She had very nearly missed this wondrous spectacle, thanks to Marie, her little sister who was always asking for one thing or another—this time her favorite kitten. How should she know where the daft animal was? She had helped her look for a few minutes and then hastily left to see Ulric. She sighed contentedly as she focused her eyes on him. The water sluiced down his body, dripping off his lean, muscular torso. She smiled longingly and placing her elbows on the floor, put her face in her hands, a dreamy look taking over her face. If only he would notice her. But Ulric still treated her like a child. She was thirteen. There was hardly any difference in years between them as far as she was concerned. He was nineteen, yet he could not see her for the woman she was. He only had eyes for Mirabelle, her cousin. She pouted. It wasn't fair. Taken in by her father, Ulric had been trained as a knight under the protective care of Arnscroft castle.
