Gabs had only ridden a horse twice in her life.
Fortunately, the mare that she had chosen was docile and low to the ground.
The dark brown fur of the horse and the tan rags Gabs wore blended the pair into the tree trunks.

The lady was easily followed. Her focus was on what was ahead and not behind. Trading speed for stealth, the snapping of twigs under the hooves, and the occasional snort made Gabs confident.

Gabs reflected, brushing her dirty blonde hair back from her eyes. Like the lady said before, the two were alike. Neither were born to wealth or even knew who their parents were. Gabs was an orphan and only adopted, although some would say sold, to a house of minor nobility.

There, she cleaned the stables and occasionally cooked. Every day, Gabs was occasionally raped by the lord’s son or the stable boys. At the time, that’s all that Gabs knew. She held no belief that she was or would be anything more. And, Gabs thought, she was okay with that.

Despite the work and circumstances, she had clean clothes and a full stomach. As long as she did as she was told, she wasn’t beaten. It wasn’t a spectacular life, but it was a life and there was worse. She wasn’t on the street and have to beg for food. Yes, while she was raped from time to time, it wasn’t constant. Gabs was thankful that she didn’t have a master who rented her to strangers.

Gabs was living. Or, she thought she was.

One day, a passing lord took refuge at her master’s castle. Gabs was assigned to see to their needs. Entering the barn with an armful of blankets, she saw him.

Aldren.

He was like her – thin, dirty, and wore rags. He stood outside the barn door. Staring at the dirt, he occasionally cast glances in the direction of the noise behind him. Every few moments, he sifted under the weight of the heavy and too large breastplate he wore. The armor caused him to sweat profusely. The beads of water across his forehead reflected the light from inside. The halo made him look like a beacon.

And Gabs was in love.

Love was rarely discussed among the servants unless it was connected to physical pleasure and their masters. Gabs knew that the lord loves baths and his child loves sweets. But, could a person be loved? Could she love a person? If she could, Gabs thought, she would love this boy.

“Excuse me,” Gabs presented herself to the boy and tried to hide her red-tinged face in the blankets.
“These are for the men.”

“I’m on guard duty!” The boy proclaimed and thumped his breastplate with his fist. He paused awkwardly before replaying the conversation in his head. “Oh, well. Okay. You can go in.” He smiled sheepishly and caused the droplets around his mouth to roll down to his chin and drip off his face.

Gabs smiled back.