April 5 1312
Sometimes I feel all alone, as if no one else in this world existed. Is it merely just me? Am I so different from the rest of the world? No one seems to understand. I feel completely alone.
Evelyn Hest.
Evelyn Hest was the most curious girl. She was born of royal Italian blood and of peasant British blood. Her mother was the Italian king's cousin, and his favorite relative, before she had Evelyn. Her father, Arthur Hest had a small farm where he grew a vast selection of herbs to heal with.
Evelyn's mother, Marry-Anne, had high hopes to be queen. Therefore she could not have a bastard child to watch. So Evelyn lived the simple, well not at all simple, but a peasant life with her father.
Evelyn Grow up very oddly. She hated every yearly visit with her mother, her mother did not enjoy them either, but she made sure Evelyn was growing up to be prober lady. Marry-Anne had all the wedding arrangements in mind. Evelyn however was strong willed and determined. But she was also very beautiful, and with a deadly mixture of wit. She is the most bewitching girl ever to walk the earth, even to a witch.
Though she was beautiful not many men tried with her. They all knew of her brutal hostility, but there was one with almost as much determination as Evelyn, and he took the challenge of trying to make Evelyn his wife. He is Lord Witlock heir to the throne of England, and he had his eyes set on Evelyn. Evelyn however, did not care the least bit.
She did not wish to marry, in less she had the deepest compassion for her partner. What she didn`t know though, was that her whole life would change this summer. For now however she was in the garden collecting various herbs, until her father came rushing in with news he thought was good.
"Evelyn! Lord Witlock has invited us to a formal dinner! He is proud of our work healing illnesses."
Evelyn twirled her hair then gave a smirk. She had seen all those secret glances thrown to her and knew it was a matter of time before she would be invited to dinner, although she had thought it would be for the real reasoning, not a hastily made up story.
"Proud of our healing," She arched her eyebrows," I, do not think that this is his real reasoning for the invitation."
Her father ignored her and said, "Have Emily dress you in her finest silks!"
"I will go to dinner in no more than what wear I to a common supper," her voice had a final tone in it.
Her father looked taken back and surprised that she would not want to dress nicely for royalty, but Evelyn would not dress in silk for a man that, most likely, only wanted one thing from her.
"Do you not want to go," Arthur said in a uncertain voice.
"No I shall go, this will be interesting," she said peering at the surface of a dandelion as if it were some foreign plant.
For the rest of the lazy Sunday afternoon she picked wildflowers for amusement, out in the valley that fell right behind the last herb garden of her father's property. The grasses were tall and well nourished because of the endless streams that ran through the valley. Evelyn often came here to think, usually she stayed sitting on the soft grass, until she had uncoiled every thought to the root idea. She peered into the sky gazing at the glowing rays of the sun that determined it was time to leave, but wrote quickly into her journal.
April 5 1312, why is lord Witlock so keen on me? I will not give him what he wants, but what if he wants marriage? I can only hope greed will not fill me, for I vale that I will not marry for money.
Evelyn Hest
She swiftly made her way back to the house, which in this time of the year was covered with vines, it was hard to even look through the widows, but Evelyn loved this house it is where she had grown up. She ran up the spiral staircase to her attic room. It still had a damp smell from the morning's frost. In the corner was a small wardrobe with a mirror. Evelyn without looking picked out a violet dress.
"Emily, um, could you help me?" Evelyn said, usually she was able to dress by herself, but this dress was one gifts of her mother, and had a Italian style, which she was not familiar with.
Emily the house maid came in swiftly. She and her father were lucky, for most peasants are not able to afford servants, But the herbs they grew did a well job of selling. Their herbs could cure any common illness, and made very good tea packs.
Emily's dark eyes looked surprised, "You do not want to wear something nicer? This is the future king of Brittan."
"And I could be the future queen of Italy," she said sarcastically, although there had been times where her mother came close to power, or even her, now that she is eighteen.
Emily sighed and began on the dress. Emily was Italian and close to forty, she was not married or had kids. She was a mother to Evelyn, she had always made sure got prober lessons in music and dancing, and taught about Italy, encase Evelyn ever did come to power.
Evelyn looked at her reflection and frowned. She was stunning. The violet brought out the different shades out of her grey eyes. Her pale skin simmered in the sunset, and her golden her surrounded her like the main of a lion. She was beautiful.

The sun was setting low when Evelyn’s father called for her to leave. She gave sigh then thought to herself let the show begin. Downstairs her father waited, dressed in his finest clothes, but looked quite shabby in the dim light.
