Disclaimer: The world of Tortall was created by Tamora Pierce, as are most of the characters here.

Author's note: Please read this!! This is, essentially, the first of two parts. Thing is, I don't know whether I should write 'Squire Romilly'

First of all, I'd like to say that this isn't your average fanfic. I think the first sentence will give that away. I'm a writer of original fiction primarily so after re-reading Protector of the Small series (up to Squire—not Lady Knight, I think it's cheesy) I was trying to figure out an original slant on 'girl becomes knight' story. Of course, it has to be a progression on the previous stories. Alanna was first lady knight, Keladry was first known lady knight. What would the next be? I figured it would be somebody who was THE most unlikely person to become a knight—a sheltered, pretty, spoilt girl who becomes a knight because she thinks she can be whatever she wants. Mind you, she isn't so bad by the end of the story. There's a definite 'character arc' here that ends theoretically in 'Squire Romilly' (if I write it).

There isn't any romance in this (see word: page, check age: 14 (too young!) and it's chock-a-block full of allusions to Tamora Pierce characters. I have tons and tons of references. And please tell me if I've made mistakes regarding canon and such.

Lady Romilly of Larinth

Page Romilly

Autumn, HE 470

Lady Romilly of Larinth sat before her dresser, preening. She had been given another necklace; a string of beautiful seed pearls. Her maid, Nina, had given it to her that morning. It had come with a tag saying, 'with love, from an admirer' in a childish scrawl. Romilly put on the necklace and skipped out of her room.

"Mama! Mama!" She called, pounding on the door of her parents' suite of rooms. "Mama!"

Her mother's maid, Mary, opened it, scolding Romilly for making such a racket. Then, she noticed the necklace and she smiled with delight. "You got a present!"

"That was what I wanted to tell Mama," Romilly said superiously. "That was what the urgent news was."

"Well, milady, we mustn't refrain from telling the Lady Theodora about it!" Mary let Romilly into the room and Romilly immediately bounded towards her mother, who was sitting on a chaise-long speaking to her older sister, Ianthe.

Romilly curtsied then ran over to show off the necklace. "Second one this week," she declared.

"You're even more popular than I am, Rom, and you're only ten!" Ianthe laughed, her bright blue eyes merry.

"Nobody's more beloved than you, sister," Rom replied solemnly.

Ianthe of Larinth ruffled Romilly's flaxen curls affectionately.

"Mama, aren't you proud of me?" Romilly asked, pouting.

"I'm incredibly proud of you, Romilly," Lady Theodora of Larinth said warmly, glowing with pride. "You're a delight."

Romilly giggled and climbed on to the sofa to sit in her mother's lap. Lady Theodora allowed her to do so, even if it was slightly improper.

"What were you two talking about?" Romilly asked.

"Ianthe's friend Lady Arabelle, do you remember her?" Lady Theodora asked.

Romilly nodded. She had a good memory.

"Well, her little sister is considering becoming a page."

"Jayne wants to be a knight?"

Ianthe nodded. "Jayne is a rather plain child, so it is understandable."

Ever since Lady Keladry of Mindelan's successful acquisition of a shield, several girls had entered the palace to train as knights. However, due to bullying and general discrimination, many gave up within their first few years. However, Prince Roald and his wife, Princess Shinkokami, spoke quite openly about their dislike of hazing and bullying and due to this, young pages had a much easier time. Padraig haMinch however, who trained the pages in the palace, thought that hazing would be good for building character, but he did not encourage bullying outright. During her stay in the palace, Lady Keladry had formed a troop that patrolled the page's wing, fighting any bullies they encountered. Some pages had thought this a good idea and had continued this practice. Overall, bullying was on the decrease. However, very few girls became squires and those that did were not chosen by knights to squire them. It seemed that for a girl to be a successful she had to be exceptional. Most girls were average or below average, simply because they were not determined enough to train harder than the boys to build up muscle. Nonetheless, a few girls made it and became knights, although some at court would laugh at these girls and say, "Lady knight you say? Lady? She doesn't look like a lady to me. More like a man, actually."

When the Lioness, the King's Champion, received her shield and revealed her true sex, there was an uproar and it was declared that she used magic to get her shield. After Keladry's, who was unGifted, reception of her shield, they could not say this. However, some secretly thought that real girls could not become knights; only tall, muscular girls could; ones that were built like men anyway. Real girls couldn't take the stress and the physical aspects. Lady Keladry ignored these jibes and continued doing what she did best; protecting those who need her help.

"Would you let me be a page, if I wanted to?" Romilly asked her mother. "Would you let me be a knight?"

Ianthe and her mother laughed. "Dear Romilly, you couldn't be a knight even if you tried. You're far too small and skinny, and most girls who go to be pages are country nobles; ones who know how to hunt and use bows already. You don't know anything of the sort!"

Romilly let out of a puff of air, looking moody. "I thought you said I could be anything I wanted to be."

