The satyr gathered her close and as she melted into his embrace his arms drew her tightly against him.  "What would you be?" he asked softly, "If you were not a princess... not of royal blood... If you were free to truly choose to be whatever you desired... What would you choose to be?"  Roarke continued to hold her close as he waited for her answer, hoping for and afraid of what she would say at the same time.