlos brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “You gave me quite a scare, Sir Stephan,” he said. “Or should I just call you wood nymph?”

Stephanie felt a flush cover her cheeks and continue to spread. Her eyelids closed in embarrassment. “I am neither,” she answered softly, after a few minutes.

“As I suspected,” Sir Carlos informed. He settled on the ground. “So, what should I call you, woman?” he demanded.

Stephanie gritted her teeth at his arrogant tone. She was about to snap, but realized that he now knew her secret. If he revealed it, her family would be left with nothing.

“I won’t reveal your secret,” Sir Carlos assured. “And neither will my men.”

“Your men know?” Stephanie gasped, panic seizing her.

“They needed to know why I would bring an injured archer here,” Sir Carlos told her, his face void of emotion. “You gave me quite a start on the battle field when I ripped open your shirt to check your wound and discovered you were no man or even a male youth.”

An odd smile appeared on his face then and his eyes seemed to darken. Stephanie wondered if that look was the one Lula described when a man wanted to couple with a woman. Her husband had never looked at her that way except for on their wedding night. Stephanie shuddered at the unpleasant memory.

“Cold,” Sir Carlos asked, running a finger down her cheek, her neck and across the exposed portion of her chest.

This time Stephanie shuddered for a different reason. She felt something stir in her – desire. Shifting the tiniest bit, a hiss of pain escaped her.

Whatever spell Sir Carlos had cast over her, was instantly gone.

“You’re in pain,” he observed, reaching over and removing the bandage from her shoulder.

She looked the other way, embarrassed to be seen in such an immodest way and, honestly, not willing to look at the wound.

“The wound is a little hot, but is draining well. I’ll have Sir Robert take a look at it later,” Sir Carlos informed. Then, rising, he moved across the room and retrieved a wineskin. “It’s water,” he informed, “but you should drink something. You’ve been asleep for three days.”

“Three days!” Stephanie exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about your men or your leader. I’ve spoken with them and informed them of your injury. Once you’re well enough to travel, you will be discharged from the King’s service and returned to your home,” he decreed. “Your family’s service to the crown is completed.”

Stephanie just stared at him, her mouth open, as her tired mind tried to process all he had just said. She felt his eyes skim over her and felt her body react in a way that she was coming to understand was tied to desire.

Sir Carlos’ expression changed, softened and became different. The smile she had seen before, the one she thought was caused by lust, appeared on his face. “Unless, of course, you’d rather stay in my tent.”

Her flush was instantaneous as was her anger. She knew exactly what he was suggesting and had never been more offended. “I am a lady,” she stated, her voice far softer than she would have liked for portraying her indignation.

Sir Carlos paused at the tent’s entrance and looked over his shoulder. “We’ll see,” he said. Turning back toward the entrance, he added, “You should think about how you’re going to repay me for saving your life, and keeping your secret.”

Stephanie watched as he stepped out of the tent and felt her stomach clench. She knew exactly what form of ‘payment’ he wanted and she would not provide it. It might be a woman’s lot to be treated as chattel, but she would not, could not do what he asked.

Right now, she was too weak to leave, but, with any luck, she would be able to leave before he tried to collect.

With great effort and no small amount of pain, she opened the wineskin and took a sip of water as she began to plan her escape.

Seven Months Later In Burg.

Stephanie slipped out of the music room and prayed her mother wouldn’t notice.

In the months since her return, her mother had taken to hovering over her constantly and ensuring that Stephanie still knew all of the ‘womanly’ skills she would need to catch a good husband.

Wandering out to the courtyard, she made her way to a little-used door and slipped outside.

She made her way to her cousin Edward’s house. Edward had been one of her closest playmates as a child. He had been betrothed to her cousin Shirley since birth. Oddly, the arranged marriage seemed to work for them. And, despite her constant complaints, Stephanie enjoyed visiting with her cousin.

He had returned to Burg just the previous week with the news the war was over.

Since then rumors had abounded, but Stephanie needed to know the truth of what had happened.

What she really wanted to know, though she wouldn’t admit it to herself, was what had happened to Sir Carlos.

Despite his words and looks, he had taken excellent care of her during her recovery and been a gentleman. At some point during their time together, she seemed to gain a better understanding of him. Sir Carlos was an extremely honorable man with a sense of right and wrong not often found in men.

Still, his innuendo and comments about payment had disturbed her enough that she kept with her plan of escape. A part of her understood that he was teasing her with the comments, but she they still made her extremely uncomfortable.

Five days after she woke up, she heard sounds that had become quite familiar to her – the sounds of preparation for battle.

She listened closely, hoping to glean information about the upcoming battle. There was little chatter, but she gleaned enough information to understand that this was a major push.

When she heard Sir Carlos’ voice approaching, she closed her eyes and force her body to relax so she might appear asleep.

Her trick had worked, though she almost lost it when she felt him stop by the side of her pallet. It took all of her self control not to react when he reached down and caressed her face. “Beautiful,” he breathed. Stroking a thumb across her lips, he added, “Soon, my love.”

