Tonight the manor gardens were abuzz with activity. Normally, this courtyard was for the baron’s private use; but the current baron, as he had for thirty years, invited people in for the Harvest Fair. Most of the people of the village were here now, dancing or singing or laughing or feasting. The tables were heavy with the bounty of the farms and the forests alike, and the wine flowed freely. Farther out, couples walked among the trees and ponds, or found some space to occupy together.

It was these that Janni paid the most attention to. The people at the centre of the gathering were mostly distracted by one another, but some of those wandering ones and twos were watching the night, and might notice a newcomer more readily. Even if they didn’t see her, that wouldn’t help if she stepped on someone’s toes. She made her way across the moonlit gardens, from the shadow of one tree to another. She couldn’t hope to keep entirely to the shadows, much as she might wish to do so; closer to the gathering, there was simply too much light. But her weaving path kept her in shadow as much as she could arrange, and when it could not, she trusted to her hooded cloak to make her just another patron of the Duke’s generosity.

Just another fair-goer ambling about the grounds, that was the key.

As she drew nearer to the music, the people were thicker. Some of them were dancing, in ones or twos or fours, and when a few such groups passed near her, she, too, spun and twirled, flowing from moonlight to darkness, ever closer to the walls.

When she reached the darkened portico, she strode onto it without missing a step. The one she sought was close, now – relatively. She saw him at the far end of the portico, leaning against one of the columns. By himself.

It was almost perfect.

She timed her steps, twirling across the beams of moonlight as the dancing on the grass went by as well. From one column to the next she made her way, just another shadow on the wall as far as anyone’s eyes were concerned.

The door to the foyer was guarded, and that was troublesome; but when the guards turned toward one of the servants, coming outside with more wine, she had her moment, slipping past their turned backs. And then she was on, moving, once again, away from the press of people.

Close, now. Very close. She could see the moonlight gleaming in the young man’s eyes as he watched the gathering, for a few moments before she slipped behind him. He swallowed the last bite of one roll – she was close enough now to smell the spices – and was lifting the still-intact one in his hand when she stepped up to that very column, reaching around him.

He wasn’t expecting his possession of that morsel to be contested; she plucked it out of his fingers easily. “For me?” she murmured over his ear. “How kind of you, Harald.”

The man stiffened, turning his head toward her. “Janni!” he hissed. “What are you doing here?” He reached up to touch her cheek, as though assuring himself that she was real, not a figment of his fancy.

“It’s the full moon, Harald.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I promised to return to you with every moon. The Fair doesn’t change that.”

Harald chuckled. “You,” he breathed over her lips, “are a remarkable woman, Janni.”