He saw her. Walking through the town, dressed as always in her black leather, rapier at her side. White hair tumbled down her back, held off her face by a black headband. He saw her talk to townspeople, gathering information. He saw her stepping into the tavern, to get a drink, or maybe lunch. He saw her, and he waited, sometimes simply watching, sometimes with arrow knocked, aimed, ready.
He saw her, but he never fired.
She didn't see him, not out in the woods, where he seemed to blend into nature, to became part of the very forest. She didn't see him, not as he followed her on her travels, from town to town, as she protected her charge. She was paid well; she did her job just as well. But she didn't see him as he stalked her, watched her with dark eyes, ever ready to take down this new enemy.
She didn't see him, but she knew she was being watched.