Bjorn

I can’t keep my eyes off her. While my family laughs and jokes with their usual teasing banter, my gaze keeps drifting to the dark-haired beauty with no memory of who she is.

“What should we call you?” I suddenly blurt out before I even realize I’m going to say anything.

She starts, her gaze skipping around the table at my family. “I–I, uh. . .”

“Oh dear,” Ma says, a frown pulling down her mouth. “You don’t remember your name. Bjorn is right. We need to call you something.”

“How exciting,” Linnet chimes in, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “Since you don’t know your name, you can choose any one you’d like.” She glances at Ma. “Can I change my name, too?”

Ma shoots her a quick frown, then returns her attention to our guest. “Do you have any preferences, my dear? Any names that you are particularly fond of?”

The woman had been swirling her food around on the plate with a fork, her head bowed as if trying to escape the conversation.

For a moment, I feel a little stab of guilt for making her uncomfortable, but it quickly eases. I can’t just keep thinking of her as the woman or our guest. She needs a name.

She looks up, her blue eyes showing her discomfort. “I’ve always liked the name Allie,” she says hesitantly.

“Allie,” I repeat quietly. “I like it.”

“It’s a beautiful name,” Ma agrees with a smile.

“Reminds me of the waterfall behind our cottage,” Linnet adds. “Mysterious and beautiful.”

Father stands from the table, putting his napkin next to his plate. “I’ve got to run into town,” he announces. “I’ll be sure to bring back some sugar clouds for tonight’s supper.”

Ma stands as well and starts clearing the table of dirty dishes.

“Sugar clouds?” Allie asks hesitantly, glancing between Father and me.

“You don’t know what sugar clouds are?” Linnet sounds almost offended.

Allie shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

“How do you not know about sugar clouds?” I narrow my eyes. “It’s the most popular sweet treat in all of Caerwyn.”

It’s only because I’m watching her so closely that I see the brief flash of anxiety flare in her eyes. Her mouth opens, but before she can say anything, Ma decides to start scolding me.

“Leave the pretty lady alone, Bjorn.” She waves a bowl at me for emphasis. “It’s obvious she’s had quite a shock. Instead of pestering her, show Allie around the place.”

Relief floods Allie’s features, making me even more curious about her. Something about her memory loss doesn’t make sense to me, but I can’t figure out what it is.

Not yet, anyway.

“I apologize, Allie,” I say, meeting her gaze directly. “I’m just having a hard time remembering your. . . uh. . . condition. Since I’m so distracted by your beauty.”

Ma beams happily, but Allie doesn’t even flinch, or blush. Instead, she meets my gaze with a bit of curiosity, as if she is trying to read me the way I’ve been trying to read her.

It’s hard to think she hasn’t run away from the home of someone powerful, but it’s even more difficult to explain what she was doing in the field, naked.

The anklet she wears is made of gold and precious stones that could only have come from the Spice Channel to the north of Caerwyn.

She didn’t get it from a peasant. Someone with wealth had to give it to her. Or she’s from a noble family and bought it herself.

That family could be looking for her, even as we sit at the dinner table now and discuss who she really is.

“Oh, Brother!” Linnet chirps, drawing my attention. Her dark blue eyes dance with mirth as she shakes her head from side to side. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

I ignore my sister and get to my feet. After taking my dirty dishes into the kitchen and receiving a grateful smile from Ma, I walk over to Allie and hold my hand out.

“Care to take a tour?” I ask.

She glances at my outstretched hand and her lip curls up in a slight snarl. The look is gone almost as soon as it appears, but I know I saw it, and it makes me wonder what’s going on in her mind.

She doesn’t take my hand. Instead, she rises from her chair and moves away from me.

“I’d like that,” Allie says. Her tone is pleasant, but I get the impression she doesn’t really like the idea at all. Or she just doesn’t want to explore with me.

I shrug it off and step aside, holding my arm out as a gesture for her to go ahead of me. After a brief hesitation, she does so.

I notice Allie doesn’t clear her dirty dishes from the table. Another indication that she’s not just an average farm or peasant girl and is probably used to staff picking up after her.

“You’ve seen most of our home,” I say as we step outside and I take a deep breath of the fresh air. “So I thought I’d take you back toward the field where I found you.”

She jerks her gaze to mine, a mixture of puzzlement and alarm briefly flashing across her delicate features.

“I thought maybe it might help you recover your memory,” I say. “From there, we can go through the apple orchard and to the waterfall. The one Linnet thinks is like your name.”

Allie doesn’t say anything. A slight shudder shakes her frame and she wraps her arms around her chest.

She has her back to me so I can’t see her expression, but the stiffness of her slender shoulders shows just how uncomfortable she is.

When she turns to face me, her glacial blue eyes look haunted.

“When I woke up here, there was a scar on my body,” she says softly, but twin grim lines whiten the sides of her mouth.

“A scar?”

She nods. “A fresh scar. Someone must have hurt me. Maybe that person knocked me over the head, causing me to lose my memory.”

I study her from head to toe. Her long, inky black hair is pulled back into a thick braid, exposing her neck.

Linnet loaned her the dress she’s wearing now. While it covers her body modestly, her lower arms are still bare beneath the brown material. No scars there.

My eyes travel lower, past her trim waist, where the dress cinches in and is accentuated by a silver chain loop around her middle. From there, the skirt flares out around her hips and stops short a few inches from her ankles.

Linnet is several inches shorter than Allie, so the dress doesn’t cover her shoes, a pair of sturdy boots with scuff marks here and there. Still, no scars. Anywhere .

I don’t ask her to show me the scar though, because obviously it’s covered by her clothing.

“You don’t remember anything?” I ask, returning my gaze to her face.

She shakes her head. “Just darkness and. . . and a flash of green.”

“Green?”

She nods as I lead us away from the field and into the apple orchard. “A flash, you say? Did it last long? Was it big enough to light up the sky?”

She chews her bottom lip before answering. “It’s hard to describe. It’s more like the flash was behind my eyes instead of. . .”

Allie breaks off as if she doesn’t know how to finish her explanation.

“Instead of like a lightning bolt?” I ask.

She startles and shoots me a glance, then shrugs. “Yes. I suppose that is a good description.”

As we walk through the orchard, I stop and pick an apple. After a brief hesitation, I hold it out to her.

“For me?” she asks with surprise, and I nod.

She gingerly reaches out and takes the apple. There are a few small red spots, left over from when it had originally started growing in the summer.

“I think this is the time when they taste the best,” I say. “The apples haven’t quite lost their summer skin, and their sweetness blends in with the snow skin’s slight tartness.”

Allie gingerly tastes the apple as we continue through the orchard. Her eyebrows arch in pleasure and a smile teases her mouth – the first I’ve seen. She always seems so aloof.

Her eyes widen as we break through the orchard and step onto the grassy bank of the waterfall. The apple slips unnoticed from her hand, bounces on the soft grass and lays there, forgotten.

She looks like she’s never seen a waterfall before. I watch in amazement as she stands there, her eyes wide with wonder. With arms stretched out beside her, she spins in a slow circle. Her head tilts back and her long, black hair trails behind her.

She looks as innocent as a child against the backdrop of the waterfall. Because it’s almost winter, the water isn’t rushing as fast as when the rains come. But there’s still plenty flowing over the rocky cliff to splash into the pool and against the rocks on the side.

As I watch Allie, I realize that whatever secret she may be hiding–if there is one–she’s still innocent, injured and scared. No one can fake the wonder glimmering in her eyes, as if she’s a babe experiencing the world for the first time.

My heart squeezes. Maybe she isn’t lying.

And if that is true, then my honor demands I protect her.