Melior of Milana

One

I am almost there when I catch a glimpse of him. He is standing by the stream gently stroking his horse as his horse drinks water from it. His horse is a big and powerful animal. It is the man stroking him that takes my breath away though. I stand frozen on my spot unable to breathe as I study the man. To call him perfection is perhaps an understatement. He is stroking his horse and whispering soft encouraging words to him. I can only see his profile from where I'm standing. He has the most beautiful face I have ever seen. His dark hair is covering his eyes as he's bent over to talk to his horse. He has high cheekbones and sharply chiseled features as if they had been carved from stone. His tall body is sinewy and muscled. He is wearing dark clothing, worn by most men on a long journey. He must be a warrior from one of the neighboring kingdoms I surmise. After struggling with myself, I manage to stop staring at him. I am surprised at myself. It's true that even from this distance he is the most perfect man I have seen. However, I have never been interested in men. My entire life has been focused on running my kingdom. I turn around and force myself to walk away from this all too alluring vision in front of me. I turn around and take a few steps when I hear his voice.

"Wait! Please don't leave."

I freeze at his words. I chide myself for being so loud that he became aware of my presence. I turn around and am surprised to see that he has moved and is standing directly in front of me now. I lose my breath for a moment. He is even more beautiful closeup. His eyes which had been hidden by his hair are now looking straight at me. They are the darkest shade of blue I have ever seen. For the first time in my life, I feel my knees going weak under me and I find myself unable to articulate words as I stare at his mesmerizing face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I am not scared!"

I say this perhaps a little more forcefully than I had intended to. Being taken aback by beauty is one thing, being labeled scared is a whole other thing. My whole life I have made sure everyone around me knows that I am not scared. I am never scared. The only time I was ever scared was that one time in my childhood. It taught me that scared people make the gravest of mistakes. I will never let myself be in that position again.

To my surprise, the man in front of me laughs at my stern expression.

"My mistake. I thought perhaps my horse and I had scared you from coming to the stream. We were just leaving. Please feel free to use it."

I nod surprised by his easy charm. One of the first things I learned in court was to never let your guard down. Never let your opponent know what you were really thinking. I study the man in front of me. He seems so comfortable with himself. No pretensions of any kind. He is studying my face, but whereas I am wary of his presence, he seems amused by mine.

I nod woodenly and move towards the stream again. I feel his eyes on my back as I kneel by the stream and scoop up water in my palms to drink it.

"I have some bread and cheese that I'm happy to share if you'd like to break your fast with me."

There he is again, a lot closer to me than I had expected. How does he move so soundlessly? For an instant, I am alarmed by his stealthy movements and my hand automatically reaches for my dagger hidden in my cloak. Once again he seems to know my intention and laughs softly.

"I merely offer the lady half of my morning meal. If you don't like bread and cheese, simply say so. There is no need to kill me."

I stand up straight and glare at him. Is he mocking me? It's hard to tell. I start to walk away, the hand under my cloak still clutching my dagger.

"At least tell me your name before you go.." he says softly.

I hesitate. What could the harm be in telling him my name I wonder.