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"They're here!” The tiny boy, bundled in a heavy jacket and boots, leaped out of the branches of the leafless Oulen tree into a cart piled high with golden hay. Plopping to the ground, he hopped up the back steps of the inn and dashed to the kitchen door. "Prince Mahshon and the others are here!" His shrill voice cut through the air as he pulled open the heavy oaken door and stopped on the tattered rag rug just inside. "Mother! The Elves!" he looked up at the careworn face of the woman cutting vegetables at the big old butcher block that stood in the center of the room. "I saw the standard! It's the Prince," he said. His eyes shone brightly with the chill of the evening and excitement of the occasion. "May I watch?"

"Yes, Jay, you may watch the Sidhe," Cassandra said, pronouncing it shee, knowing he would continue to call them elves, "but do not get underfoot," his mother said with a smile. Putting down the knife, she brushed her hands on her apron. "Listen to me, Jay." She knelt at his level and removed a few straws of hay from his hair and jacket. Then she reached out to straighten his jacket and retie the sash. His bright eyes flashed as they met hers. "As soon as the Prince enters the Inn, you must be here to help me with the bread and cheese and the fruit trays.” Her soft lips curled into a smile; her words were lost on the boy. He shrugged away from her attentions and was out the door in an instant.

She would have called him back, but knew her words would be lost on the boy for he was caught up in the moment. Carefully straightening her skirt, she pushed a heavy lock of chestnut hair from her eyes with the back of her hand and looked around the room at the baked pies and tarts, at the piles of desserts and delicacies that were her duty here. She had been working since well before dawn to prepare.

Here, in the small town beside the entrance into the mountain pass, winter was reluctant to release her hold to summer, even on the days before high summer feast. And here, far away from the bustle of the large kingdom towns, opportunities to see the Prince were few. She took a shawl from a peg beside the door, pulled it close around her and moved outside. Her warm brown eyes filled with a special light as she searched the street for a glimpse of Mahshon.

She breathed in the crisp air and the myriad odors surrounding the inn. Even she could certainly spare a moment—just one moment—to observe the Inn's latest guests as they entered the stable yard.

She and every other woman she knew harbored fantasies of the Sidhe prince. He was timeless; her mother's generation often shared tales of the Sidhe prince that reached far into the past. To mortal minds his longevity was amazing. For centuries, his charm and beauty had drawn many females, mortal and immortal, to his bed. 

With a sigh, she remembered a midwinter's feast years before when she had given herself to the sapphire-eyed charmer. She and many other men and women made their way to the clearing where the Sidhe gathered with the other races to celebrate the longest night of the year.

Pulling her cloak close around her shoulders, Cassie darted to the center of the glen and looked around with delight. Which way to turn first? Dancing, singing, musicians and exotic food and drink, so different from her daily fare, all were equally attractive. In the excitement of the moment, one of her girlfriends grabbed her arm and they ran gaily into the circle of dancers, to clasp hands with dwarves, Sidhe and tiny woodland faeries. Faster and faster the magical peoples whirled, kicking their legs high and moving through steps impossibly quick and light to follow. The humans tagged vainly along; good dancers in their own realm, where the dances were a mere imitation of these movements. The movements imitated the tumbling flight of sparrows and leaves carried by the wind; mimicked the fishes leaping into the air from the water of rushing mountain streams, that the girls giggled as they flew alongside the others.

Two lines separated and the males surrounded the smaller circle of females. It occurred to her that their hands would touch and her imagination rushed to flood her cheeks with high color. And then she was in his arms. The prince, laughing and dancing, lifted her feet from the ground. His eyes flashed into hers and she knew. She knew he would have her and she him this very night.