Word Count: 562

She met him again when he was a mere child of ten.

Lucasta hopped from the carriage that came to a stop just beyond the gates which enclosed a charming stone manor house and the surrounding acreage. She saw the boy before he noticed her, at play with the girl-child Lucasta remembered as a toddler. The boy shielded his eyes behind his hands under the branches of an old oak tree, counting aloud while the girl scampered about searching for a place to hide.

They were both blonde; Lucasta could see that even from afar—fair strands that gleamed like pale gold under the sun. She could not see the color of their eyes from this distance, but knowing their parentage she expected them to be blue. They were pale children, but healthy. Their skin had a rosy glow. They looked well-fed, their clothing looked well-made and comfortable, and they each sported a pair of new shoes. Most important of all, they looked happy. They were cared for, whether or not they had ever known their real parents.

Lucasta hung back a few moments and watched them play. Behind her, Lord Albert Barrengar descended the carriage steps, clothed as always in dark robes and a severe disposition. He stalked passed Lucasta without a word, eyeing the children with such coldness and distance no one would have suspected he was their real father.

The boy turned when he was finished counting. In his haste to find his sister he did not notice either Lucasta or Lord Barrengar, with the result that he crashed right into Albert's legs. The boy went sprawling to the ground. The girl peeked out from her hiding spot in a nearby bush.

“We will share a name,” Lucasta remembered Palatine saying of the boy. “I will call him Liesel.”

In Lady Palatine's native land, the name mean “my God is an oath.”

It was somewhat fitting, given the oath Liesel would one day be expected to make.

Lucasta approached the boy on the ground. So busy was he looking up at the severe form of Lord Barrengar that he did not notice Lucasta until she brushed against his arm. Liesel's head snapped down to look at her, and the terrified expression that had crossed his face at the sight of Albert diminished. A small smile quirked his lips; he reached out a single hand to pet her between the ears.

When they touched, Lucasta felt the bond between them strengthen, like her heart was attached to his by a thread that knotted them closer together. A single heartbeat pulsed between them. Lucasta could see that Liesel noticed; his lips parted and his eyes widened in wonder.

Suddenly, upon his forehead there glowed the symbol of his people—golden like the sun which glowed above.

“He is ready,” Lucasta said.

The girl-child scurried out of her hiding spot to approach her brother, but Lucasta paid her little mind. Albert spared her no more than a glance.

From the manor house they heard the sound of the front door opening, and a comely woman with brown hair and green eyes descended the front steps. By the look of devastation upon her face, Lucasta was sure the woman knew the reason for their visit.

“He is a child,” the woman said.

Albert shook his head and answered without feeling, “He is Ganymede.”