August 17, 1345.
Stormhold Castle,
The walled city of Rothwell,
Capital of Myknos.
Prince Nicolas Alexander Tutton
He stared into the fire that burned in the grate as he sipped a dark rum from his cup. The weather was far too hot for a fire but he didn't care. Watching the flames helped him stay calm but today only the sound of her voice rejecting him resounded in his head over and over again.
"Argh!" He yelled throwing the cup into the flames.
Why did he believe that she would love him too? She was attracted, yes, but love? How could he have been so stupid?
'You've always treated her like a criminal.' His conscience scolded, 'How could you expect her to love you?'
He slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Odeya." He said her name as a whisper.
She had risked losing her mother by telling them of the war lying just outside their gates but his traitorous mind refused to see past her rejection.
