Green Lady Preview

How he wished he could maintain such innocent optimism. But all her adamant convictions, all the
years she spent safe under the forest's vaulted ceilings, couldn’t stop him from seeing his parents' horrid,
mangled deaths every time he closed his eyes.
“You're making that face again.” A warm hand fell on his shoulder. Friedrich turned, already knowing
he’d see the rugged face of his closest friend, Wulfram. A broad smile greeted him, spreading slow and lazy
on a face that hadn't been shaved in days. His friend had dark brown hair and amber eyes. Wulfram put a
confidential arm around Friedrich's shoulders, steering him away from the gates and away from the crowd.
“Frowning will age you,” Wulfram said. “Remember, a woman arrives exactly when she means to, never a
moment before.”
“Is that what you tell yourself when you stare out the window every morning? I’m not blind; we grew
up together. I think I knew you loved her before you knew it yourself.”
Wulfram tensed, frowning.
“And for what? Have you asked her to stay? She won't listen to family. But perhaps, if you ask her.”
“I can't ask her to change who she is. You know that.”
“But what sort of marriage could you hope for? And you do intend to marry her, don't you?”
Of course he did. But their conversation was cut short by a commotion at the gates. Friedrich took a
deep breath and paused to adjust his shirt and cloak before heading back to the gate; this gesture elicited a
facetious snicker from his friend.
Searching the gathered crowd, Friedrich spotted a surprising mess of red curls. Yes, this must be her,
the girl whose face was porcelain, her lips soft and pink; her green eyes fell on him, vibrant, honest. Ah, she
was lovely. She reminded him somewhat of his sister—forest eyes, hair untamed—a spirit that simply
wished to bolt. Were all the women he loved destined to be wild things? He wasn't certain he could handle
another forest girl.
From the corner of his eye, Friedrich saw a familiar wave of blond hair, and he forgot everything else.
Cleandra was everything remarkable in Wulfram’s life. What extraordinary disregard she had for
expectations; what an amazing ability to exude fullness and happiness. It wasn't that she was untouched by
tragedy—gods knew, she'd never been the same after her parents' deaths—but rather, she let the forest fill
her with presence and life.