"You can, dear, you can," Lady Theodora soothed. "I just don't want you to suffer too much. If you're a page you'll have to grow muscles and you won't be considered a court beauty like your sister. Our family's in favour at court, and we've got money in our coffers. With your looks, you could marry nearly anybody you want."

"Even a prince?"

"Yes, even a prince."

Romilly smiled. "Then that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to marry a prince!"

Theodora and Ianthe looked at each other a little uneasily. Romilly was still young; she would learn as she grew older.

Midwinter HE 470

Lord Marcus of Larinth was a powerful man at court. His family was old; it was in the Book of Silver, and he was rich after having helped keep Scanra at bay over the years and then Tusaine. Lord Marcus was a good knight and a terrific commander. He had three children; two girls and a boy. His eldest daughter, Ianthe, was the most beautiful girl at court and she had every eligible bachelor fawning over her. His second daughter, Romilly, was the spitting image of Ianthe and everybody predicted great things for her. His son, Marcus the Younger, was barely two and was only able to bash at pillars with a wooden sword as yet. Lord Marcus was a progressive; he did not mind the changes made to the system by King Jonathan and the Queen Thayet as much as some others. He did, however, believe that a man would make a better warrior more easily than a woman.

Lord Marcus had two houses; his castle in Fief Larinth and his town-house in the richest part of Corus. His wife, Theodora, and Romilly lived there most of the time whilst he was busy doing border patrol or helping out with the King's Own. Ianthe had only been presented at court recently and Theodora, though she did not want to impend upon Ianthe's palace life, wanted to hear any bad gossip as quickly as possible and deal with it immediately so that Ianthe, and therefore her family's name would not be sullied.

It was Midwinter and Lord Marcus was in Corus. The whole family was staying in the palace in preparation for the huge feast. Ianthe had bought several new dresses and Romilly was given some pretty new dresses too. Marcus the Younger, unfortunately, was too young to sit in court. To be truthful, Romilly was too, but she was such a well-behaved girl that most people did not mind her presence. Indeed, most people paid much attention to her; she was going to be a huge prize on the marriage market in later years and it was a good idea to make a good impression as early as possible.

Romilly wanted to sit near her sister, which Lady Theodora disapproved of, but she let Romilly do so anyway. Romilly did count as a young, unmarried woman, so Ianthe's table was actually the most fitting for her. The other girls at Ianthe's table all knew Romilly and they all teased her and made her laugh and played with her. Romilly was a good-natured girl and went along with it all well.

Dinner was served and servants laid out dishes. The young women did not eat much; they worried about their figures, so most of it was fed to Romilly, who unfortunately did not have a very large stomach and became quite full before the main course even arrived. Pages dressed in scarlet and gold came to wait upon them at their table. Their page was a second-year. He had curly, dark brown hair and the bluest eyes Romilly had ever seen. He was polite, kind and courteous; the easiest kind of guy to flirt with. Despite the poor boy being only twelve, all the girls at the table fluttered their lashes and teased him.

"What is your name, page?" Lady Arabelle asked, when he had managed to extricate himself from Ianthe.

"I am Jasson of Linsoll Peak, milady," he replied.

Linsoll Peak was a rather insignificant fief just east of Mindelan. Like Mindelan, it belonged to a new noble. Jasson wasn't old blood. Despite being rather heavenly-looking, he would not be a very good catch when he was older unless he managed to obtain many riches.

"My little sister Jayne wants to be a page. What do you make of the current situation? Would the other pages take it well?" she asked.

Jasson looked thoughtful. "It is quite a good time for girls to be pages. Hazing is at an all-time low and everybody is relatively relaxed, apart from Duke Padraig of course, but he is never relaxed. If she can withstand the harsh training, then I am sure she will be made reasonably welcome. There hasn't been a girl since Marisa of Whitethorn left two years ago."

"Is being a page really that awful?" Romilly asked. Jasson looked at her, amused at her small stature.

"I don't think so, but I have a knack with most weapons. I find it easier than most and I like training in my spare time. Are you considering being a page, milady?" he asked.

Romilly blushed and a few other girls at the table giggled at her reaction. "No, of course not. I'm going to be a lady, like my sister."

"I was wondering if the two of you were identical twins and one had simply shrunk." Jasson smiled at them. "You will make a very good lady, I'm sure, just like your sister. Are you going to the convent at the City of the Gods?"

Romilly nodded. "I'm going to go in the spring, once the roads clear."

"I pity you, my dear. My elder sister went there and she said it was the most hideously boring place she had ever visited. She regrets not becoming a page; palace life is so much more interesting."

"I just want to be like my sister," Romilly declared.

"Your sister is wonderful, no doubt, but wouldn't you rather be something special? Something a little different, perhaps?"

"Like a page?" A girl suggested from further down the table.

Everybody tinkled with laughter. "Romilly, a page!"

Romilly scowled. "I can be whatever I want to be!"

"That's a good attitude to have," Jasson told her quietly, smiling.

The rest of the girls carried on laughing.

