It was a rather bleak afternoon that autumn Sunday when he first saw her. Not usually moved by beauty, he caught sight of her while he was gathered with the Barons. They were in the reception hall outside of the cathedral following Sunday worship. She was in the distance, yet close enough to discern her luminous skin, and the light reflecting from her hair. The silky tresses were sable in color, with golden and crimson flickers of light. She had no adornment and she didn't need it. There was something about the way she could communicate from a distance with her eyes. The way she dropped her eyelids, then glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. They spoke, those eyes, the color of moors on a misty spring day. He took notice. He has never taken note of a woman before. A hunger formed burning like torches in those dark hazel eyes.

Guy noticed this too. Anyone who knew him found themselves casting their glances at him. None of them had seen what they were witnessing together. He ignored Guy, as he took in the sight of her, until he was ready to break the spell.

"The lady in the distance, cousin. The one who wears a black and burgundy gown. Who is she?"

"I'm not sure. She is new in the village. I've seen her. She lives on the outside of the village not far from the castle walls in a smaller estate. That's all I know."

"Very well. I can do the rest." He replied returning his gaze.

Just then he was distracted by a remark from Baron Amos from the North. The next he looked for her she was gone. He started to walk to find her.

She moved to another room off the marbled torch lit reception hall. She was almost overcome when she glanced to the left and saw a dark prince in the distance returning her gaze. He was tall and lean, and appeared dark and mysterious. Framing his face was jet black hair tousled in loose waves that fell to his collar, and a neat beard. He fixed his gaze on her with dark piercing eyes. He was confident, strong, and fiercely attractive. One glance and she felt her knees weaken, her mouth go dry, and her heart quicken. She'd never seen him before. She could tell by his dress and the way he carried himself he was not a person of want. That wasn't what interested her. She asked her lady Rebeccah.

"Who is the man in black Rebeccah?"

"Why my lady? You do not know? That is the Sheriff of Nottingham!"

"No….I. Hmm…."

Rebeccah noticed her blush, avert her eyes. She knew it was no use. Milady was smitten.

"He is not married, or betrothed Milady."

"It's of no use to me." She replied.

"Oh. Really?"

"I'd never seen him. Just curious, Rebeccah. Excuse me." And it was then she caught him glancing her way. She became flustered. When he was interrupted she quickly found a path to exit the hall, then through the doors leading outside to the courtyard.

Out in the courtyard, she found herself moving towards the roses at the garden wall. The mists that day enhanced their scent, and touched her cheeks. She reached out and grasped a white rose. She pulled it toward her to inhale the intoxicating scent, unaware of the man approaching from back of her.

"My lady?"

"Oh." She turned around to face him. Standing this close to her, he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Dressed in black and gold. His scent was a combination of musk and new English leather.

"I'm sorry I startled you my lady."

"It's alright." She maintained his gaze.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm George, the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"How do you do sir? I'm Rhiannon of the North." He took her hand and kissed it.

"Lady Rhiannon. A beautiful name, for such a beautiful lady."

"Yes." She had to look away. He couldn't see her cheeks flush.

They stood for awhile making conversation. When she remarked on the beauty of the roses he said "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me? There is still much to see that I seldom have a chance to admire in such captivating company."

"I'd like that my Lord." She said as she took his arm.

"So you live here?" she asked as she gestured toward the castle.

"Yes, with a few servants. And you milady?"

"I live not far from here my Lord. In a smaller castle. Alone, with a lady in waiting."

" No family, milady?"

"No. What was left of them died in the crusades." She replied.

"I'm sorry milady."

"That's just the way things must be my Lord."

"You seem well adjusted despite everything. You remain so, untouched. Refreshingly…." His voice trailed off to a whisper. Then he spoke in a whisper almost to himself "Such a simple word to describe it. I cannot put it into words."

He stopped to look at her, take in her beauty. His eyes glistened in a moment of desire. He felt weak. Weak and vulnerable for the first time. And captivated. In a way, trapped by her beauty, and his desire.

"My Lord?" she returned his gaze, pleading for him to let go. Reveal what she thought he may be thinking.

"Milady…" he advanced toward her.

"Yes?" she let it trail off. Not wanting to talk anymore. He took his cue, softly caressing her face, and leaned in closer. He kissed her then. She caught her breath. She suddenly needed him. It didn't seem to last. Just then the rain began. They paused and gazed upon each other's eyes. She was almost giggling, and the Sheriff noticed, completely unfazed by the rain. He found her ability to savour the moment refreshing. He smiled back, and the rain fell harder. He grabbed her by the hand and lead her to a sheltered covered passageway that divided two sections of the castle. She would be better protected there.

"Afraid of a little rain Sheriff" she playfully asked.

He chuckled. "I've weathered most of the elements in battle my Lady. I didn't bring you here for my sake."

"You're confusing me with other maids my Lord. We are not all cut from the same cloth."

"Yes. I see that now."

She looked up at him, and again almost lost her breath. He was tall in stature. Lean, yet muscular. His silky tousled dark hair fell to his collar in loose waves that framed an exquisite face. His eyes were hazel but dark enough to still capture a mystery about him. His slightly large nose didn't detract from his looks. Perhaps because it was offset by perfectly shaped full lips that upturned into a smirk, framed by a neat beard that added to his dark mysterious quality. She lowered her gaze and smiled to herself. She was amazed this man was standing before her, protecting her, wanting to be near her.

