She was purpose-fully intent on her work, for if she allowed her thoughts to range freely she would be overtaken by the knowledge and the hope that he still might come. Stems and crushed blooms littered the coarse yellow gown she wore and damp earth stained the garment, but she paid it no mind. Carefully she twined purple summer flowers into her single dark brown braid, and dabbled bare feet in the rushing water. She sat by the creek, half-hidden in lush grasses. She grinned in devious anticipation and straightened in the deep grass, wiping water from her sun-browned skin. The warriors splashed into the creek, splattering her liberally. What have you been doing harvesting all the flowers? You are fair covered with them. The prince stared down at her quizzically, one tawny eyebrow rose. She grinned at him and shook her head as he tried to settle the horse- The creek bottom offered treacherous footing to any beast, and me warhorse had yet to find a comfortable spot, Finally his rider cursed again in exasperation and spurred him through the water onto the bank, where he stared down at her from the chestnut's great height. The animal reacted to her unexpected appearance with alacrity. Then her attention was caught by an approaching rider, and she let fall the flowered braid from limp fingers. A songbird called from the forest behind and she glanced up, smiling at the delicate melody.

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