   The next day, Lord Evenus took his friends out hunting. I accompanied them and watched from a safe spot as they aimed at hare and deer. The lady that came with the count was a good shot. The arrows that flew from her bow hadn’t missed an animal yet. We had left the castle earlier in the afternoon, and now the evening was nearing its end. Troy hadn’t come with us because Lord Evenus said he would be distracted by Lady Agnes’ weapons and would chase her arrows like a stick.
   I chuckled as I helped the lord into his doublet this morning, sure that he was drawing that decision from a previous encounter. I tried to imagine Troy chasing after arrows and the thought had amused me.
   “If you kill any more of them, we won’t be able to carry the weight,” The Count told his daughter, making her roll her eyes as she put away her bow and got up from the dirt. Like the two men, the Lady was in breeches and a doublet, with the exception of the flowery hose and ribbons tied around her slim waist.
   “Skinning the animals is the interesting part,” Agnes said, walking over to retrieve the dead rabbit under the shrub a distance away. “Shooting them is a little too easy, don’t you think?” Agnes said, walking back over to her father before dropping the dead animal in the sack in front of her.
   “No, we leave that to the servants. I like to give out the hides if I can. I have no use for them,” Lord Evenus said. “Besides, shooting is the sport,” he added, looking over to me. He smiled, and I blinked, tearing my eyes away from him. He’d been giving me looks throughout their hunting game, and I feel that’s one of the reasons he lagged behind the Count. He could have made it to second place behind the Lady if he had been more focused. No one could take first from Agnes, she was a killing machine.
   “You can bother the boy later,” Lady Agnes said, and I looked up just in time to see her giving his shoulder a punch. It was strange to see the two stand side by side. Agnes was the exact opposite of what I’d thought of her to be when I had felt that the Lord might be courting her.
   “It’s even easier with a gun. Are you two even amused by hunting at all?” Lady Agnes asked, looking from her father to Lord Evenus before rolling her eyes.
   “Agnes likes to act like a man in all aspects…” the count trailed as I walked towards them to get the bag. “Even in bad habits like boosting and drinking.”
   I felt bile come up my throat as I tied the sack. Flies had already started looming on the bloodstains, and the pool of red made by the flesh hanging off the side of the bag. I still had to find a way to stuff the two baby deer that had been shot down into individual bags. We had come with four horses, and one was Bessa who was old and couldn’t carry much weight.
   “I boast because I have cause to, and I also hold my beer very well, thank you,” Agnes said, laughing with her father.
   Lord Evenus didn’t seem amused by the banter, he leaned against a tree, sipping water from the bottle be had brought with him. He tucked it away soon, looking over at the Count and his young daughter before pulling his black hood over his head. My heart skipped a beat at that. I had to look away and swallow the spit that had built up at the back of my mouth. He looked exactly like this when he had seen me in the snow three years ago—black breaches, red doublet and hood cap that covered everything but his mouth and roman nose.
   “Do you need some covering?” The Lord had asked me by the crossroads that winter three years ago. “I don’t need all of these, you can have one,” he had said, before letting me look through the bag he was carrying. I had picked a deer’s hide that day, and my mother had used it to make a little coat for my younger sister.
   I was pulled out of my memory by a high-pitched whistle that came from the Lady. I looked up to find the trio walking to the horses they had tied to tree barks by leases. I hurried to stuff the deer into the remaining sacks before tying up all for bags. I was soon relieved from my duty by Lady Agnes and Lord Evenus who hoisted the tied sacks and walked over to the horses with them. Agnes took the two sacks with deer, Lord Evenus and the count took a sack of small game each.
   I still couldn’t ride, so my horse was leased to Evenus’ and I found myself gripping on Bessa’s reins as the lord’s Black horse pulled us. Lady Agnes and her father were both in front. Their larger horses walking in front and leading the way back to the castle.
   The Count and his daughter were leaving the day after tomorrow. I heard them discuss it while I stood in the background of the common room serving them tea and biscuits as they spoke to the Lord this morning before getting ready for their hunting trip.
   “Manfred was it?”
   I looked up, hearing my name from the Count in front.
   “Yes sir,” I said, and the man hummed, waving his hand in a dismissive manner.
