Evanna would know that voice anywhere. Their time together may have been little compared to those of her friendships over the years, but Arawn, the Crown Prince of the Flori, left an incomparable impression. Evanna stared at Arawn's shadow, her sword shaking in her hand.
"*Turn around,*" Evanna ordered softly, although she didn't feel like the depth of her command was strong. She was in the bath, and although she held a sword in defence, she felt far too exposed.
Arawn chuckled, and she heard him shuffling his feet. She couldn't quite see him; although there were gaps in the divider, she couldn't tell if the Prince really did turn away. So she called to her gift and watched as vines weaved in and out of the holes as pink flower buds grew and bloomed.
