She

In the vast grasslands of Ashmoor, a small herd of wild horses grazed carefree in the tall yellowed greenwilt grass. A lonely eagle, a thousand meters above ground, let out a graceful screech. The uncorrupted beauty of nature in Ashmoor, or was it? A mare in the herd turned her fluffy little ears in a surprised gesture as she looked up from her grassy lunch. Some of the other herd members followed suit, as their peace and quiet was disturbed. There, in the distance, their curious gaze followed metal against metal. Puffs of steam pushed into the air, repeating pumps and an intricate wheel mechanism that raged along the train tracks. Ashmoor's pride in travel. A steam locomotive, pulling multiple train wagons through the Ashmoor landscape. At the end, in a wagon clearly dressed for upperclass travelers, sat the brand new baron of Glimmerhollow. His unharmed leg was bouncing nervously up and down, and his hands were playing mindlessly with a paper card. Decorated with gold-plated accents. For what was probably the hundredth time, he read the message, in gold ink. 'Lord Frederick Eckhart III, Baron of Glimmerhollow. Hereby you are formally summoned for an audience with Lord Edward Winter, Duke of A'-"My lord?”

Frederick, interrupted by his servant, looked up at the man standing at the door of his cabin. "We're nearing Alderrath. We'll arrive within the hour." Frederick took a quick look at his pocket watch and nodded approvingly. "Right on schedule, Bayley, very good. Thank you." Bayley bowed his head. As he was about to leave, his expression turned from content to worried, laying an eye upon the injured leg of his master. "My lord?" He began cautiously. "Are you sure you are recovered enough to travel? The doctor said-". "Nevermind what the doctor said. I'm fine." Frederick sharply interrupted the man, tensing up his jaw. The stern look Bayley received reminded him strongly of the previous baron, but he knew better to mention that. "My apologies, sir." Of course, Frederick hadn't sufficiently recovered, but unfortunately for him, he wasn't really in a position to ignore this request. Everyone knew that the Duke of Ashmoor wasn't the type of man who appreciated corner cutters. Frederick had to do some damage control now because he had almost exclusively cut corners in the last few years of his life, purely to provoke his own father. A good reason to be nervous, really. As it surely played a part in his current mood, but there was a bigger reason for all the adrenaline and cortisal coursing through his veins right now; Alison. Not that he expected to see her today. It was her father who expected him, after all. But still... It was her home too. It was where she lived her life. It was where she could be herself. And today, Frederick would step foot in there...

"You can leave those on the table there." The footman, who was carrying multiple wrapped items, did as the baron ordered him to do and placed the gifts he had brought on the table. A little wooden chest, the Eckhart family crest burned into the sides, with three cold bottles of exquisite white wine — picked from his father's personal wine cellar. A Glimmerhollow specialty wine. Accopanied by two engraved wine glasses. A gift for Lord and Lady Winter. Frederick, who was taken to a drawing room in the winter palace – one out of many, no doubt – added the last gift on the table. A very carefully wrapped gift for their daughter. Just a sign of good will.

Frederick looked around the room, fascinated by its marvels. He was leaning on a walking stick that he carried around to relieve his injured leg. Images of her flashed through his mind: writing letters by the fireplace, spending time with her family and friends, playing with her pets, painting, reading books, living her life...Oh, how he wished he could be a part of it. This very impossible wish and dream, however, was rudely interrupted by the footman. "His lordship sends his appologies. He is unable to meet with you at this time, my lord. Lady Alison will meet with you instead. She'll be with you shortly."

…

Frederick froze. Clasping his cane, causing his knuckles to turn pale white, just like his face. She?... Alone..? He couldn't. A sudden panic fell over him as he was left alone in the drawing room to await the one person he solely desired. The coward. He broke into a cold sweat. Staying was out of the question. He had never been alone with her. And even if they were in each other's vicinity, he had always tried his absolute best to ignore and avoid her. He had to leave before she would see him. He'd make up some excuse at a later time, but now he had to get out of this place. He moved too fast towards the door, exclaiming a sharp hiss. His injured leg protested in pain. He pushed that pain to the back of his mind and reached out to grab the doorknob. However, it was flung - or rather clanged - open by her before he could open it.

There he stood. In the midst of his escape, facing the one person he was escaping from. Clearly – and stupidly – surprised by her sudden appearance. Expecting he had more time.
For a moment, his eyes locked on her stunning green eyes and he felt once more how she had bewitched him, body and soul. He softly uttered her name before he shook his head, regained his straight composure, and bowed his head to her. "Lady Winter." He greeted her stiffly, keeping his gaze down. He couldn't bare to look her in the eye for too long. In a split second, he had returned to his usual distant attitude towards her, hoping she hadn't noticed his slip-up.

With the first sounds of her deep, almost smoky voice, the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. He had heard her speak many times before but was pleasantly surprised every time. It was the kind of deep voice that was so easy to fall in love with—that auditory caramel. It gave her an air of solid confidence. Which she no doubt needed in the life she was born into. Her words, however, made him look straight up at her again. He was indeed busted. By Renestrae.. those eyes... He felt the strings on his soul vibrate like the strings of a piano. Simultaneously a relieve and torture inside. He shifted his gaze slightly to the right, trying not to look her straight in the eye. But now that he had, it seemed like he was unable to look away for too long.

