From what she'd been told, she'd probably fallen from a horse after being hit by a low hanging branch. The horse had never returned, but its hoof prints were left in the snow.
It was good that the king had found her when he did or she would've frozen to death. He and his two men had carried her back to the castle.
That was where she was now, in the garden at his castle, in Aerineva.
Frozen trees and bushes sparkled in the moonlight. Up above a light burned just inside His Majesty's windows. He kept a close watch on her. He must've heard her in the passageway.
The castle was well protected. She was in no danger. Why was he so worried? It was all right. He was a kind man. King Valen was well-liked by the few subjects he had. At least she knew she was in good hands. Just then he stepped softly into the garden.
"Oh, Your Majesty, good evening."
"How do you feel?" he asked her.
"Oh, I'm better. My head is a little tender, but I'll be fine."
He smiled for a moment, "You know, I'll have to call you something eventually."
"Oh, yes..." she muttered. She hadn't thought to wonder about her name.
"Would you like to invent a name... or shall I?" he asked.
"Why don't you?" she said smiling, "but make it a pretty name, of course."
"Of course. I wouldn't dream of anything else," he assured her. Then he brought a finger to his lips, deep in thought. "Isabel? How would that suit you?" he asked. "I'm sure I could think of better, but given only a moment's thought..." he trailed off charmingly.
"Oh, Isabel is wonderful. I love it. Thank you," she exclaimed. "I would've muddled it up, I'm sure." She blushed.
"Well then, Isabel," he began, taking her hand, "can I walk you to your room?"