“You look nice, even if it is a simple gown, but I like it,” her father complimented. Evelyn rolled her eyes in frustration; this is not what she wanted to hear. “Shall we take the carriage?”
Evelyn wrinkled her nose; she hated the carriage it was like being stuffed in a covered that moved, it often made her sick. “No I think I could do with a nice walk, besides the house is just up the road.”
Her father looked at her oddly then said, ”But it is nearly night, we will not be able to see.”
Evelyn smiled at the thought of walking at night, there was just something about walking in the unknown that gave her a thrill. “Then we will light a lantern, besides night is the best time to walk.”
Her father shrugged, and then ordered Emily to light a lantern. Once the lantern was lit they walked out of the great oak doors into the moonless black night, where the only light was the flickering flame her father held. Sure enough Evelyn got the thrill she wanted from the refreshing, and glorious night air, she frowned when they descended upon the great mansion that the Witlocks’ owned.
A nicely dressed servant opened the door and led them to a huge dining room, with an even bigger dinner table, with four place mats already set out with name cards them.
Evelyn went over to look at the cards and just as she suspected she was sitting next to the Lord Witlock.
Then he appeared dressed nicer than needed for a simple dinner. His Dark brown eyes looked up and down Evelyn and frowned when he noticed the dress; Evelyn, however, noticed his eyes and did not care the least bit. Then he took her hand and kissed, she pretended to blush, but she found this most disturbing. Next he shook hands with her father, who had a wide grin on his face; Evelyn just looked bored, even though she unsuccessfully tried to hide it.
“Shall we sit?” Lord Witlock motioned to the chairs and they all sat, ”My father will be here in a moment, he is delayed.” Evelyn’s father’s eyes widened at the thought of meeting the Duke, Evelyn still looked bored, and Lord Witlock looked pleased.
“So Evelyn how is the harvest coming, in this time of the year?” Lord Witlock asked breaking a peaceful silence, and waking Evelyn from her thoughts
“Well Lord Witlock…”
“Call me Samuel that is my real name.”
“Excuse me lord Witlock but I will always address those with titles with their title,” he smiled, she scalded.
“Hello there,” the Duke swept into the room with a cheerful smile.
“Your Grace,” Evelyn mumbled not caring to curtsy, she thought of how ridiculous her mother had looked when she was teaching Evelyn how to curtsy. Her father gave her a tense look, Evelyn smiled, but it quickly faded as she saw the sly grin on Lord Witlock’s face.
“So, what kept you father?” Lord Witlock asked in concern.
“I’ve been discussing ways to bring more money to the town with Joseph, the shop keeper,” The Duke said as the first course was being served.
This automatically stroke an interest with Evelyn, she knew that it was uncommon for women to participate in politics, but she couldn’t help herself, she knew she could change the whole town to be more powerful, and here was her chance, except she did not know if it would be responsible to let men become more powerful. The more powerful they became, the more ruthless they were. Then she noticed the feeling of being watched, as she has had to endure it before. Evelyn turned to her left to see Lord Witlock’s dreamy expression on his face as he watched her. She pieced into his daydreaming with her eyes and woke him up, and then he gave a shy smile.
“Why not sell natural resources to those who do not have them,” Evelyn suggested.
The Duke smiled then said, “My dear we already sell our precious minerals, what else would there to be sell?”
“Why not futile soil that we grow with or the fresh clean water that nourishes it,” Evelyn said simply.
“If we sell those we will not have our own,” he said it to Evelyn as if she were a silly little girl.
Evelyn gave a small and charming smile then said, ”Don’t be silly your Grace, water will never run out as long as it rains, as for the soil the earth makes more every day.”

Lord Witlock busted into a laugh, and to Evelyn’s surprise so did The Duke.
“Evelyn you may not be nice, but I have to tell you that your politeness and combination of meanness is so unbarring that I like it,” the Duke cried out in laughter as the second course of the dinner came. Evelyn gave another small charming smile, even though she did not mean it one bit.
The rest of the dinner past uneventfully as the server’s served course after course, in fact Evelyn had not had this many courses of dinner before in her life. Her father and the Duke made quiet chit-chat, and Evelyn ignored Lord Witlock completely. Finally the dinner was over and Evelyn got up to leave, but Lord Witlock tugged on her sleeve.
“Would you accompany me to the great room?” he said.
“On what occasion?” Evelyn narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
“Just a chance to talk, seeing as we have not done much this evening.”
She considered this for moment, thinking of what possibilities he would want to talk about, but then she just gave up and went with him.