"I certainly was my lady." Frederick confessed calmly without hessitation. He didn't feel the need to lie, and even if he did, he was probably unable to lie to her. He took a half-step back to give her room to enter the drawing room if she so desired. "I was under the assumption I would meet with your father, the Duke, today." He continued, his jaw tensing up a bit. Unable to hide his displeasure. "I'm of the opinion that it's... not wise for us.. to be alone in a room together.." As he tried to form his words carefully, unaware of the slightly ominous way he had put it, his gaze wondered back to those emerald gems they somehow called eyes—who would ever be in their right mind to call them such mundane things?

Inside his head, it was a struggle to keep his thoughts straight, but from the outside, he looked as calm and distant toward her as ever. And now that he stood before her, he took his chance to memorize each and every detail of the woman he secretly loved so deeply and intensely. Like how some stray baby hairs, who had escaped from the intricate braids on her head, curled around her elegant face. Or how the slightly faded summer freakles dotted her nose almost playfully. Or the soft smile line framing her mouth, making him hope she smiled a lot in her life and wishing she would smile for him someday.

He couldn't even begin to count the times he had wished and fantasized about being alone with her. No social expectations and other socialites to entertain. No judgemental looks at every smile or touch or frown or expression. No distractions, nothing. Just them...
Talking, laughing, expressing, toughing, feeling... 
To be able to get to know her. Truly know her.
Dispite his feelings and his secret efforts, he could never really know her like he wanted to, with the distance that he kept. So you would think Frederick would take his chance now, as the opportunity seemed to be presented to him like cake on a platter. 

Frederick was satisfied enough with the Duke's apologies. Rescheduling wasn't an issue. It wouldn't have mattered to him if the palace had sent him back home without a meeting at all. He understood quite well that the Duke was a busy man. He even got behind the idea to sent the heir in his stead. But why, by Renestrae, did she have to come to him. Unprepared as he was to face her. As they stood in the doorway, he noticed how she was observing him. His mind racing to whats she'd think of him in that moment. It couldn't be too positive, as he had certainly seen better days. It frustrated him even more, which he could only give air to by taking a deep breath. Standing there made him more aware of his injury by the minute, and he realized he wouldn't be able to stand there for long. 

She seemed surprised and maybe somewhat offended by his reasoning, though if she was, she hid it well behind a mask of good manners. Better than he ever could. He took a moment to reflect on his words before he answered. "I'm not sure how aware you are of my status and thus my reputation as a bachelor, my lady." It left much to be desired still, at least according to his sister. He knew how he was viewed by many. The rumors had not gone unnoticed by him. Especially since many of them were true. He wasn't particularly proud of them, nor was he particularly ashamed of them. It had always been a means to an end; to spite his father. "I am, however, very much aware of your reputation and status." Oh yes, he was well aware of her engagement to his former friend Faolan Pyrrhos. Despite the fact that he would have preferred to obstruct it, he couldn't. He couldn't do that to her. "I would hate to tarnish your impeccable reputation amongst our friends and the people. Especially if I'm the cause of such rumors." He was fairly surprised by his own honesty. After years of distance and avoidance he somehow couldn't lie, now that he was alone with her. Maybe he never could and he just discovered it now, being alone with her for the first time. "I hope I didn't offend you.." His stern outer layer finally started to soften a bit as he locked eyes with her once again.

His injured leg had slowly started to tremble until he finally couldn't ignore it any longer. He had tried to keep a straight back and a clear voice, but standing so close to her made it so difficult to concentrate on any of it. His stern look finally gave in to the grimace he had been holding back as he more softly exclaimed this time. He was still  able to hold back a satisfying curse word though. "My apologies Lady Winter, my injury.." He quickly moved to a couch near him to sit down. Too quickly. His cane slipped and Frederick lost his balance. Tumbling towards the table with the very breakable gifts he had brought. In a split second he managed to catch himself, with the upper body strength of a true soldier, while simultaneously catching the wine box that got pushed in his tumble. Causing the gift, that had been sitting next to it, to slid of the table. It fell flat on the marble floor with a loud slap. Leaving the little paper label - that read 'Alison', attached with a ribbon in full view.
The baron took a deep breath, relieved that he hadn't gone down with the wine, and pushed himself up again. He limped towards the couch, since he lost sight of his cane. It had rolled under some furniture during his fall. Thankfully the adrenaline rush took away some of the pain he had felt before. "That was a close call.." He said, more to himself than to the heir of Ashmoor. While he looked around for his cane, the expression of relief was quickly followed by a frown, as he felt a bit ashamed. Even if he still wanted to make a run for it, he sure as hell couldn't now.