Once she heard the tent’s flap close behind him, Stephanie opened her eyes and felt a shudder of desire roll through her. She couldn’t describe the warmth that filled her when she heard him call her ‘my love’, but Stephanie also knew it was, now, far too dangerous for her to stay.

Once the sounds of the camp had died to nothing more than singing birds, Stephanie removed the covers and forced herself to a sitting position.

There was still a lot of pain and she felt the room spin, but there was nothing else for it. She needed to leave.

Though it took far longer than she would have liked, she searched his tent and eventually found her clothes and weapons. It surprised her that all of her possessions were present including her small money pouch. Hefting the bag in her hand, she determined that her coins were all still present. It should be enough to see her home.

She had to stop several times while dressing and realized she wouldn’t be able to take everything with her. She sorted through her things and chose what she needed.

In the end, she was leaving behind her bow, her leather jerkin and a few items of clothing.

She was just getting ready to leave when she decided she needed to thank Sir Carlos for all he had done. Opening her pack, she felt for the small pocket which stored the one item she had kept of her old life. As she ripped the stitches, her hand shook a little.

She was leaving him her most treasured possession, a pendant her father had given her when she was seven and told him she wanted to fly. It was a finely carved eagle. It wasn’t worth much money, but it meant the world to her.

Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, she stepped over to her pallet and placed the pendant where her head had rested. Moving more quickly than she probably should have, Stephanie then turned and left the tent.

Finding herself outside Edward’s house, Stephanie knocked and was bid enter.

After greeting each other, they got down to business.

“What really happened?” Stephanie demanded.

A shadow passed over Edward’s face. It was one Stephanie well understood since she had seen it on her own more than once since returning.

Taking a deep breath, Edward began his story. “We had a big push and that broke the enemy line. They were in full retreat. Sir Carlos and some of his men kept up the pressure and kept them running.” Here, Edward reached for the cup on the table before him and took a drink. “The rest of us moved double-time quick to circle around and get in front of them, cut them off from their home.”

He was silent for several minutes, the horror of battle flashing in his eyes.

Stephanie waited silently.

“We succeeded in crushing them,” he informed. “But not without losses,” he added, his voice a mere whisper.

After a few minutes, Stephanie reached out and squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture.

Edward shook himself and offered a smile. “By the time we reached Philadelphia, they had barricaded themselves inside. We settled in for a siege. Then a few weeks later, Sir Carlos and his men somehow broke through their defenses. The gate was lowered and the battle joined. We took Philadelphia in a day.”

Stephanie desperately wanted to ask more about Sir Carlos, but she wasn’t supposed to know who he was.

A knowing smile appeared on Edward’s face. “I met Sir Carlos, Stephanie,” he confided. “I saw the pendant.”

All color instantly drained from Stephanie’s face and she began to breathe quickly.

Edward nodded. “I thought one of the archer captains looked familiar,” he stated, leaning back in his chair. “But I won’t tell anyone.”

“Does anyone else know,” Stephanie demanded, panic evident in her whisper.

“No,” Edward soothed. “The only other person who might have recognized it was Sir Joseph, but he never saw it.” After studying her another minute, he continued, “I understand why you did it and I only wish to God you hadn’t had to.”

Silence fell up on the duo for several minutes before Edward offered, “If you ever need someone to listen, I’m here.”

Stephanie offered a wan smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A sly smile then appeared on Edward’s face. “Of course, if I’m right, you won’t be around here much longer, maybe a few months to a year at best.”

“What are you talking about?” Stephanie demanded.

“Well, apparently, you made quite the impression on Sir Carlos, or should I say, His Royal Highness Ricardo Carlos Manoso the Third, King of Philadelphia and Surrounding Lands.”

“Ulk,” was all Stephanie managed as the color once more drained from her face and the world began to spin.

“Breathe, Stephanie!” Edward commanded.

Stephanie managed to noisily draw in some air. With Edward’s encouragement, she eventually managed to regain some sense of control. “Wh-what?”

Edward leaned back and sighed. “When I noticed the pendant, I gasped. Sir Carlos noted that and later that night summoned me to the meeting room. He cleared the room and had me sit down. By that point, we all knew who he really was and I was more than a little nervous.” Taking a sip of his drink, he continued, “He demanded what I knew of the pendant and the woman who owned it. At first I was reluctant to tell him anything, but… Stephanie, he pleased with me. A king, pleaded with me.” He shook his head, still unable to believe it. “I don’t know where I got he courage, but I told him I was a kinsman of yours and demanded to know his intentions.” Here Edward made sure he was looking Stephanie straight in the eye. “His intentions are entirely honorable. He then explained how the first time he had seen you he had lost his heart to you. Oh, he denied it to himself and spent many a night trying to rid himself of such feelings, after all, you were just a young boy. Then, one night, he was walking and came near a secluded grove where he spotted what he referred to as a wood nymph playing in the water. The sight so entranced him that he continued searching for her each night, trying to build the courage to approach her, yet unable to do so. It truly wasn’t until you were wounded that he discovered that the boy he loved and the nymph who haunted him were one and the same, and a woman.”