The great room has more of a study than anything else. The walls were lined with books; there was a large next and two velvet red chairs by the great fireplace, with a fire already lit. Lord Witlock sat in one and motioned for Evelyn to sit the other one.
“Evelyn, I must admit that you are a treasure,” Lord Witlock look desirably into her eyes, ”and I admire you, you’re so witty that no one could stand a chance against you, and I like that.”
Evelyn took a deep breath then sighed, so it did sound like he had feelings toward her, not just desire. This was an issue, because she had none what so ever. But what she didn’t know is that at the moment she had called his father silly, that he was completely determined to have Evelyn queen, he might even love her.
Nevertheless she replied with the same hostility “Well I glad it amuses you, but don’t do it for you.” Lord Witlock laughed, and Evelyn’s face heated in frustration.
Evelyn concentrated on the fire, watching the flames flicker inconsistency. She watched the wood burn disappearing into ashes, and she wished this is what would happen to her problems. Lord Witlock watched her intently, as though she were about to disappear.
“You dislike me don’t you, why is that,” Evelyn smiled, so he is able to read expressions like herself.
“That’s the thing isn’t it; how we knew weather we like or dislike someone, love or hate. Well I’ll tell you that I never really knew if how I felt about someone until I know them, well with you it was automatic,” She said it plainly, like it was the easiest thing.
Lord Witlock’s smile faded as Evelyn’s raised. Then he said,” No matter you will learn.” Evelyn didn’t have to ask to know what he wanted her to learn.
After that statement she got up and stride gracefully to the door and said, “Good night.”

Evelyn rushed with her father home, not wanting to spend a moment longer in Lord Witlock’s company. Usually she could withstand comments like that, but the thought of being forced to do something just snapped something inside her. She gritted her teeth and climbed the stairs to her attic room. Angrily she ripped out the violet dress, breaking the delicate stands of lace that wrapped around her forearm. Then Emily came running in.
“Don’t take your anger out on the dress,” she hissed at her, “Whatever he did, the dress doesn’t deserve it.”
“How can you be so certain, I think it was the dress’s fault,” Evelyn said while grinding her teeth harder.
“My dear, the dress cannot make someone fall in love with you only you can.” Evelyn looked up into her Emily’s eyes and knew what she said was true, but who’s to say Lord Witlock was in love with her, he probably only thinks of Evelyn as treasure to be won.
Evelyn’s thinking got interrupted by a laud booming knock that echoed through the house. Emily got up swiftly and took large graceful steps, her long black braid swaying back and forth with each gliding step. When she left the room Evelyn went back to thoughts, which were raging like a violent summer thunderstorm.
Then Emily came back in, “your mother is going to visit you on your birthday.” She had a hard look in her eyes because Emily disliked Mary-Anne. Mary-Anne always hated Evelyn and now was going to use Evelyn to her advantage, Emily knew it too well.
Evelyn sighed; another visit from her mother is just what she needed to cheer her up, then she lay down as Emily blow the candles out and darkness slowly submerged her. At first she felt completely awake then a sudden raid of sleep attacked.

Evelyn awoke to a stormy day that matched her feelings from last night exactly. Her face tinted with a smile, so god does knew my feelings, I thought he was just a figment of man’s imagination, I think I will remember to pray now, Evelyn thought.
There was a soft knock at the door then Emily came in.
“Here is a message, and when your dress come down for breakfast, then we’ll continue are lesson on formal dances from Italy.” Emily gave the message to Evelyn.
Dear Evelyn,
Last night was nice; I would like to see you again, lunch at noon?
“No thank you,” Evelyn said to herself while getting into her dress.
She walked down the stair case to see a single plate with eggs and toast, and a cup with what Evelyn guessed rose tea. She nibbled on the toast then went to Emily.
“Today we shall do a bit more dancing.” Evelyn sighed, the worst part of Italy.
“So what is this one? another form of torture?”
“No more of a belay, a graceful dance, you’ll do well at it,” Emily reassured.
The lesson took about two hours of Emily showing Evelyn correct footing, then following a rhythm, till noon. Another knock boomed though the house and Emily rushed to the door.
“What did you do?” she asked Evelyn seriously.
Evelyn took no notice of her question but quickly snatched the letter in her hand.
Evelyn,
I had expected you to come, and it insults me that you declined it. Tomorrow you are obliged to come.
She balled her fists in anger then wrote back:
Dear Lord Witlock,
Being forced to meet with you would not help the learning process, which you had wanted me to learn, why not leave it to chance that we meet again.