"Yes, I think it would." He answered while wishing he hadn't. He didn't understand why he couldn't just lie. He'd done it with ease many times before. The majority of the time, little white lies. Here a there a few more grey lies as well. Especially if it was in his interest. And right now, it certainly would've been in his best interest if he had just said something different. Something false but plausible enough for him to leave without being impolite. A forgotten doctor's appointment or something. He was even injured, so it was the perfect opportunity. But no! Today was the day he discovered a newly found truth in every word he shared with the source of his deepest obsession. Which actually should've been a good thing, if it weren't for the fact that he was upsetting her more and more.

Worse men? His eyebrows raised a bit in surprise with her comment, followed by a slight curl of the corner of his mouth. For a moment, he wondered what she exactly meant by it, with a slightly puzzled but amused look in his eyes. ”Hm.” It was probably said in a broad sense, but it sounded a little racy to him. Considering the reputation he was talking about. Perhaps she was truly unaware of its existence. ”I'm only answering your question, my lady. That is... was my reason for leaving.” To him, it was a very reasonable one. Almost
chivalrous, in fact. Protecting her from certain gossip and whispers that many of his female companions and friends had to endure after being seen with him. To be fair, most of those women ended up doing more than just talking with him...
As he calmly continued, he straightened his face to the neutral, stern expression of before. He didn't want to offend her any further by seemingly making fun of it or her. Well, even if he did, he wouldn't get to know. Since, the moments that followed, completely changed the vexatious conversation they were having.

It was just a simple, clumsy fall. Luckily, he was able to catch himself in time, but it was clumsy and quite embarrassing nonetheless. He sure felt a dent in his masculinity now, all because of that cursed injury. It was an unwanted burden he had to carry around now. He wasn't used to it, as he always felt quite capable, secure, and quick on his feet. Nothing like the wounded animal he saw in the eyes of his fellow men when they looked at him. Frederick hated coming across as weak and vulnerable. Especially in her presence. She had a strength that touched many facets of her being. He doubted she would ever come across as weak, even when wounded or ill. Unlike him, who wasn't even able to properly take a seat without almost making a wine-stained mess.

He kept his gaze down again, unable to look her in the eye after the shenanigans from moments ago. Alison was gracious enough not to say anything about it and was even so kind as to hand him his dropped cane. As she handed it to him, he felt it. A slight touch of her finger against his. A simple brushing of the hands. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed, but for Frederick it was enough to make him almost freeze. The words he was forming, a soft ”Thank yo-” stuck in the back of his throat. He swallowed as his brain attempted several times to start up again without much success. She had asked him something that he hadn't even registered at first. So with a belated reaction, he looked up at her with a ”What?” Then his grey-blue eyes fell on the present in her hands, and he felt his stomach drop.

Frederick completely forgot this detail of his appointment with the Duke. A gift for his daughter. It was supposed to be brought to her by the duke or maybe one of the servants. He never meant to be there when she would open it. ”Ah..that.. is a.. present for you my lady.” He quickly glanced at the wooden box on the table. ”Wine for your parents. And this.” looking back at the present and finally back up to Alison, locking eyes with her ”For you.” The reason that he didn't plan on being in the room with her when she would open it was quite simple. Her gift was a lot more personal. Inside the wrapping paper was a collection of special paintbrushes and a palette, made from a specific kind of wood that was mostly found near Glimmerhollow. He loved using this palette himself as well and she probably already had a similar type of palette made from this wood. What made is so personal was the backside. Frederick had painted it with an image of several red poppy's as he knew how found she was of flowers. Or at least, he hoped she was...

He had never meant to be there when she opened his present to her. Frederick wasn't sure if he even wanted to know her reaction. If she would appreciate it. If she would hate it. If she wouldn't care at all. He didn't want to know, because he had made it so personal. Too personal, probably. But out of all the things he didn't want to happen with it, this was probably the worst-case scenario. She was already quite annoyed with him, and every word he spoke seemed to make it worse and worse. So when she snapped at him again, which, let's be fair, was completely justified. Pointing out the obvious could come across as a bit insulting. Especially in the way he had said it. He was distant and a little stiff, as if he meant it to be insulting. He didn't, of course, but that didn't change the fact that he had managed to irk her again. So he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut and just let it all happen.

Frederick sat quietly on the couch while Alison opened the present. Followed by a deafening silence. He could feel his heart beat against his chest every silent second that passed. When she finally looked at him again, he could feel his heart drop. The sudden coldness of her words had washed away every emotion she had shown moments before. All he could do was nod at her final words and turn his gaze back to the floor, while a frown formed above his eyes and the muscles in his jaw tensed up. Biting on the inside of his cheek as she left the room. Lincoln had presented himself next to him as the good servant he was, but the baron didn't make any attempt to get up. He sat there for several minutes, squeezing the cane in his hands, quietly pondering over everything that just happened between him and Alison. Before he finally got up to take the wooden box from the table, and smash it on the floor. Causing the wine to spill and the glass to shatter on the carpet. Without another word, he turned around and walked out of the door. The one thing he should've done from the moment he knew she would meet him today. Something he most definitely would've done if he knew their meeting would end like this. Leaving Lincoln perplexed behind with the mess to clean.