Maybel was in the worst of moods today. She had decided - while her father was cooked up for the whole day, meeting work.. people, or something - to go out and explore port Silverstone. She had never sailed before, and she wanted to be on a ship. She did not want to ride though. She hated getting dirty from stupid horses. They just never behaved when she tried to steer them around. So her grand plan was to bribe one of the Winter family's coach drivers and just be on her merry way. But that idea had been stupid, because she should have known that they would all deny her. Even the promise of the greatest riches would not let them budge.

But the solution to that problem was simple. Just use some other guy's coach. And the first guy that came to mind was her cousin's fiance. Faolan was not really a Winter yet, so her family would not figure it out, right? So she had marched off steaming, cursing out the poor men just doing their jobs, and went to Faolan's estate.

Maybel banged on the door loudly. ‘‘I need your help!’’ She skipped past all the usual decencies. She hoped Alison wasn't around. She hadn't checked. But it was too late now, she had to stick to her plan. ‘‘Faolan, open the door!’’ She didn't even know the poor fellow that well. She had only seen him a handful of times. But everybody that was anybody was known by the Winters. They wouldn't marry off their star child to some nobody.

Nobody responded. Not a single soul opened the damn door. She balled her fist and pouted at the dark wood staring back at her. Not even a servant? Was the whole Pyrrhos family just magically out of town? Even when she dropped his name, he didn't came running. Why not. It was not gentleman like to ignore a woman in distress. But if he wanted to act like a rake, so could she. So she grabbed her skirts and raised them above her ankles when she stepped down the few steps leading up towards the front door and walked through the grass towards the window.

Maybel just had to look over the windowsills to see Faolan sitting all cozy in his living room reading. Was he deaf? He looked so unbothered, which riled up Maybel even more. She knocked on the window, her small posture barely able too reach up high enough. ‘‘I see you,’’ she said, her voice raised when she stared him down. They were soon to be family. He should be happy to chaperone her anywhere she wanted. He better get used to it, because she could make his live a lot more difficult if she wanted to.

This man.. boy... manchild, would be the death of her. And he had just declared war. She had felt a small spark of hope when he stood up. She was ready to make her way back to the front door again. But he just shut the curtains. For a moment she just stood there, mouth wide open in pure bewilderment. How dared he.

‘‘Faolan Pyrrhos, you answer me, right this moment!’’ she shouted in pure helplessness. She didn't care if people could hear or see her from down the street. She didn't care that she was making a big scene. It was Faolan's fault, after all. If her father would hear about this. She stepped back and walked back and front of the window for a few moments. But knowing him, he just would not respond. He was probably back in his comfy chair, reading his stupid book. It was probably about "how to be the biggest asshole in the world". But Faolan wasn't as smart as he looked, because she just walked towards the next window. Now, she just needed a weapon. There were no rules in love and war. And the first weapon she saw, was the sharp end of her heels.

Maybel bent down, balanced on one foot, steadying herself with her other hand against the wall and grabbed the shoe from her left foot, balancing on her right. She kept her left foor in the air and then raised the heel in her hand. ‘‘Don't make me use it!’’ she snarled against the window.

Faolan should learn soon enough that he should not dare her. Because she could, and would, use her weapon. If the window would shatter, he could explain why his living room now was a bit more brisky. A determined face replaced the anger for a moment. She closed one eye and turned her face away, as if she expected her heel would immediately burst through the window. She hurled it as hard as she could towards she glass, but of course it just bounced off and ended up in the grass, out of her grabbing range.

Maybel groaned and tried to reach her heel on one leg as she bend over, one hand on the wall to steady her. But she couldn't reach with her short arms. ‘‘Fuck me,’’ she muttered angrily under her breath. She then made the mistake to try to skip on one heel in grass. She squealed when she tripped, twisted her ankle and dropped down in the grass. Her day was now definitely ruined. ‘‘Faolan!!’’ She was so angry she did not know what to say anymore. Ungracefully she grabbed her heel, which she could reach now, and set back up in the grass.

The door opened eventually and she whipped her hair out of her face while she glared up to her tormentor. She had the most hateful frown on her face, ready to throw hands any second now. If he dared laughing for only one measly second, he would have it. But he was smart enough to make amends and extended his hand towards her. She sat there, staring at it for a good moment, pondering whether she should take it. She set her jaw and narrowed her eyes at him. ‘‘Never,’’ she promised him while she grabbed his hand roughly and pulled herself up, still somehow managing to do in on one foot, while her weapon of choice was secured in her other hand.

Maybel steadied herself against him, bowing down a bit to slip her heel on her foot again. Only when she had two feet on the ground again, she let her firm grip go and straightened her dress. But before he could go run away again, she opened her mouth. ‘‘I'll only accept your apology if you chaperone me to Port Silverstone.’’ As Maybel had promised, she was never done. She could come up with a million excuses why he should do it. They would be family soon, it would be good for them to get to know each other better. Or that he was owed her something for his stupid behaviour. Or that it was going to be so much fun, and that he was withering away reading books all the time. He would refuse them all, she expected. He was lucky he was pretty, or she would really pity Alison for having to marry him.