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stone path beneath her feet which ended one step in front of where she stood.  Had she been walking and reached the end of the path? she wondered.
    She took a step, and the path lengthened about eighteen inches in front of her.  She took another step, and it lengthened again.  She looked back over her shoulder and saw that the path stretched out behind her as for as she could see.  But no matter how slowly or how quickly she walked, the path before her was never more than a step ahead of her feet.
    She wondered what it meant and paused for a while to think about it.  After a time she took another step, then another.  Suddenly, the path split.  Which way should she go? she wondered feeling a little panicky.  Wasn’t that why she was here?  To decide which path to take?  Yes, she thought, that felt right.  But what help was it for to see two paths before her.  She already knew that much. 
    She looked in the direction of one path, then the other, but that was of no use.  They looked the same.  She turned around and looked behind her.  But what good was that?  It didn’t matter where she’d been.  That was done and over with.  She needed to go forward, not backward, and she needed to know which path was the right one.
    She turned back around in frustration, then froze as understanding began to seep into her mind.  She sighed softly as the grass faded away and she was, once more, sitting on her bed with the sweater in her lap.
    So, she thought, the past is done, and can’t determine my future if I refuse to allow it.  And the path I set my feet on is up to me.  There are no promises.  Only choices.  

 
    Chapter  6
     
     
    Sergio Farnswaite looked out the transport window beside his seat and gasped at what he saw.  Mile after mile of rolling hills and valleys covered in blue grass stretched as far as he could see, broken here and there by small clumps of tall, leafy trees.  He narrowed his eyes on a group of...something...as the transport flew over them, and shuddered when he realized he was looking at cows.  He thought they were cows.  If they weren’t cows, they were, at least, livestock.  He shuddered again. 
    He’d been both flattered and, frankly, confused when he’d received a special invitation from the Princess of Jasan.  His designs were aimed at young jetsetters with lots of money and no idea in the world how to dress themselves properly, let alone decorate their palatial estates.  He was popular and successful at what he did, but he’d never had a Royal client before.  Now he wondered if it had been a good idea to come here.  Not that he’d had a choice in the matter.  He just hoped she didn’t want him to decorate a barn for her...livestock. 
    Stop it this instant Sergio , he admonished himself sternly.  You will be on your best behavior and act as though you love things like grass and trees and...well...whatever else grows out of the ground.  You will keep your lip zipped, and the sharp side of your tongue hidden.  Just remember what will happen if you lose this job.  That was a thought that made Sergio’s already pale complexion turn whiter than ever.
    As Sergio continued to stare out the window he saw buildings appear in the distance.  The closer they got, the more his disappointment grew.  This was even worse than he’d feared.  A motley collection of wooden buildings scattered about without much rhyme or reason amidst more trees and more grass.  For a moment he hoped that the transport would fly over the rustic settlement, indicating that it was not their destination after all.  When the transport slowed and began to descend, he sighed.  The way his luck was going lately, he wasn’t all that surprised.
    He checked his tie, a thin metallic green affair with a perfect half Windsor knot pulled loose so that it hung precisely even with the second button of his yellow and red stripped shirt.  He ran his fingers lightly over his hair, knowing by touch that