A/N: Disclaimer - All of the canon characters and settings are property of the incredible Tamora Pierce. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so please R&R and I'll try to improve!

Queenscove, a fief of Tortall;

Summer

In the 35th year of the reign of

Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen,

473 H.E. (The Human Era)

1

Resolve

The fresh, mossy ground squished beneath the young girl's feet as she padded across the moor in powerful leaping strides. Her thick, black hair whipped behind her in a wildly knotted mass as the salty breeze beat against her face and caught her tangles like a banner. The glowing light of the sun sank on the horizon before her like butter melting on the edge of a skillet. Though she was running very quickly, her breathing was even and infrequent as her blue-green eyes methodically scanned the shoreline to which she rapidly drew nearer. The moss and low grasses became a line sand dunes littered with dry stalks of beach grass that the girl leapt nimbly over. With a final lunge, she skidded to a grainy halt on the beach just shy of the lapping tide.

Looking out past the breakers crashing upon the foreshore, the girl spotted a small frigate slowly buoyed by the waves toward the very beach where she stood. Fifteen minutes later, the ship was anchored firmly beyond the rocks of the cove and a rowboat was braving the choppy waves. When the boat was close enough for the girl to distinguish between individuals, she counted only four figures outlined dimly by the thin, bright line that was the last vestige of sunlight. Her brow creased with confusion and her mouth tugged to the left in agitation as she thought, Two oarsman, one at the bow and the other at the stern, her mother and father seated together amidships...Where was the fifth? As the oarsmen jumped from their positions and bodily pulled the boat and its occupants ashore, the girl stood still chattering with cold and nerves - her toes barely touching the water as she resisted the urge to run toward her parents.

She knew from countless reunions of this nature that diving headlong into the water would only result in a placid, yet stern talking-to about decorum from her mother while her father would nervously prescribe treatments for the cold she was bound to develop the next day. She sighed, smiling fondly at the remembrance while vowing to stay planted on the spot until the formalities were observed. She was determined to convince her parents that she was a mature and sophisticated young lady - this was, of course, step one of her five-step plan. As the wooden prow of the boat ground against the sand, her parents rose slowly from their benches and the Duke stepped out of the boat and onto the beach. He turned back to offer a hand to his Duchess once he had steadied himself and become accustomed once more to the stability of land. Still holding hands, the Duke and Duchess stood together before their daughter. The man was more than a head taller than his wife and had a lanky yet dignified manner about him. His green eyes danced with good humor and his white teeth flashed in a smile upon seeing his precious girl up close. The woman was shorter, round-faced, and slightly plump in a robust way. Though she did not smile widely like her husband, her warm brown eyes crinkled with serene happiness.

Duke Nealan of Queenscove bowed at the waist tucking his left hand behind his back while his right hand swept forward, palm up in supplication. His daughter answered with a neat curtsy placing her left hand delicately in her father's, planting the toes of her right foot in the sand behind her left, and bending her legs slowly outward making certain that she kept her torso steady and straight. After a moment, both straightened and the formality was repeated as Duchess Yukimi no Daiomoru of Queenscove bowed at the knees in the Yamani style with her ankles and knees locked together, head bowed, and hands outstretched palms up. Her daughter copied the curtsy precisely and placed both her hands into her mother's. They rose together still holding hands and smiled at one another with their eyes.

"Nishiko, thank you for meeting us here despite our late arrival. It will make the walk home far more pleasant," Duchess Yukimi murmured as the trio of Queenscoves broke with formality and hugged one another tightly.

Taking her mother's right hand and her father's left, the family walked up the path that Nishiko had taken back through the beach, dunes, and mossy hillock to the gates of the Queenscove citadel. The three remained quiet for a time as they made their way home together enjoying each other's company and the cool taste of the briny air as it mixed with the earthy smell of the plains before them. Inside, Nishiko buzzed with curiosity and worry and was desperate to ask the question that plagued her; Where was her best friend? However, Nishiko was determined to allow her parents the time they needed to enjoy being home, relax into the normal patterns of their lives, lull them into a false sense of security - step two of her plan.

Finally, her father broke the silence with a grunt of amusement ruefully exclaiming, "Are you truly my daughter? To greet us so politely and then be silent for so long is downright unnatural! What ailment could have caused such a blessed relief from your endless questioning - and why haven't I discovered it before now?"

Duke Nealan looked down at Nishiko and she grinned back up at him wickedly.