"I don't think Romilly's ever touched a sword, even though her father's a Knight!" Ianthe told everybody. "I'm sorry, dear, but I think this is perhaps one thing you cannot do."

"I can't imagine little Romilly lifting a staff and hitting someone with it. She's the most feminine creature I know; she loves her embroidery and jewels," a girl added.

"Romilly learning a man's deportment. Oh, my!" another girl shrieked. "Romilly wielding a sword!"

"It will probably be bigger than she is!"

"Romilly is the most unlikely to become a page, don't you think?"

"Yes, I couldn't agree more. She would never survive more than a few days, even if she did enter!"

"I would not!" Romilly contended hotly, bright spots of colour in her cheeks. "Mama always said I could be whatever I want to be. If I want to be a knight, that's what I shall be."

"But Rom, dear, be realistic! You haven't got the physical attributes of a Lady Knight." Ianthe said, smoothing Romilly's curls.

"It doesn't mean I can't be one!" Romilly felt like crying. Everybody was laughing at her, saying she couldn't be a page. She could! She'd show them! She was going to be a page, and show them that she wasn't a scaredy-cat like other girls. When other girls had shied away, she had stepped forwards and grabbed the snake, or climbed the tree. She could be a page, if she wanted.

"Yes, Romilly, you can be one, but you're much better off being what your sister is," Arabelle told her. "A lady." Romilly scowled. "We'll see about that."

The next day, she told her mother and father she was going to be a page. They were surprised, but they gave her permission. Nobody could refuse Romilly anything when she wanted something really badly. Theodora regretted it afterwards, but Marcus was secretly proud; he didn't want sissies for daughters.

Romilly entered the palace at Corus in the spring. Her mother and her sister had tried to persuade her out of it, but Romilly was adamant that she would be a knight. She told them that she'd work hard and try to build just enough muscle—not so much that she'd be unattractive.

Lord Marcus had written the letter requesting that his daughter train at the palace. The King wrote back saying that Romilly could have a place. Under Lord Wyldon's training, Keladry of Mindelan had had to go on probation, but Alanna the Lioness had made sure that the new training master would not discriminate between girls and boys too much. The King himself decided that that it was perhaps a little unfair and putting girls on probation was scrapped. However, discrimination continued and that in itself was enough to deter many.

Romilly, however, had a strange sense of self-belief; that she was invincible and could do anything. It was the result of being completely and utterly spoilt by her over-adoring parents and of her sister's seeming omnipotence. Ianthe of Larinth had entered court in Midwinter HE 469 and had been an immediate hit with the men. She had the charming combination of being beautiful and witty and therefore made friends easily. Ianthe was no doubt a very intelligent woman and she made wise decisions regarding the men she associated with. She knew just when to bait them and when to put them down. Romilly always stared in wide-eyed awe when her sister came to visit bearing many, many gifts from her many, many admirers.

Those at court who had heard that Romilly of Larinth had been accepted to be a page at the palace were astonished and often asked again if it was really Romilly of Larinth, of all people, who was doing this. They would shake their heads and say that it was just a passing idea and that Romilly would come to her senses soon enough and leave. Some suggested that she was eyeing out her future husbands; deciding which ones were going to be successful in the future. Others did not credit Romilly with that intelligence. Nonetheless, there was less hostility against Romilly entering simply because they saw it as an act of frivolity on her part. They thought it entertaining.

She went to the palace with her father, who was delighting in this whole affair. Romilly was dressed in a pretty blue dress that made her eyes seem really bright. Her hair was done up nicely with ribbons and bows. Lord Marcus and Romilly entered Duke Padraig's study together.

"Lord Marcus, Lady Romilly, please be seated," Duke Padraig said in a cool, collected manner. His face was worryingly stern. Lord Marcus immediately began to be anxious about Romilly's life at the palace. Lord Marcus was somebody who reacted on instinct; on the spur of the moment. He did not think his actions through that well. Usually, his instincts were spot on. As a commander on the battlefield, this was an asset. Sometimes, this was a drawback.

"Lady Romilly, you wish to be a knight, do you not?" Duke Padraig asked, peering down at her from his lofty height. Romilly was small even for a girl; she scraped by at four feet and five inches.

"Yes, Duke Padraig," Romilly replied, bowing her curly head.

"You understand the implications of this? Becoming a knight is no palace game; you must work hard, harder than all the boys because you are physically weaker and smaller than them."

"Yes."

"There are many rules too, which you have been sent. There are some specific rules for you, such as keeping the door open when you have a boy in your room. You mustn't flirt, either," Duke Padraig told her sternly. "You must not be a distraction to the boys; you are hindering their learning. This may be a frivolity to you, but some of these boys are truly dedicated."

"As am I," Romilly replied firmly, looking up at him with a steadiness in her eyes that made Duke Padraig wonder whether all the court gossip about Lord Marcus' two rather fetching daughters being complete airheads was true or not.

"My daughter is not as stupid as rumour would suggest, Duke Padraig," Lord Marcus said quietly, guessing what the older man was thinking. "She's got a quick mind and determination. She'll get through this."

