She’d rehearsed it in her head over and over, planning what she would say and do. She’d wondered who might stumble across her tower in the farthest corner of the forest: a woodcutter, or a hunter, perhaps a merchant who had lost his way. Maybe an old medicine woman would be looking for herbs and find her instead.Then he had come and been more than she’d ever dreamed, more young, handsome, and powerful. He was tall and broad; the golden circlet had gleamed in his dark hair, declaring to the world his importance. He had looked up at her with piercing blue eyes from where he sat on top of his horse at the bottom of her tower and she’d known that she would never be the same.He’d climbed her braids, just like the witch had done every day. But with the witch she’d never felt this kind of giddy anticipation. She’d never before been grateful for her masses of hair.He’d smiled at her with such an easy, charming smile. She had shyly smiled back. He’d teased her name and her story out of her and told her his.
