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            “What is that?” Heather asked, looking over Scarlet’s shoulder.

            Scarlet blinked. “I don’t know.” She tried to pry the object from the ring, but her fingers were too big.

            “Here.” Heather quickly bent over and grabbed something off the floor. “Use this.” She handed Scarlet a bobby pin.

            Sometimes, messy bedroom floors came in handy.

            Scarlet took the bobby pin and carefully slid the object out of the ring.

            It was a rolled up piece of paper—like a tiny scroll. For a moment, Scarlet just stared at it. The paper could be anything.

            It could be good.

            It could be evil.

            It could be the undoing of all mankind—

            “Open it!” Heather demanded, sinking her nails into Scarlet’s shoulder.

            Scarlet slapped Heather’s fingers away as she took the scroll in her hand and slowly unrolled it.

            For a moment, they both stared at the aged piece of paper, cocking their heads to the side and squinting their eyes. It was quite small, only about four square inches, yellowed with time and ripped on one side. Stained on the edges, it had faded markings in the center that looked like a picture of….

            “Is that…an apple tree?” Heather leaned in closer.

            Scarlet tilted her head. “I think so.”

            A tree took up most of the scroll space. Drawn in brown, the trunk was thick and had lines running down the center, giving it dimension. The branches extended out across the majority of the scroll, each branch dotted with leaves and more lines. An apple hung from a branch at the top right, and water surrounded the trunk.

            “Why would your mother shove an old drawing of an apple tree in her shiny ring thingy?”

            Scarlet continued staring at the picture. “I have no idea.”

24

            It had been nearly a month since Scarlet and Tristan’s encounter with the earl’s men in the woods, and they had spent nearly every day together.

            Tristan was quickly becoming a permanent part of Scarlet’s heart. Which completely terrified her. She knew, one day soon, he would leave her. He would grow to have responsibilities. He would marry a proper woman and start a family, a life, without her. It would happen.

            But until it did, he was her hunter.

             “Up here, Hunter.” Scarlet called from a tree limb above him. Tristan looked up and smiled at her in puzzlement. “What are you doing in the trees?”

            Scarlet lifted the corner of her mouth. “Beating you.”

            “It is not a competition, Scar.”

            She loved it when he called her Scar. Like her name belonged to his lips.

            Lips she wanted to kiss.

            “Oh, but it is,” Scarlet said. “Today I shall make a kill before you and it will be heavenly.”

            He laughed. “You are mad, woman.”

            “That I am.” Scarlet moved from one limb to another, Tristan walking beneath her. “Tell me about your family,” she said absently, finding a new perch for herself.

            He pulled at a leaf hanging on a low branch above him. “My family?”

            “Yes. You know all about mine, but I know nothing of yours. Aside from your father being the earl.”

            Tristan nodded. “My father is the earl and he cares more about his estates than he does his children.”

            “Children?” Scarlet looked down at him. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

            “I have one brother named Gabriel.”

            “And what is this Gabriel like?”

            Tristan smiled. “He is impulsive, but good-humored. He is smart with politics and cares about current affairs. He is a skilled archer and competes in all the games.” Tristan wagged his eyebrows up at Scarlet. “And he is in love with a witch.”

            Scarlet grinned. “A real witch?”

            Tristan breathed out a laugh. “He is in love with the daughter of Eli Fletcher, have you heard the name?”

            “Fletcher?” Scarlet’s ears perked up in recognition. “The house of dark magic?”

            “The very same.”

            “Oooh,” Scarlet smiled. “I’m sure your father loves that.”

            Tristan laughed again. “My father hates it. But not just because the house of dark magic is feared by many. My father hates Eli Fletcher, personally.”

            “Why?”

            Scarlet watched Tristan look around at the trees. “My father blames Eli for my mother’s death. Eli gave my father a potion that was supposed to cure her of an illness she contracted when she was pregnant with me. And while the potion did cure her, there were other…side effects, I guess. I’m not exactly sure.” Tristan paused. “But my mother died shortly after giving birth and my father has blamed Eli ever since.”

            Scarlet’s heart went heavy. “How awful for your father.”

            Tristan nodded. “He has held a grudge for many years and now,” Tristan said, looking back up at her with a small smile. “And now, my brother is courting Eli’s daughter, Raven.”

            Scarlet shook her head with a smile. “Is your father furious?”

            “I’m not sure.” Tristan wrinkled a brow. “My father does not believe the two will ever marry. He does not believe Eli will let Raven marry Gabriel any more than he would let Gabriel marry Raven. So it is a happy circle of hatred.” Tristan grinned.

            Scarlet started making her way back down the tree. She liked talking with Tristan, hearing about his life away from her. “Well, personally, I am hoping your brother marries this Raven. They sound like a beautiful mess.” Scarlet smiled as she began lowering herself from the bottom branch, her feet dangling several feet from the ground.

            “Here, let me help.” Tristan brought his hands to her hips to help her down and Scarlet felt lightning zip up her body at his touch. She did not need his help getting back to the ground, but she also didn’t want him to stop touching her.

            Trying not to visibly shiver in delight, Scarlet carefully let go of the branch above her and slowly sank into Tristan’s arms.

            “You like messy love, do you?” Tristan smiled at her as her body slid down his body until her face was square with his and her toes hovered above the ground.

            Scarlet inhaled as she looked into his soft eyes and deep dimples. He smelled like leather and water. “I think,” she said quietly, now that their mouths were close to each other, “that easy and clean love is not true. It is simply convenient. Messy love, though…that is something to revel in.”

            Tristan smiled broadly at her words, his eyes stroking the lines of her face with softness.

            She looked back at him shamelessly, grateful he had not yet set her free of his arms. She liked him holding her against his body. She liked how he smelled of leather and how he made her feel small when they were so near one another.