Padraig haMinch glanced at Lord Marcus. He liked the man, even if he was a progressive. Once, Lord Marcus had saved his life. "We'll see." He turned to Romilly. "You must also cut your hair; it is not practical. Do you have a personal maid?"

"Yes, Duke Padraig. She will be coming tomorrow."

"Then she will cut your hair. It must be no longer than shoulder length though for comfort I would recommend it be cut shorter."

Romilly swallowed. Her long, tumbling, curling locks were a source of pride and joy to her. She steeled herself; she knew that she'd have to do this. Long hair was impractical if one was a knight.

Padraig haMinch stood up and Romilly and Lord Marcus did so too automatically. "The room across the corridor is where you can say your farewells. Salma will come for Romilly and take her to her assigned room. Unpack your things, and stand in the hall when the bell rings. You will be chosen by a sponsor then. Have you any questions?"

Romilly had many things she wished to ask, such as, when did she have time to visit her parents or go to the market-stall in Corus, but she bit her tongue. Her father had told her to speak as little as possible before going into the room. Padraig haMinch disliked loud women.

"No, Duke Padraig."

Romilly stood in the corridor, dressed in men's clothing. She felt horribly awkward, wearing breeches and tunic that were too large for her. She was given a room that was always assigned to a girl; it had a magical lock that could not be broken.

Other pages were also massing in the corridor and they were staring at her, open-mouthed.

"It's a girl!" someone whispered loudly.

"Romilly of Larinth," another replied. "My brother's courting her older sister, Ianthe."

"The court beauty?"

"Yes, they're sisters."

Romilly hid her face behind her hair and tried to keep quiet. She felt awfully alone and friendless. She wished so much that Nina could have come today, rather than the day after. However, Nina's sister had just given birth and she couldn't get away quickly enough.

More and more boys flooded the corridor. They were all strangely still. Romilly stood next to her door, not knowing what to do. She knew what to do if a man proposed, she knew what to do at court functions. She did not know what to do, however, if she was a page and surrounded by a multitude of young men and boys.

"Romilly!" a familiar voice called.

Romilly looked up to see a friendly face. "Jasson of Linsoll Peak, yes?"

Jasson nodded. "So you have become a page, albeit for the wrong reasons."

"I believe that being a knight is a noble's duty," Romilly shot back.

"It is a nobleman's duty to protect his country, but not a noblewoman's," Jasson retorted.

"Times are changing though. I can protect my country just like a man, if I so desire."

"Yes, I suppose you could." Jasson smiled at her. "I will be your page- sponsor, if you wish."

"That would be very nice."

A sudden hush fell on the pages as Duke Padraig appeared at the end of the corridor and strode towards the pages. Very few pages decided to enter the palace during the spring, since it meant that they had to do an extra term of work. Most pages entered in autumn, a few months before Midwinter. One year lasted from the end of September to the beginning of the harvest season the next year. Therefore, Romilly was the only newcomer.

"Romilly of Larinth, welcome to Corus. Who will be her page-sponsor?" Duke Padraig asked briskly.

"I will," Jasson said immediately. "I'll be her page-sponsor."

"I would rather you focus on your studies, Jasson. You have the potential to be a good knight; you cannot be distracted," Duke Padraig said disapprovingly.

"I believe I am capable of being a page-sponsor and working hard at the same time. Indeed, a knight must do many things at once, yes? If I do not train myself to apply myself to different things simultaneously, I will suffer when I need to do so as a knight," Jasson replied smoothly.

"Very well," Duke Padraig said, relenting. "You will be her page-sponsor."

Romilly smiled gratefully at him. She was worried that she'd get somebody who was mean to be her page-sponsor. She was sure Jasson would be lovely.

The pages made their way to the mess-hall where a nourishing meal of soup, crusty bread and a thick slice of ham. "This is what we always eat," Jasson grumbled as we seated ourselves, after Duke Padraig gave the blessing. "Duke Padraig believes that we must try and simulate what a knight must do when he works. That means eating a small amount of the same thing for a long period of time." He smiled. "Mind you, I'd probably be eating this at home too. My family's dirt-poor for nobles."

"You're family's not really a noble family though, is it, Jasson?" A tall, dark-haired boy teased good-naturedly from opposite us. "It's not in any of the noble genealogies."

"Well that's why they named me after the King's grandfather. At least my forename, if not my surname, is in the history books," Jasson replied, smiling.

"Imagine if you were a few years older. Then you'd be a page at the same time as Prince Jasson. That would be a hoot, wouldn't it?" The dark-haired boy turned to Romilly. "I'm Jerran of Hollyrose. My older brother Merric was a friend of Keladry of Mindelan. Welcome to the palace."

"Thank you," Romilly smiled warmly at him.

"I'm also related to Faleron of King's Reach, who is also a friend of Lady Kel. My mother says I resemble Faleron more than anyone else. Merric has the reddest hair you'll ever see."

