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Jenna sat in her room in the castle thinking of him. She couldn’t stop it, no matter what she tried. Her love was to be wed to her half sister. She knew he hated her sister as much as she, but was forced to be wed with the month! She looked around the cluttered little room and stood at the window, opening it widely. She climbed from her room to a tree near by that contained a rope and a handle. She grabbed the handle tight and swung over the edge of the tree, her dress fluttering lightly in the wind speed. She landed on the wooden ramps used to repair the fence it lay next to. She ran along the fence, hidden by the shrubs. She hid at the end of the planter, in a rose bed. She felt the thorns of the roses tear into her skin lightly as she shifted to leave the rose bed. Jenna moved swiftly to a small cavern in the hedges, where she was to meet the prince.
Rayne walked through the gardens as if he was in a casual company, though his heart raced. She was waiting for him, where they’ve met so many times since the plans of marriage. He hated the thought of some other bride, though he had little choice. Unless Shania was killed with her younger sister, their love could not be. He walked past the hedge’s entrance and nodded to a guard, as soon as the guard turned away, he darted into the hedge.
“Rayne,” Jenna whispered, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She had arrived first out of the two of them. “It’s wonderful to see you.” Rayne smiled and sat behind her, pulling her back to wrap his arms around her.
“My dear Jenna, it’s misery beyond this barricade’s walls. I missed you dearly,” he replied quietly. “May nothing happen to us while we dwell here.” He kissed her head lightly.
"What are we to do about Shania and Cheyenne? They’ll find us and send me away, never to see you again. Love, please tell me you found a plan. If only we could steal ourselves away,” Jenna sighed.
“Maybe we won’t have to. Give me your hand, Jenna,” he whispered lightly. She did as he asked, her hand laying palm up in his. He pulled a thin knife out and cut across his hand lightly.
“What are you going?” Jenna questioned her lover, taking her hand back. He just used his uncut hand and pulled her into a kiss. He let his cut hand touch her, the blood staining her dress.
“This is your only dress; the sisters will see it and look for the bleeding hand at fault. They will see it as me, and cast me down like a stone,” Rayne smirked. He let his hand glide up the side of her dress, stopping before the breast.
“My cleaver Rayne, please don’t injure your self as such. It’s not that way I love you,” she said. All that Rayne heard was, ‘I love you.’ He grinned and held her close, kissing her neck.
“I love you, Jenna.” She stopped and looked at him.