Lady Rosabella Ashcroft would marry an Elven lord she had never seen. In three days, her carriage would carry her to Eldergrove for the wedding. She stood in her chamber and read his letter for the ninth time. It named the day, the hour, and nothing else. No mention of what he liked. No warning of what might offend him. She set the letter down and pressed her cold hands flat on the desk. Her mother had married the same way and wept for a year. Rosabella refused that fate. A bad first meeting could poison the whole marriage. She had to reach the lord before the wedding day, some part of her, so that he met a person and not a stranger in a green gown. She called for parchment and began a list. What did she know of him? Almost nothing. So she chose to send what she knew of herself, and to send tribute he could not misread. First, respect. She went to the stable and chose the finest animal in her father's line. The stallion stood tall, his silver mane bright against his pale coat. A warhorse spoke a language every lord understood. She would send him ahead with her seal and a note in her own hand. Second, herself. Rosabella climbed to the nursery and lifted the porcelain doll from its shelf. She had kept it since childhood. Its painted face and lace apron were her own taste made small. A stranger could hold it and learn what she loved: soft colors, careful work, tenderness. She wrapped it in cloth. Third, welcome. That night she went to the kitchen herself and sent the cook away. She ground acorn flour for the crust and pressed it into the pan. She filled it with huckleberries and poured honey over the top. It baked into a dark, glossy tart, the sweetness of the woods where her lord lived. She would carry it to their meeting and serve it with her own hands. At dawn she loaded the wagon. The stallion, the wrapped doll, the covered tart. She sent the horse and the doll ahead by rider. The message was plain: here is my respect, and here is who I am. The rider returned on the second day. He carried a reply sealed in green wax. Rosabella broke it and read. The lord thanked her for the stallion. He wrote that he had placed the doll on the table beside his own chair. And he asked one thing. He had a young daughter, and the child had seen the doll and wept for it. Would Rosabella meet the girl first, before the wedding? Rosabella lowered the letter. No one had told her the lord had a child. In three days she would not only meet a husband. She would meet a daughter who already wanted what was hers.