Romilly laughed.

"I must say, you have the longest hair a page has ever had," Jerran leaned forward and tugged on a blonde curl that had escaped from the horsetail that I had bound my hair in.

Rom sighed sadly. "I have to cut it tomorrow."

"I'd hate to have such long hair," Jasson remarked, after swallowing a piece of bread. "It would be so impractical."

"I took ages growing it," Romilly moaned. "Nina will probably cry when she cuts it."

"Who's Nina?" Jerran asked.

"My maid, she's coming tomorrow."

"Is she as pretty as you?" a boy from further down the table asked.

Romilly blushed and a few pages laughed.

Generally, Romilly was treated nicely by the pages. They viewed her less as part of the changes going on in Tortall, but more as a little girl trying out something new for fun. Everybody expected her to leave after her first term.

Romilly was friends with Jasson, who, it transpired, was the best page in the year. Being friends with him made sure that she was not hazed unnecessarily, although collecting gloves or books was still done. Despite training for a shield, Romilly still thought that it was the duty of men to protect her. To make sure that protection was always near, she never left her rooms without Jasson, who lived a few doors down. Jerran of Hollyrose was also a friend of hers, and also a few other pages; Laurence of Penrod and Rhys of Bristone. Jerran, Laurence and Rhys were all really Jasson's friends, and they kindly adopted Romilly into their little circle.

Romilly's good memory came to good use in the mornings, when they had lessons. She could read and write and do basic arithmetic, so she was not too behind in lessons. She picked things up quickly and although being surprised at some of the teachers (including Tkaa, a rather effeminate basilisk and Lindhall Reed, who had a skeleton called Bonedancer as a pet), she enjoyed her lessons. Etiquette she found awkward, but being quite observant, she already knew more men's etiquette than she originally had thought she did. Jasson was good at his studies, but it was on the training fields that he excelled.

Romilly hated training. She really, really hated it. However, she did understand the reasons for having her hair cut. She had to learn to grapple (as termed by a rather gloomy Jerran) from Hakuin Seastone the Shang Horse, a surprisingly cheerful Yamani. Romilly had learnt absolutely no self- defence or fighting before and easily came up bottom of her class. Her wrists and arms felt sore from jarred so much whilst learning to fall. She managed, however, and went on to learn basic punches, kicks and throws. Being many stones lighter, she found, was a disadvantage, since she found it a huge task to throw the others but others found it easy to throw her. She discovered sailing through the air a pleasurable experience, eventually, but the falling through the air was not. Staff-work with Sergeant Ezeko and Duke Padraig was little better. Her arms got tired three times as fast as everybody else. Archery, however, was the worst. She had never touched a bow in her life before and had to be taught, right from the beginning. Riding, she thought would be all right—until she realised that she had to ride like a man, not side-saddle.

Romilly complained loudly about her natural disadvantages to Jasson profusely over dinner. Jasson was quiet at first.

"You know, Romilly, when you decided to become a page, you did so with full knowledge of these disadvantages. You cannot stop and complain now, unless you want to give up already?"

"No!" Romilly shouted, drawing a few glances. She shrank a little until the looks disappeared. "I'm just frustrated."

"I could help you, you know."

"How?" Romilly asked eagerly. "Is there a trick?"

"No," Jasson sighed. "Only hard work. Putting on muscle, that kind of thing."

"I don't want to be ugly and muscular though," Romilly moaned. "I still want to be able to hold my head amongst my peers when it comes to the time for me to marry."

Jasson laughed. "You cannot have everything, Romilly."

Romilly lifted her chin stubbornly. "I will try. I will train with you as often as possible."

"Wake up before dawn and I will come and teach you some exercises."

"All right."
Jasson's early-morning training helped, although Romilly feared that her lack of sleep was going to stunt her growth. Therefore, she did all her homework very quickly and went to sleep a few hours before everybody else. She woke up before dawn everyday and Jasson came to help her build up her strength. Every evening, Romilly would stare at her shoulders and arms in the mirror dubiously, wondering if they were beginning to resemble a blacksmith's arms, but she had started off skinny and the extra muscle she was gaining did not look as bad as she thought. Romilly improved marginally in grappling, but still found staff-work more tiring than the others. Her archery steadily improved, until she could finally get the arrow to hit somewhere on the target. She learned to ride sufficiently well.

Romilly did not get bullied as such but there were pages that chose to ignore her or be rude. Duke Padraig remained silent on the matter, but he did not meddle with Romilly's affairs; he did not encourage her in any way nor did he discourage her. He personally thought that it wouldn't take any discouragement to stop Romilly from coming back in the autumn. During practice, she inevitably got hit by staffs on the knuckles, which left horrible bruises. There were not so many problems regarding riding and getting a good horse since she had a mount (albeit a most un-battle-worthy creature), a pony named Sunny, who, although entirely unfit to be a knight's mount, did not bite at least. Sunny used to be Ianthe's pony, until she shot up was therefore too tall. Sunny, still, however, lived in the palace stables and was a good friend of Stefan the hostler.

