Desires I have, but not for you.

"What's the matter?" she asked, and he grinned at her as if she'd said something funny. "I'm supposed to be your lover, remember? You're supposed to like me."

"No," he said, and she nodded. She could see it in his eyes: the desire, the hunger to taste those lips —and a vast sadness that made her heart hurt.

Her face had flushed with heat at the thought of kissing him, but now she felt cold inside. He was so handsome, and he seemed to want nothing more than to kiss her, but she couldn't do it. She didn't know why; maybe because she knew she would hate herself afterward, or because somehow she sensed how much he wanted it, too.

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She remembered then what she'd wanted. Him. And she realized that when she kissed him, she might just be taking his first kiss from another girl. He might have been waiting for this moment since he was a little boy, and she would be robbing him of it. Would he despise her?

And yet...he was beautiful, he was kind, and he wanted her so badly it ached inside her. Hadn't she always wanted to fall in love with someone like that? Someone who had all the things she wanted most in life—charm, intelligence, strength, beauty, kindness. Someone who made her feel warm inside. How could she deny him even that?

"You want to kiss me," she whispered. "Don't you?"

He smiled, still looking sad but no longer quite as unhappy.

"Yes."

She saw now that the handsomeness wasn't only physical. His eyes were lovely, and they held intelligence that went beyond mere words. Even though he was silent, he seemed to understand everything she said, and he always gave her the answers she needed. The way he looked at her sometimes made her shiver.

But when he spoke, he sounded different. When she listened closely, she could hear the words he'd learned from the other boys, the ones he used when he was speaking to his father and brothers. She thought she understood them, but she couldn't say exactly what they meant. They had a strange, oddly musical sound to them that reminded her of music, but she couldn't recall ever hearing anything similar.

Then he was in front of her, and she reached out for him, wanting to touch him, needing to reassure herself that he was real. Instead of letting her take his hand, though, he pulled away from her.

"I can't," he said. "Not until I get my things together. My brother is coming back for me tonight, and we're going north with him. I've got to go find some food, too. And...I need to tell him goodbye."

"Why are you leaving?"

"My mother sent me south," he said, "to look for work. But it's too far, and besides, there aren't any jobs. So I came back here to wait for Brother Edmon, and then go up with him."

He told her more about how things worked in the north: how people lived in small villages, traveling from place to place, following the seasons, hunting, and gathering whatever they needed along the way.

Most of the men were hunters, while women tended to be gatherers, making baskets and weaving cloth. There were no cities, only large towns near rivers where trade took place.

She saw the appeal of such a life, but she also recognized that it was difficult and dangerous. She knew from experience how hard it was simply to survive without family or friends.

"How will you find your way back home?" she asked.

"We'll meet up with some of our relatives," he said. "Brother Edmon knows all their names, and they know him. If we don't find them, we'll ask anyone who looks like a traveler or a trader, and eventually, someone will help us."

"Why do you have to leave tonight?"

"It's already dark," he said. "The roads are better by day, but at night we'll be in more danger. Besides, it's not easier to travel when you're tired. You sleep, and then when morning comes, you start again."

"What happens when it rains?"

"Some people stay in one place, but most of us just keep going. We can usually find shelter somewhere. In bad weather, we build lean-tos out of branches and leaves, or we make tents. Sometimes the men take shelter in caves or holes in the ground." He paused. "Sometimes," he added quietly, "they just die."

Wow! That's quite a bit, quite a bit for you to take in. Almost, suddenly she realized this journey meant she may never see him again and she might have to bury her desires for him.

But let's take a closer look.

Before telling him goodbye, she had seen him watching her. She hadn't known whether to laugh or cry; she still wasn't sure. She had been so certain he wanted to kiss her, and when he finally did, she had felt a surge of relief and joy. But then he pulled away from her and left, and she was confused.

Now she understood. When he spoke of his mother sending him south, he was referring to the slave market. She'd thought it odd that he hadn't mentioned his father, but perhaps his father was dead. Or maybe he was still alive, but he was somewhere else, far from here.

If he came back before the market closed, he might be sold to a house for training as a soldier, or worse—a mercenary. There was a lot of unrest among the clans, and the king was looking for soldiers who could fight well.

Maybe his older brother had been captured, or killed, and they just hadn't told him yet. or to a farmer, or even to a brothel. Perhaps he wouldn't be allowed to return home at all.

Or maybe he was dead. She tried not to think about that, but she couldn't help wondering if he too would die fighting and never get to understand what love is except the love wrapped around obeying his slave master.