Three weeks passed since the son of the king was dispatched to recover the young woman whom the king claimed to be the future queen, the woman that he would have married to his son. At least, that was the story the king had shared with those who asked. It was the very same story he shared with the men he chose to hire in Jax's place, Jax having tested his father's patience far too much. The only thing that surpassed his ambition was his lack of patience, that man who wore a crown woven as much with gold as deceit. Sixteen men, some the most wretched the kingdom had to offer spread outwards from Castle Reinhardt that day in search of the young woman with eyes of ice and hair of a raven's plumage. The reward for finding and bringing the wench back to the castle would sustain several generations and there would be blood spilled over this woman. That was something they were all sure of. 

Jax's journey had remained largely fruitless these past few weeks. There were plenty of young women with the hair and the eyes, though they always lacked the damn freckles. The gods themselves seemed to taunt him some evenings. If it wasn't for Jax's patience, he would have stormed off and returned to the war-front which last he heard was still alive and well. Today, for the first time in three nights, he would rest at an inn. The Sleeping Dog it was named, the rowdy travelers yelling and drinking in the dive of a bar anything but accurate to the inn's name. '[i]Well[/i]' he thought with a shrug, '[i]no reason not to enjoy myself[/i]' Jax joined in with the others, drinking the night away, swapping war stories, both real and fake, and having a wonderful time on his father's coffers. That night the patrons of the Sleeping Dog drank on Jax's dime, one that was the direct product of his father's coffers, which amusingly enough came from the pockets of those drinking away the night.

He found himself in a room the next morning, his limbs sluggish and thoughts blurred. A morning's drink would stave off the hangover, he could only hope as he gathered his clothes and trudged downstairs in his daily attire. It was yet another day of the hunt and from his hazy memories of last night, a rather fruitless one. That is until he saw hair black as night, a glowing set of pale blue eyes between them. "Gods almighty..." Jax muttered under his breath, taking a swig from another man who was drinking away his hangover. For the first time in nearly a month of riding he was speechless. Was it truly her?