Arian had expected random things from the Hartfield family. Her imagination envisioned the large ornate doors opening to a brood of ginger children clamoring to their sister's skirts saying how much they missed her. 

She imagined Gwen’s parents being concerned about the welfare of their daughter and hugging her fiercely. She imagined standing quietly to the side as displays of love and affection were poured out in a way that she only knew through observation.

That was not what happened though.

The large doors opened to a frazzled looking butler, concerned by the hour unexpected company had arrived. Seeing Gwen, he squeaked a frantic ‘my Lady’ and opened the door hastily. The foyer they walked into was empty, no one had been waiting at home worried about Gwen. 

Arian was very put off by this, as such an optimistic and hopeful person surely must have been nurtured in a home teeming with exceptional amounts of love.

“Please provide those kind knights with beds in the barracks.” Gwen said, gesturing to the bottom of the stone stairs behind them. “They will need meals tomorrow and access to the training grounds. I also need two baths prepared in my chambers.”

“Yes, my lady,” the butler said as he pulled a bell that rang somewhere outside the room, bowed, and scurried off.

They continued to stand there, and Arian looked around. A massive painting hung on one wall depicting a powerfully large red headed man, his delicate wife with bright blue eyes, and an adorable little girl sitting on her mother’s lap. The child in the painting was maybe five or six, Arian was not sure. She didn’t study pediatrics in school outside the required curriculums, so her familiarity with children was lacking.

As they waited, the sound of steady footsteps approaching began to sound. Their pace was quick and eventually a slender gentleman appeared. He appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties. He was a bit mousy but had striking red hair and a close-cut beard, bearing strong resemblance to the man in the massive portrait.

“UNCLE!” Gwen yelled as she scurried toward him and embraced him.

“Why are you not with Prince Walter Gwen?” He asked in confusion, his eyes landing on Arian. “I thought maybe you two returned to the capital. What happened?”

“The prince was called away on an urgent matter, I was attacked on my return.”

“What?” The man exclaimed, “How did you escape?”

Smiling, Gwen turned towards Arian, “This brave woman saved my life. Her name is Arian, and I have promised her that we will help take care of her until she can find a way to return home to her country.”

Bowing deeply, the man said, “The Hartfield family is indebted to you, my lady.”

Arian bowed in return and Gwen’s uncle was a bit astonished at the gesture. Mutual bowing was not the custom apparently, at least not between and man and a woman.

“I wish for her to be my sister while she is here.” Gwen stated, with words beaming like sunshine.

Confused at the words, her uncle finally said, “I cannot make her your sister, my dear, but I suppose we could make her your cousin?” His voice was uncertain at the end.

Gwen bounced, “Do you mean it! Do you truly mean it Uncle!”

“If you wish it,” he said smiling at her, “I will summon a lawyer tomorrow morning to get the adoption documentation in order.”

Gwen ran to Arian to link arms with her and began dragging her down the hall. “Did you hear? We will be family!”

 “Wait, what?” was the only thing Arian managed to utter as she stood there in shock.

Was this lifelong foster kid getting adopted by a rich uncle after completing her doctorate? This was the most ridiculous turn of events she could think of. The expressionless mask she had been wearing most of her life slipped to reveal her baffled face. How could people that knew absolutely nothing about her just so casually adopt her?

One thing she did remember about history was that rich people would collect artists. Noblemen would give these aspiring creators a place to live and pay for them to create something to bolster their reputations in high society. Most of the world’s greatest artistic achievements were created in these residencies. Was Arian going to become a rich person’s pet that dispensed medical knowledge as a form of entertainment?

If so, she thought amused, maybe then he will pay off my student loans.

That same evening, a large balding man also arrived back at the Hartfield family barracks. He quietly went to his room and removed his simple armor. The eagle crest of the Hartfield family was not adorned on the plate he wore. 

At the small wash basin he had, he nervously began to rinse off his face. Thankfully, the burning sting that witch had cast on him did not reappear.

After rinsing with the cool water, he grabbed a towel to dry his face. His room was dim, but he could still see the redness in the whites of his eyes. There were scratches on his face where he had desperately clawed in panic, but most were hidden by his thick mutton chop facial hair.

He had never experienced anything like it before. The manner of witchcraft that could bring a man his size immediately to his knees was dangerous. He was just grateful that, after some time, his vision returned and seemed to be unimpaired.

He was not excited to tell his benefactor about the failed abduction. The plan would be ruined, and the small fortune offered to him would be rescinded. When Gwendolyn had escaped him, he went to the bridge crossing to wait and hopefully intercept her.

He was not a tracker and did not trust himself to find her in the woods. Eventually she showed up, walking alone out of the tree line and straight into a group of knights. They were so enamored by her that, not one, but two of them immediately offered her their traveling cloaks.

After seeing her with them, he immediately gave up and left to go find a pint. Those five insipid louts were guaranteed to escort her safely to her the doors of the estate. A simple plan had been ruined by a foul stranger and he needed to wash his losses away with ale. 

Damn that girl.

Damn those knights.

But most of all…

Damn that evil witch!