Romilly also learned the basics of sword-fighting and was pleased to discover that this was one thing she was not the worst at. Her speed and natural elegance made her look less awkward and more fluid in her movements. Rom was also a bit more limber than the boys and if a girl-hater decided that she deserved an extra hit with the practice sword, she always managed to dodge the swipe. Romilly was not, however, allowed to try using the lance, like the more advanced first-years were, since she was a bad rider. Determined not to fall behind, Romilly rode on Sunny an hour extra every day. Together with her studies and exercises and eventually, extra practice with the staff, Romilly's free time decreased steadily.

Jasson had the Gift, although Romilly didn't and Romilly constantly asked him to remove the bruises she acquired. Jasson's friend Laurence, who was Gifted too, did his own share of complaining. The lessons for the Gifted were being taught by a mage from the university who was big on theory rather than practical magic. All the Gifted pages talked about Numair Salmalín, a black robe.

"They have a black-robe living in the palace, and yet they don't make him teach us!" Laurence always said.

"Well, he is awfully busy," Jasson argued. "I personally like Master Croft. I'm not too good with practical magic; my Gift is so pathetic. I like learning the theory though."

"There are a thousand mages out there who would be more damned interesting that Master Croft!" Laurence exclaimed. "Including Master Numair! I wish we had him. He taught the pages about Immortals, specialising in dragons, for a while before, but after the birth of his son, he's been far too preoccupied."

"Do you think that Dareios will be both Gifted and a Wildmage?" Rhys asked. "I know he's only two, but one of the Masters talked about the possibility of Dareios surpassing his father, even, in terms of power."

"I thought the Gift and Wild Magic didn't mix. Nobody else has both." Jasson shrugged.

"Well, nobody else has a black-robe for a father and a Wildmage for a mother," Laurence retorted.

"What does Master Numair look like? Have I seen him before?" I asked. "Does he wear his black robes? I haven't seen anyone dressed so."

"No, Master Numair says that those things are sweat-inducing," Laurence replied. "If I was a black-robe, I'd wear my robe all the time. There's no point hiding your achievements."

"Isn't the robe system a Carthaki tradition?" I asked. "Don't we have a different system?"

Jasson nodded. "Master Numair used to live in Carthak. He was best friends with the Emperor Mage Ozorne, until Ozorne turned against him in jealousy."

"I'm so relieved that Carthak is finally settling down," Rhys commented. "My father is a mage as well as a knight and the King sent him to Carthak to aid Emperor Kaddar."

"I don't know why the people rebelled against Emperor Kaddar so," Romilly mused. "He's very good-looking for an Emperor."

Romilly found being a page more enjoyable than she had thought it would be. She liked the routine of things. She became more adept at the use of weapons, though she was still much worse than most other people. She was faster though, which she tried to use to her advantage. Jasson was a real help. During the summer, the pages went camping in the Royal Forest. Everybody half-expected there to be a spidren attack or something terrifying like that, but the experience was dismally dull. The teachers made them practise scouting and tracking, but other than that, not much happened,

Her family returned to the estate on Fief Larinth for the harvest. Her father was immediately deported to the Tusaine border, however, so the house was inevitably quieter. Ianthe was horrified to discover that Romilly decided to train throughout the summer and often brought a tape measure to measure her arm circumference. Lady Theodora also thought it appalling that Romilly was so taken with the idea. Everyday, Romilly would do exercise in the early mornings, jogging around the battlements of the castle and then she would practise archery for an hour and staff-work and sword-play with the guards, who thought it hilarious that little Romilly was a page.

Romilly was beginning to resent this attitude towards her and even though she wasn't required to have her hair cut so short, still trimmed it when it grew longer than necessary. She started to insist on being called 'Rom' too, saying that Romilly was too feminine. She was determined to be good at being a boy. She stopped worrying so much about growing muscles. She didn't like to leave things half-done. If she was going to be a knight, she was going all the way.

During the summer, she turned eleven, which meant that as a first year page, she would be older than everyone else. Her return to the palace was a huge surprise to everyone, including her family. Ianthe and Theodora had given 'Rom' one last talking-to, trying to dissuade her from being a page again, but Rom was adamant. She was going to go back.

Duke Padraig was equally surprised, but didn't say much of it. He made an effort to treat Romilly equally to the other boys. He did, after all, owe Romilly's father his life.

Rom's reunion with Jasson was interesting. Both of them had shot up several inches over the harvest and Jasson's skin was several shades darker. Due to the fact that both of them had grown exactly the same amount, neither of them realised that their heights had increased. However, Laurence and Rhys, who had grown less, both proclaimed both to be taller. Romilly's blonde hair was now almost white from the constant sun it was subjected to and her skin was light brown and dotted with freckles, which she secretly abhorred but chose to ignore.

