EXTRACT FOR
Memories of a Tree
(Arian Wulf)

As they drew closer, she noticed that a man was standing in front of the house. His back was turned to them as he looked up at it with his hands clasped behind his back. 



From what she could see, the man looked too young to be the head of the family. 



The longer she stared at him, the more she couldn't shake the feeling that he looked strangely familiar. Something about the hair, long and wavy, begging to be touched.



She froze. 



Oh, no. She had gotten complacent. 



"Well, my wife has certainly travelled a long way." 



Oh no. 



For a wild moment, she considered running. Maybe Lucifer would be surprised enough that she could get through the gate and into the forest. She could hide between the trees. 



But as she stared into the amused, dark eyes of the taller man, she realized how inane the idea was. Lucifer wouldn't even let her get to the gate. As strong as she had gotten over the past few months, she was no match for him. 



It was over.



Well then, she straightened. There was only one thing left to do. She had to talk her way out of this. 



"Husband," she managed to twist her mouth into a smile. "You're here." She probably could have sounded a little more enthusiastic, but she hadn't broken down completely, which she counted as a win. 



Next to her, the servant looked at Lucifer with a confused expression, likely wondering how he had gotten in. She watched as she finally noticed the golden eyes, rare enough that he couldn't be anyone other than their King. She paled rapidly and then, to her amusement, ran into the house with a wide swerve around the king standing in the yard, leaving her alone with the man. 



She looked back at her husband, who continued to stared at her the whole time with an unreadable expression. 



When he saw that he had her attention again, he slowly started to smile. "Of course I'm here," he said. "Where else could I go, when my wife's loyal maid came running and told me about her missing mistress. I had to check if you were alright." 



"That conniving little-" she started, and then clamped up. She bowed clumsily. "I am honored that my lord was concerned about me," she lied. Did he even remember her name? He had been very carefully avoiding calling her by it so far.