"Merely that dreaded disease called tiredness which comes to all hard-workers before the end. I am weary from a long day of household chores and maidenly duties," she complained sarcastically, yawning fakely into a gracefully cupped hand, "and besides, what churlish daughter would dare to pester her beloved parents when they have only just returned home from a diplomatic journey of several months."

"Not that it has ever stopped you before, dear," replied her mother with a tone of weary acceptance. Yukimi shot a look at her husband as sharp as the steel blade of a shukusen urging him to speak.

Nealan cleared his throat and hesitantly confided, "Nishiko, Princess Lianokami will not be staying with us this summer."

Nishiko felt her face drain of warmth as she stopped dead in her tracks. Her father and mother had not noticed her reaction and continued walking forward through the twilit grass until their daughter's hands dropped from theirs. They turned back at Nishiko's sudden absence to see her several paces behind them looking panic-stricken, her eyes pleading for an explanation.

She stammered, "What's happened to her? Is she ill? W-what-"

"No, sweet child, nothing dire I promise you," Neal reassured gently, placing a comforting hand on his child's shoulder.

"Lianokami has simply made a few-" her mother's pause was full of trepidation as she searched for the most tactful word, "changes to her plans for the future and as a result needs to spend this summer in Corus in order to best prepare."

"We'll explain more once we're in our private quarters," Neal cut in edgily as they approached the walkway that stood between them and the citadel.

Armored guards that stood watchfully on either side of the limestone footbridge bowed and saluted as the Duke, Duchess, and heiress apparent approached. They placed their gauntleted hands over their hearts where they both wore a velvet badge depicting the Queenscove coat of arms - a shield of deep sea blue fronted by a white cherry blossom tree growing atop a triangle of forest green and blue wavelets surmounted by the Queen's circlet.

The family bowed to their vassals with the same formality with which they had greeted each other and Duke Nealan clapped each of them congenially on the back exclaiming loudly, "Why do I ever leave? It's nice to see that the gnarled old yew has finally been replaced with the cherry blossom of my wife's Yamani clan. Makes for a lovely change to the antiquated emblem, don't you think?"

The guards nodded in polite agreement and returned to their upright and protective postures staring dead ahead, watching for any danger - though there was rarely anything to be feared from West these days. As they walked through the iron barred gates of the western archway, through the walled city, and into the castle itself, Duke Nealan was waylaid by the overzealous greetings of his steward Ramell who inquired about everything from the weather in the Yamani Islands to the exact time when he could expect the ship to come into port with the morning tide so that he could prepare some footmen to go and procure their possessions. After bluntly responding to the loquacious steward, Neal and his family ascended the grand staircase and turned right to walk down the richly carpeted hallway of studies, libraries, and workrooms together. Duke Nealan fumbled with a ring of iron keys, struggling to find the one that would unlock his study at the end of the hall.

"I swear they are all identical," he muttered indignantly as he tried, unsuccessfully, to isolate the correct key.

"Why you always insist on doing things the hard way is beyond me," Yukimi breathed bemusedly as she unlocked the door with a tiny spark of her light blue Gift.

Neal mumbled grumpily under his breath, "For all you knew, it could have been warded against everyone instead of just non-family members."

Nishiko filled the magelights with her turquoise Gift - the exact color of her eyes and the combination of her parent Gifts' - illuminating the room before they all entered and sat comfortably around Neal's messy desk.

"Though, now I think on it," Neal continued a conversation he had evidently been having on his own, "I should magically code each of my keys to glow when in the proximity of its corresponding locks so I don't have to fish around like a dolt each time I need to open something…I won't accidentally destroy the door war by using my Gift against it either-"

Yukimi ahem-ed softly in order to reorient her husband's attention to more relevant matters and Nealan promptly returned to the subject and hand.

He sighed once, and said it all quickly and irretrievably, "Princess Lianokami has decided not to continue her studies in the warrior arts. Roald and Shinkokami told us by letter that Lianokami thought, after deliberating long and hard about her duties as the future Queen of Tortall, that her future rule would be easier - less controversial - if she trained as a Lady of the Court rather than as a Knight of the Realm."

A shocked silence descended on Nishiko as her mind buzzed to no avail. No thoughts could be produced in the resulting void, only an empty numbness that spread to her chest.

"You have to understand, dear one, that she already faces much scrutiny as the first female heir in Tortallan history who is not a pure Easterner," her mother added quietly.

Nishiko's head suddenly cleared at that last comment, outrage replacing the cold.