At the end of September, several new pages joined them, including Prince Liam. Everybody was very subdued; nobody knew what to expect of the Prince. Prince Roald was undoubtedly a reserved and painfully polite person, but his younger brother Prince Jasson was much louder and brasher. People didn't know whether to expect him to be like Roald or to be like Prince Jasson.

From the moment everybody saw him, it became apparent that he was in no way like Roald and in actual fact, a loud and talkative, laughing boy. He found it hilarious that Jasson shared a name with his brother and couldn't stop cackling about it. Romilly decided to add running on the battlements of the palace to her exercises. She found that doing so in the summer had increased her stamina quite a bit.

In the mornings, she woke up an hour before dawn to do her stretches and exercises, usually with Jasson (in her room—with the door open of course). When she had first tried to do this, she had been a complete mess. Jasson taught her an exercise where she had to lift herself off the floor using her arms, lower herself partway and lift herself up again. Jasson called them 'push-ups' and said he had learnt them from the Shang Wildcat who had recently left. At first, Romilly could do one and then she fell exhausted. Now she could manage twenty, though anything more than that was too much.

After her exercises, she would have breakfast and then do class-work in the mornings. Before, it had been training in the mornings and class-work in the afternoon but Duke Padraig had changed it round. Romilly's favourite subject was history, which was taught by Sir Myles of Olau, the Lioness' father. Romilly's least favourite subject was deportment, because she worried that she was forgetting all her women's deportment whilst learning men's. Generally, her class-work was outstanding. She was a fast reader and had a good memory so this part of training to be a page was not such a cause of grief for her.

Then, it was lunch and after that, training on the grounds. On a day where there was no snow or storms, they trained outside. If not, they trained inside. Romilly remained firmly mediocre; she was by no means exceptional but she was no longer bad. Being paired with boys a year younger than herself (fellow first-years) was a help, but she worried about when she was older and boys started to grow muscles at breakneck speed, she'd still have to work really hard for them.

After dinner, Romilly did her homework—for which she allotted one and a half hours and then she did her jog around the battlements with Jasson and then some more exercises to build up strength. She had a satisfaction in routine; in keeping perfect order. She usually slept three or four hours after dusk after a twenty minute soak in the bath to ease her muscles. Nina constantly furrowed her brows and scolded Romilly for being too masculine, but Rom stopped caring.

Rom was introduced to the lance, a weapon which she was dreading having to use. Sunny was such a demure, panic-prone pony and she was scared about waving a big stick in front of her. She did not do as badly as she had thought she would; she was not the worst. She was second-worst. She got hit so hard by the dummy that the breath was knocked out of her, but at least she did not fall off her horse like one of the other first-year.

Midwinter was coming and in her mother and Ianthe's letters to her, Rom realised that they were going to be at the festivities along with her father. They told Rom that they hoped to see her there, but Rom replied saying that it wasn't possible since first-year pages were only to help take plates out of the kitchens to second-years, who helped serve. She told them that Jasson would be serving and if they wanted, he would probably be quite willing to pass messages between them.

Midwinter came and went and Romilly continued her studies as a page. She never became good at using the lance. Everybody else advanced whilst she still got hit by the dummy with dangerous regularity. Duke Padraig always frowned at her and shouted at her and she always tried harder, but nothing seemed to be any good. She could not manage to focus on the target whilst riding a horse and if she focused, she lowered her lance-point. However, her staff-work improved and she, with some second-years, was allowed use of the glaive, a Yamani weapon which was taught by a Yamani woman called Yukimi. Yukimi was very, very pretty and as a result, many of the young pages there were sent back to be taught some more staff-work and Yukimi exclaimed that they could not possibly use the glaive—which was a staff with eighteen inches of sharp steel at the end—if they could not perform the most basic blocks. Yukimi of Queenscove was married to Sir Nealan of Queenscove, who was Duke Baird's son and was both a mage and a knight. However, he was truly strange since after studying at the university for some years, he decided to be a knight. A few years into his knighthood, he decided that a university education would be beneficial too and went to study at the university for a while. Sir Nealan was known to be a good fighter as well as a healer; he had been, after all, the Lioness' squire.

Romilly had wondered a little why she hadn't been given any support by the Lady Knights in existence; she thought that they would try and encourage her. She asked Jasson this and he explained that Lady Knights (or more specifically, Alanna) were not allowed to speak to girl-pages because the credibility of the girl's acquisition of the shield would be in question. It wasn't as bad as when Keladry had been page; the Lady Knights were allowed in the palace and in Corus and did not snap at the King, but it was a rule that in order for the girl-page to be recognised fully by her peers, it would be best for her to go through her years without guidance.

That summer, their excursion was to hill-country east of Corus. The area had already been cleared of bandits and the pages spent their time playing 'tag' and climbing trees, to Padraig's distaste, rather than being on the look-out.

"It's useless telling us to keep on the look-out for bandits, you know," Laurence told her, as they were sent looking for sticks. "Everybody knows that the whole area is cleared and guarded before pages are allowed in. Once, bandits managed to attack pages, my brother Merric and cousin Faleron among them, and almost killed them. It was only because of Keladry of Mindelan that they were saved."