“He told me about your injury, how he tended it and what was said. Some of the things he said he only said to see you blush. It was a trait he found endearing. He told me about the repaying him comment, and at that point I nearly took a swing at him. King or no, no one should talk to you that way. Supposedly he regretted it the moment he said it, but he felt he needed to in order to keep up his disguise of being a mercenary. When he came back and found you gone, he cursed himself a fool a thousand times. You were still weak and injured, a woman alone and his words had forced you to flee. It was only after he raged at himself that he found the pendant you left.”

Reaching out, Edward covered Stephanie’s hand. “Stephanie, the man loves you. He wore the pendant every day and swore he would do so until he could return it to you. By that point, I was convinced he was no threat to you, so I told him about you – all about you.”

Stephanie gasped. “Edward!” she exclaimed. “Not everything.”

“He needed to know about Sir Richard, Stephanie. So I told him everything.”

A groan escaped Stephanie. “Now he’ll know I’m a failure as a wife.”

Edward just laughed.

Two Months Later

Stephanie was in the back hallway picking straw from her hair when her niece, Mary Alice, raced in. “Aunt Stephanie! Aunt Stephanie! You have to come quick!” she called, tugging her aunt’s hand.

“I’m still getting straw out of my hair from our fight,” Stephanie protested, wresting her hand from Mary Alice’s.

“Aunt Stephanie! Even grandmamma says it doesn’t matter. The king is here and he’s demanding to see you!”

Stephanie was about to deny her again when she saw her mother enter the hallway, a determined look on her face.

Hoping to cut off her mother’s tirade about her unladylike behavior and atrocious appearance, Stephanie started walking toward the front of the house.

The swell of voices led her to the appropriate room. As she stepped inside, she froze in place and felt herself first flush and then felt all color drain from her face. She didn’t move again until her mother took her arm and forced her forward. Standing in the room with her family was Sir Carlos, or, rather, King Ricardo.

“Your Highness,” her father said once Stephanie entered. “May I present my younger daughter, Lady Stephanie.”

A nudge from her mother snapped Stephanie out of her reverie and she managed a curtsey and a quick “Your Highness.”

“Lady Stephanie,” returned a voice that had haunted her dreams since the first time she heard it.

The King then turned his attention back to Baron Plum. “Might I have a private word with your daughter Lady Stephanie?” he asked.

Unable to deny a king anything, the Baron quickly agreed and cleared the room, as did the guards the king had with him.

Stephanie looked anywhere but at the man in front of her. Her hands clasped and she began to wring them.

The King stepped forward and took her hands in his own to stop their worrying. “Look at me,” he whispered. When she didn’t respond, he requested, “Look at me, please?”

Unable to resist the plea in his voice, Stephanie allowed her eyes to rise up and meet his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, almost as if to himself. He then released one of her hands and lifted his to stroke her cheek. “So strong.”

Stephanie, felt a sob build up within her, but, the sensation of his touch on her cheek was nearly overwhelming. Allowing her eyes to close, she leaned in to his caress.

Moving closer, King Ricardo leaned down and gently touched his lips to hers.

Feeling the soft brushing of his lips on hers, Stephanie released a contented sigh. When he pulled back, she opened her eyes to find herself looking into his eyes which were so filled with emotion it took her breath away.

“Why did you leave me?” he asked, releasing her other hand and wrapping both arms around her.

Stephanie rested her head on his shoulder, relaxing into him, rather than feeling trapped by his embrace. “I was afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of what you wanted,” Stephanie admitted.

King Ricardo let out a short groan. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “You were wounded. I should never have said those things to you.”

Stephanie pulled her head back a little, lifted a hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. “Edward explained it to me,” she assured. Taking a deep breath, she felt her cheeks turning crimson but continued, “I’m not very experienced with relationships. My marriage lasted only two months and he only took me as wife on our wedding night. There is much I don’t understand and I probably over reacted.”

“No, I assumed to much,” King Ricardo denied. “What I should have been telling you were the words in my heart, not the words of my flesh.”

A puzzled look crossed Stephanie’s face.

“For many years I’ve searched for a woman who would touch my heart. I had nearly given up hope when my brother conspired with our enemies to remove me from the throne. But that’s another story. You, Lady Stephanie, have done what I thought was impossible. You touched my heart and brought me love. In the middle of bloody battle, surrounded by a nightmare, you brought beauty, peace and contentment such as I had never known. When you left, you took my heart with you.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out the pendant. “I wear this each day in the hopes that one day I would find my heart again, find the lady who took it and spend the rest of my life with her. When I saw Edward recognized the pendant, I had to know everything.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Lady Stephanie. I hold titles and rank, but I am just a man. I am a man who loves you deeply and passionately. You hold my heart. Please say you’ll be my wife.”

Stephanie felt the brilliant light of joy start deep within her heart. It grew and expanded until it burst through to the outside in a blinding smile and eventually joyous laughter. “Yes, King Ricardo, Sir Carlos or whoever you are. I will be your wife.”

“Just Carlos, Stephanie. When we’re together, I’m just Carlos.”

Reaching up, Stephanie caressed his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes, allowing her own to shine forth with her joy and love. “Carlos,” she whispered, feeling a shudder run through his body. “My Carlos,” she whispered, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

End

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