She handed it to the man, who started off toward Lord Witlock’s castle of a house. The messenger handed the maid the message, who took it to Lord Witlock then curtsy and scurried away. Lord Witlock unfolded it then read. A white hot furry raised then he just tried to keep calm. But then who is Evelyn to remind and twist the meaning of words of a lord, but then again who is Evelyn? He had no knowledge of her mother; now that he thinks about Evelyn has unique features to her face that are not known to England. He sat for hours thinking about Evelyn, and then a curiosity grew in him.
Then one thought turned up in his head and it was the only thing he could think of for days: Who is Evelyn Hest?
Back at the cottage Evelyn was in the kitchen making tea packets for the town healer, Sarah and her daughter. Madam Sarah’s daughter, Rebecca, was the same age as Evelyn and a perfect lady in public, but seeing as she was Evelyn’s best friend, she couldn’t be exactly like a lady all the time.
So when Evelyn was done she skipped merely around the corner of the dirt road to the large house that she was always welcomed at. She knocked at the door which Rebecca opened.
“Hi!” Rebecca said eager to see her friend. Evelyn sighed then Rebecca knew exactly that something was wrong. “What is it?”
Evelyn entered into the drawing room to give the herbs to Madam Sarah then went back to Rebecca.
“Lord Witlock the idiotic man.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened,” Tell me!”
“He thinks he’s going to teach me to know him and to like it, and he’s trying to force me into meeting him again, and I refuse to do it,” Evelyn rampaged.
“Evelyn you’ve forgotten your elegance and proper speak,” said Rebecca’s mother as she walked into the room,” so who is the poor man?”
“Mother it’s Lord Witlock!” Madam Sarah did not look shocked.
“I thought it would be soon, Evelyn you were not the only one who caught those brief glances he had towards you at the market, and Lord Witlock did come here at one point asking about you,” Madam Sarah admitted.
“What did you tell him?” Evelyn inquired.
“That any man would be lucky to have you, but you are quit hostile,” Madam Sarah said while intertwining herbs together, to make the start of an in scent rope that would hang from the walls.
All three of the ladies smiled knowing that this was true about Evelyn.
“You two ladies should go to the market,” Madam Sarah suggested.
“Yes that sounds like fun, Evelyn?”
“Yes it does sound like fun.”
Rebecca and Evelyn linked arms and skipped out the door and to the middle of the town. Everyone stared at them, only because of the interesting way there friends, one very pleasant, the other hostile. Only two man who stared thought differently because one knew nothing of the two, and the other was Lord Witlock.
“Why, you looked confused about’em girls,” A lady said to the one who didn’t know, “That pretty blond, Evelyn, over there is very nasty, can’t hold her tongue, I’m afraid. The less pretty one, Rebecca, the ginger head is a delight at parties. Both’em are poor, with a healer for a mother, and an herb grower for a father, both missing one parent, and both the best of friends.”
“Thank you madam, can you tell me which has the herb grower for a father? By the way my name is Caleb.”
“The blond, but don’t go chasing her, she’ll chase you off, besides Lord Witlock, over there,” She said pointing at a well-dressed and handsome man,” has been after her himself,”
“I see, thank you madam I’ll be off now,” Caleb bowed and walked away.
Caleb’s bright eyes followed Evelyn, she would be the key to all he needed, and all he needed to wrap her around his finger like he has done so many times before. The lord Witlock walked over to her, they talked very briefly before she tried to march on, but he got her forearm and held her in place. Perfect a chance to save her from an enemy, he thought. Caleb strode gracefully over there, and then rammed himself into lord Witlock.
“So sorry sir, didn’t mean to run into you,” he said with a smile that quickly faded, the surprise in Evelyn’s face only meant one thing, she knows who he is.

Evelyn looked the stranger who had just run into lord Witlock. He was handsome, very, a lot more than lord Witlock, at least to Evelyn he was. He was about 18, with a tanned face that dark wavy hair covered half of. He had the most amazing eyes, a florescent blue, which was brighter than the sky on a clear summer’s day. One look told Evelyn that he is gypsy.
Evelyn had first learned of gypsies one of her mother’s visit’s, later she asked Emily what they were. She told her, “Gypsies are from France, and are under any circumstance to be trusted, they do magic, bad magic and sometimes fake.” How she recognized him as gypsy was by the way he came out of nowhere, and worse she knew that he realized that she knew who he is.
Evelyn quickly lifted her gaze from his face and placed it on the ground.
“Quite alright,” Lord Witlock growled.
“Oh, Hello ladies,” Caleb said ignoring lord Witlock, “I am Caleb.”