He put his gloved hand under her chin and tilted it up toward him. "My Lady." He said softly "Are you well?"

"Yes." She whispered. For she was sure her knees would buckle. "Fine thank you, my Lord."

"You're trembling, Lady Rhiannon." He remarked in a concerned manner.

"Yes…I….my Lord….maybe it's the chill in the air?" she lied.

With that he removed his heavy black brocade cloak and placed it around her shoulders. "Come my Lady Rhiannon. I must bring you in from the cold. And I have just the thing." He said with a smile. She lifted her eyes to meet his. Soft, glistening pools of aqua. Glazed with desire. He sensed it from her, and felt the same toward her.

He lead her down an alleyway between two wings of Nottingham Castle. They arrived at an entranceway on the north side. Once inside the familiar dark torch lit halls, he lead her upstairs on a circular staircase and through a heavy oak door. Inside was a roaring fire, soft velvet couches, and a table that contained the following: goblets, a decanter, and a burning candle on an ornate cast iron holder.

"It's welcoming my Lord." She remarked as she cast her gaze around the expanse of the room. "Is this where you entertain?"

"No my Lady." He began "We are right outside my private chambers. Right through that door, over there." He said as he pointed to the oak doors at the back of the room, across from the fireplace where the furniture was assembled. "Nobody has ever entered this room."

"Oh." She cried out softly. "I really mustn't be here my Lord."

"It's quite alright my Lady. Nobody knows you're here. You're my guest and it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of it."
"Well, I suppose you're right my Lord." She agreed.

He lead her toward the overstuffed couch. "Come rest my Lady. I have just the thing. "Brandy?"

"Yes, that might help….uh, this chill my Lord." She lied again. She watched him. The way he moved seduced her. So methodical and fluid it was like a dance.

"This is what you need my Lady." He said as he handed her the goblet.

"Indeed." She replied back as she looked up at him touching his fingers lightly as she found the cool metal. He licked his lips and loosened his collar.

"Drink my Lady." He said. "It is sure to warm you, and rid you of that chill that makes you tremble so."

"Yes." She agreed weakly. Though, it was not the chill in the air that caused her to tremble.

She sipped the fiery liquid letting it slide down her throat, slowly warming her. She began to relax. "Have you always lived in the castle my Lord?" she asked

"Yes, since I was a small boy." He replied. "I don't mind having to leave it if necessary on occasion. It's so large and empty."

"My home is not as vast as yours, but I think I understand." She agreed wistfully.

"I've not seen you before Lady Rhiannon. How long have you lived in the village?"

"Not long my Lord. Six months now. I like it. It reminds me a little of home, but it's just enough of a change. I left because there was nothing keeping me there." She said sipping slowly on the brandy. " I just started wandering, south, and then I ended up here. Not really sure why, but this is where my journey brought me to."

He drew his knee up and looked her up and down. "All eventually gets revealed in time my Lady Rhiannon." She did that thing again with her eyes. It sent chills down his spine. She was so seductive, but he knew she was completely unaware.

"Yes, perhaps."

"Has it always been hard on you." He asked

"Only the last six years, yes." She began. "My mother died giving me life. My father gave into the strain of a broken heart and died when I was eight. I was close to my brothers. Robert was eight years older than me and he took over the role of head of household when father died. Then there was Edward. He was two years younger than Robert. Much less serious, light hearted, the family jester." She paused and sighed. The Sheriff smiled. She was so animated relaying her story. Then, something in her changed, a shadow leaped across her face. "But a part of him died when father died." She interrupted his thoughts "Of course they had been through our mother's death. It was the one event that separated us. I couldn't share it with them. After some time, Edward became himself again and things were light and merry at home. We never wanted to be apart. We agreed our future spouses must agree to be neighbours." She drew the Sheriff's cloak closer about her shoulders. "Then the crusades lead them to follow King Richard. Six years ago. Six months after that I received word that Edward died in battle. I got used to managing our home alone. But I kept going because of Robert. A year ago I received word Robert was coming home. When he was en route, storm arose. His ship capsized."

"Oh my Lady." The Sheriff said as his face softened.

"I had five wonderful years with Robert and Eddie. It hasn't always been this way. But the last six years have been torture." A beat. "Until now." She said lifting her eyes to meet his. He smiled. She flushed. Then she cleared her throat. " I really must go my Lord. It was kind of you to endure my ramblings." She glided to the door. It was too late. He was right behind her. His hands on her shoulders, that unmistakable scent again. His breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear, "My Lady. Don't go. For I knew when I first saw you that our paths were meant to cross."

She stiffened. Her eyes wide. Her mouth agape. She felt warm. This couldn't be real. This man. This dark prince was making love to her. He was as enthralled with her as she was with him. There were few moments of joy thus far. Could this really be happening?

He spun her around to face him. He tilted her chin upward to meed his gaze. He fixed his eyes on hers as he spoke "You know you don't want to leave here." He whispered in a velvet baritone like melted chocolate. "You looked at me once before. In the cathedral foyer following mass. No maid has ever looked at me, the way you looked at me then. You set my soul on fire."