   “Just checking,” the Count said, making me raise a brow before turning to Lord Evenus. He didn’t seem fazed by the odd correspondence. He looked on ahead, matching his horse forward.
   “You look nothing like Sawyer,” The count said without context. I peeked at the Lord again, and this time he had reacted. His hands had gone tight on the reigns, and his lips had been drawn into a thin line. His eyes shooting daggers at the Count’s back.
   I looked away, wondering who Sawyer was. An ex-lover? Probably. The thought didn’t bother me as much as I thought it should. It was expected that he must have had a lover in his life at some point. He was six and thirty. Old enough to be married with children, even.
   “I’ve only heard about that man by name alone, so I can’t weigh in,” the Lady said from her horse, and I heard the Lord let out a sigh in front of me. Them discussing the man—whoever he was—was giving seemed to be upsetting him. I looked down at the reins in my hands and tugged them in the direction I wanted Bessa to go while giving her sides a jog like the Lord had shown me to if I wanted her to move. To my surprise, she did, and soon my leg was brushing the fine hairs on Evneus’ horse’s side. The Lord turned to me, raising a brow in confusion.
   “I’ve learned to steer,” I muttered in a soft voice, and watched as a small smile graced his face. He reached out to touch my hair, and soon we were in our own bubble, ignoring the chatter of the father and daughter that had wandered further away from us as we lagged behind.
   However, when we reached the castle grounds and got down from our horses, my mind wandered back to the Sawyer person. I wondered if he was like Alistair to me. I wondered if what had happened to Alistair had happened to him. A lump formed in my throat as I thought about it, but I shook my head before giving Bessa a pat on the stomach. With that, I left the stables and went into the castle through the back door in the kitchen. As I did my chores, I listened to the singing from the west wing—letting the melodies drown the bad memories forming in my mind.
   One thing I had done after Alistair left was to numb myself. I threw myself into work. I helped my mother and father, and I took part in the congregation. For a long time, I forgot, and soon Alistair became a prickly pain that showed itself once in a blue moon when something would remind me of him.
   In this case, it was someone.
   I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, frowning at the corn I was peeling its back husk from. Marie wanted to send the Count and his daughter off tomorrow with a grand brunch, so I’m helping her prepare for cooking tomorrow before it got too late. Looking from the windows, one could see the low clouds and the moon casting silver light on the grounds that had been colored the darkest of blues.
   “Are you going to see Evenus tonight?”
   I blinked looking over at Marie who was chopping meat on a board at the kitchen slab. She turned, giving me a smile before looking back at her work. The sound of the blade in her hands colliding with the tender chicken flesh filled the air.
   “Aren’t you going to say something?” she asked me, pausing what she was doing. I looked down at the freshly peeled corn in my hand as the silence pierced my ears. My gaze lingered on the yellow corn kernels—counting them as I bought myself time to recover from the shock of Marie’s question.
   “How do you know?” I asked, looking back at her again.
   “He told me when I filled his bath yesterday,” she said in a matter of fact tone, before cleaning her hands on the apron she was wearing. The action stained the cloth with the chicken blood that had gotten on her hands from the meat.
   “You’re doing a lot of good for him,” she added before raising her hand in the kitchen bowl. “It’s been years—”
   “Marie!”
   The older woman looked in the direction of the kitchen door. It seemed that the Count was requesting for her.
   “When you’re done peeling the back of the corns put them in the bucket and cover them up. Thanks for your help,” the woman said as she took off her apron.
   “Marie!”
   “I’m on my way, sir!” The kitchen door creaked open, and soon Marie had left through it, leaving an echo of footsteps behind her. The sound faded, and I was left alone by myself. I looked away from the door, dropping the peeled corn in the bucket by my side before picking another one.
   It’s been years since what? I wondered, caressing the green husk of the corn in my hand as I wondered what Marie was going to say. Was she going to tell me about Sawyer? I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath before opening them up again and focusing on the task I had ahead of me. It did nothing to quench my curiosity, though.
   God, I wanted to know who Sawyer was.
   Fragments of his past that he had just relayed to me lingered in my mind, refusing to let me be.
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