"Who cares?" she snarled viciously, dropping any vestige of Yamani calm, "who cares if she's pure anything. Liano is going to be a greater queen than Thayet the Peerless. What does it matter that she's a girl or whether her mother is from here, there, or anywhere? The Yamani-Tortallan Treaty was signed years ago and that's that."

Nishiko huffed at the last statement and folded her arms in a petulant attitude.

Reminding herself that her daughter was yet to turn nine, her mother crooned, "If only life were that simple, Shiko," taking her daughter's hand in an effort to leech the anger from Nishiko and replace it with her own vast supply of tranquility.

"If only the Conservatives would ever learn," her father remarked bitterly, "Your mother is right, the princess cannot make enemies amongst her people - she will struggle to maintain their support even without trying for her shield simply because of her very nature."

Skipping steps three and four of her brilliant scheme, Nishiko jumped right to step five and asked point blank, "Will you still allow me to become a Page next year?"

A sudden silence fell over the room. Yukimi pulled a fan from the scarlet silk obi of her komon (informal kimono) and started to wave it before her face, clearly trying to hide whatever unbidden expressions were playing out there. The fan's intrusion into the conversation meant that the Duchess had already formed an opinion on the matter, but did not want to affect her husband's reaction. The Duke of Queenscove sat rigidly in his chair as if it were suddenly made of crude iron, his face was very pale making the green of his eyes shine as his eyes bulged comically. He stared at his palms as he cracked his knuckles, picked his fingernails, and wrung his hands together all in an attempt to do anything other than look his determined daughter in the eye. After an eternity, during which Nishiko repeatedly glanced out the window to make sure that the sun was not in fact rising for a new day, Neal finally looked up.

Haltingly, he reasoned, "We thought-" with an interrupting glance of Yukimi's eyes from over her fan he amended, "I thought that without Lianokami...um...you might reconsider. I mean...you two do everything together. Not to mention, you were sort of...counting on her royal protection to prevent any...nastiness. Wouldn't you rather stick together, learn together?"

Suddenly, hot anger flared in Nishiko's belly - an anger that rose up into her throat and steamed out of her mouth. Not anger at her father, for he spoke a truth that resonated with what Nishiko had imagined her life to be. No, this rage is not for him, she thought deliberately, trying to pinpoint to whom these feelings needed to be directed.

"I would have followed Lianokami anywhere, absolutely anywhere. I would never have imagined going through the challenges of being a Page, Squire, and Knight without her friendship. But I will not follow her away from where my dreams dare to take me. I don't need a her protection. Just because she's been bullied out of the plan we made years ago - and doesn't even have the guts to tell me herself - does not mean that I am!" Nishiko's initial, brutal calm rose into a low yell as she spoke, as the tight hold she had kept on her anger suddenly loosened.

Her mother interjected, "Nishiko, that's not fair. Lianokami would have told you in person if she could, I'm sure of it. But her duties-"

"Yeah," Nishiko snarled, "Liano's duties are going to lead her to unhappiness in the end and it surely won't be my shoulder she cries on when she realizes that she's limited herself to the court when she could have the realm. I'll be off adventuring and righting wrongs while she attends balls and banquets and accomplishes nothing herself."

"Nishiko," Nealan interjected sharply, "that is the future queen you are disparaging. Remember whom you serve. If you want me to consider your request seriously, I suggest you mind your tongue. And apologize to your mother for interrupting immediately."

After a pregnant pause, Nishiko muttered, "I'm sorry, okasaan," sulkily.

"It is forgiven, ko. Since this is clearly an emotional topic for all of us, I think we should sleep and deliberate in dreams," Yukimi suggested encouragingly, "after all, it is only the beginning of summer. Your tenth birthday is still more than a year away, so we have abundant time to ponder this problem. It need not be solved tonight."

With murmurs of assent, the globes of light were extinguished and Nishiko left the study without another word, marching down the hallway, up the main staircase, and around the winding stair of the Northern Tower to her room. Not even bothering to illuminate the chamber, Nishiko flung herself onto the bed and peeled off her top layer of clothes hurling them against her door in frustration.

She closed her eyes and prayed - for one of the few times in her life - to Mithros for strength of heart and arm, to The Goddess for wisdom and grace, and to The Dark God for peaceful sleep. All her prayers were granted and more; after all, a god can guide a mortal, yet there always comes a moment when only a human can affect the outcome.

Nishiko was one such human, and she would indeed make change.