Ravensblood Forest them old mistakes are gone

He wanders inland, determined to get a scope of the land surrounding the fields where he'd met the golden boy. Perhaps he can make sense of the strange familiarity all around him — or try, at least. Yet the feeling only grows, and with it a strange anxiety, a tension gripping him more tightly with each passing hour. He's been here before, he's sure of it — but when? He can't remember, no matter how hard he tries.
The young prince is so entangled in his inner conflict that he doesn't even stop to marvel at the trees, or take in the atmosphere of the forest. Nothing pulls him from his reverie until the scent of another reaches him. A familiar scent. The realization freezes him in place, turned to stone by the sudden, paralyzing fear of awakening his past. In many ways, the mystery is easier; comforting, even. The mystery allows him to believe what he knows to be lies, to cling to a legacy that was never meant to be his. But it is mine, he tells himself, struck by a wave of fierce stubbornness, and the spell is broken. He starts forward, hearing the movement now. Close now — and then he sees her.
You — I know you. You're — Too young to be my mother, he realizes, cutting off the words that had tumbled out of him before he'd even had time to think them. The girl looks to be his age, though, as far as he can tell — which can only mean... Is your mother named Speedy? His heart is beating fast now, his mouth dry; he doesn't know when that'd happened. All he knows is that he needs the girl to answer, he needs her to say yes, to be what he is looking for. She has to.