“Hello, I am Rebecca, and this is Evelyn,” Evelyn lifted her head back up and smiled.
“Hello Caleb, my last name is Hest, if you please,” Evelyn said pleasantly.
“Yes, Miss Hess,” He took her hand to kiss it, but then their eyes meant, Evelyn’s sharp and trying to unravel his, Caleb’s unreadable, but somewhat warm.
They stood there staring at each other for 10 minutes before Lord Witlock said, “Excuse me, but Evelyn and I were having a conversation.”
Before Caleb said anything Evelyn broke in, “Exactly Lord Witlock, we were having a conversation, now if you please Caleb was sent here to escort us home.”
“I could do that,” Lord Witlock protested.
“I am, of course sure that you are able to walk us home, but Caleb is being paid. So if you excuse us. Evelyn took Caleb’s arm and marched off with Rebecca trotting behind her.
The day was sunny and beautiful, like it normally was in the summer, but something Evelyn couldn’t figure out was why all of a sudden it became hotter. They reached the old croaked bridge that run across a small stream, Evelyn there stopped finally.
“Thank you Caleb, Lord Witlock is not my most favorable company, I could pay you if you want, you are quite gentlemen like for a-,” Evelyn paused then whispered, “Gypsy.”
Caleb sighed then said, “So my secret is already known,” he gave a warm smile then continued, “I do not require any money, but some special herds.”
Evelyn eyed him up and down, “for what? If it is for magic I wish to see.”
“You are not afraid? Most women would scream at such a thing,” he replied.
“Well I am not most women; the only thing I have ever really been frightened about is losing my own will,” she whispered it softly.
“You confide in me more than most, why?” He whispered back.
“Simple, my reaction toward you was spontaneous, I’m fond of you, and do you feel the same?” she said in a rushed tone almost breathless, their heads were very close now.
“Yes,” he breathed in her face then retreated back, he had no clue what was going on. He is trapped in her charm, as Evelyn is trapped in his.
“Hello?” Rebecca said in her girly voice, “we really should be getting back now, right Evelyn?”

Unwillingly Evelyn agreed, and promised Caleb that he shall get his herbs.
Evelyn finally arrived home to find Emily sitting on the stairs reading a letter.
“Who is that from?” Evelyn questioned.
“No one, it is of no importance to you now, shall we begin our lesson?”
“No, is it known for there to be gypsies here?”
“Evelyn, Gypsies are everywhere, they spread like diseases, and they live like cockroaches, never dying.”
Evelyn gave a small smile, somehow she thought Caleb more a sea creature, than a pest. The lesson was on the royal blood line, where Evelyn wasn’t included. The current king looked young, and arrogant, but that was the problem with the ruling of countries, the leaders were born leaders and no matter what they would rule.

Evelyn went into the herb gardens and plucked a full bloomed pink chive from its immense stem. Caleb, she whispered his name aloud. He was so mysterious, and dark. She was too fond of him for her own liking. He was just as charming as her, and handsome, but more pleasant. Evelyn shook her head she could not lose her determination to stay closed hearted.
But still now that she had had a taste of desire and want it would take an army to make her marry Lord Witlock. Then a sudden thought crossed Evelyn’s mind, Lord Witlock shall inherent an army, what will he do to me when he is King? Evelyn hoped he would lose interest in her, but it will never happen.
The sky darkened quickly, covering up the sun and leaving it chilly. Evelyn closed her eyes as the first drops of rain showered on her. She knew that it would be practical to get inside, but what did she care? When Lord Witlock is king she will no longer have her own life, only the will of him. Tears fell as she realized that, she could handle many things but losing her own free isn’t one of them.
She began to sob as the thought repeated itself again and again in her brain, you will lose your free will, and you will lose it all. She pleaded to god before passing out.
Dark and blank her mind was before a swirled image emerge. It was of a Gypsy family, only one dark haired boy with bright brilliant blue eyes stood out. The family was casting him away till a stranger pick him up and took care of him, the same stranger killed the family. The only weird thing about the stranger was that he wasn’t gypsy, he was Italian. The boy was enslaved until his 15th birthday, when he used magic to set him free, ever since then he has been wondering around, making money.
Evelyn gasped as she woke up, could that boy have been Caleb?
“Evelyn! Evelyn where are you?!” her father shouted through the mist of rain.
She saw a dim light coming closer in the night. Who ever thought that I would need rescuing? Evelyn thought to herself.
“Oh, my dear are you alright?” Evelyn’s father asked in a worried voice.
“I’m perfectly fine.”