"Look here at the love-birds," somebody said behind them. Rom and Laurence turned round.

It was Emmett of Arbon, one of the pages who always tried to hit Rom as often as possible. Usually he didn't dare challenge her outright, because nobody messed with Jasson, but now it was just him, a few of his cronies, Rom and Laurence.

Rom immediately began to panic.

"You run," Laurence whispered quickly. "Get Jasson. I'll hold them off you."

"I don't know where Jasson is!" Rom exclaimed, heart pounding. She looked nervously at Emmett, Reagan, Ivason and Omarin surround them in a circle.

"Going to run and fetch your bodyguard?" Reagan taunted. "He's quite distracted himself. You're not as popular as you think, Lady Romilly."

Rom raised her head. "You're cowards."

"No, you're the coward, hiding behind a pauper who calls himself a noble," Ivason replied.

"That pauper who calls himself a noble could beat the four of you to pulp single-handedly!" Rom shouted. "You don't dare to fight him, like men!"

"And what are you, a lady?" Emmett asked. He smiled. "You're no lady."

"I am a lady and I always shall be. I will be a Lady Knight."

"Don't pretend, Romilly. Everybody knows you're here to seduce the prince, not to be a knight." Omarin, the Bazhir, scoffed.

"What?"

"My brother heard your sister talk about you making a promise that you'd marry the prince, Prince Liam," Ivason said.

"I never!"

"Liar!"

Emmett came at her, his fists balled. Laurence got to him before he managed to hit Romilly. Emmett fell backwards, nursing a rapidly blackening eye.

"Run, Rom, run!" Laurence shouted, glancing back at Romilly. He was rapidly given a punch to the stomach by Omarin and he doubled over, coughing. Ivason and Reagan immediately began to join in beating up Laurence.

Romilly hadn't known what to do, but Laurence's state made her decision for her. She was going to fight. After all, if she was going to be a knight, she couldn't run away.

Steeling her resolve, she charged into the fray.

Twenty minutes later, Romilly and the others stood before Duke Padraig, being yelled at profusely. They were given extra work to do as a result and everybody was angrier. Jasson, to Romilly's surprise, was pleased.

"I thought you needed a toughing-up. You do all those exercises so that you aren't a weakling on the practice courts but then you hide behind me the rest of the time."

Romilly opened her mouth to protest but Jasson ruffled her hair, smiling. "It's true, though, Rom. I'm a third-year now, but the year after next I will be a squire and you will be a third-year. You will have two years as a page without me and you need to be prepared. I am sure there are many who would like to see you sent away. My presence has reduced outright attacks against you but if I'm not here, you'll be vulnerable."

Romilly nodded. "You're right."

"Good, now let me see if I can get rid of that bruise."

Life as a second-year page was the same, mostly, only Romilly was not so small and was able to sponsor people. However, she didn't sponsor anybody, partly because she feared that they would resent it. After the confrontation with Emmett, Ivason, Reagan and Omarin, she began to notice the hostile glares from more and more pages. They no longer viewed her as a girl having fun; they saw her as some sort of bizarre radical. Her sister wrote as often as possible, begging her to give up, to stop; association with Romilly was driving suitors away; they thought that there was some sort of madness in the family.

Rom considered leaving. After all, she was sure she could never be more than mediocre as a knight. However, upon looking back, she realised how small her world had been and how much she had misunderstood everything. She enjoyed being active and having things to do. As a page, she was always busy, whether it was something fun like sword-fighting or riding or something less fun like mucking up the stables after getting into a fight. Romilly gradually improved with the physical aspects of her work, but she found building up muscle incredibly difficult. Her breasts were also beginning to grow and having to wear a weighted harness was uncomfortable. Rom also began to become more and more paranoid about starting her monthlies. Quite often she would suddenly have a strange cramp and as soon as she had a moment to herself, she checked to find blood on her loincloth. Rom was also growing faster; she had reached five foot four at the age of twelve, which she was very proud of. Ianthe was five foot five and she was many years older. However, it seemed that Rom seemed to take after her mother's tall, willowy, rather brittle figure rather than Ianthe's smaller, curvier form. Indeed, with the amount of exercise she was doing, it was going to be impossible to have Ianthe's figure. It was something that sometimes Romilly regretted but never for long.

As a lady, she would be a great success. Romilly knew she had a pretty face, even though her figure was becoming more masculine by the day. As a knight, she would not be such a great success. In fact, she would probably be the worst knight in the history of Tortall. Perhaps as a second-year page she would be average but when the boys started to grow taller and grow more muscular in the third year or fourth year, she would become more disadvantaged. However, she had realised that no matter how good she was at being a lady or how bad she was at being a knight, being a knight was always going to be more worthwhile.

Romilly, thinking ahead, realised her short-comings in the future, and began to focus on specific weapons. Rather than working hard on building up her strength, which she knew she would never surpass men in, she decided to practise running. She built up her speed and agility, which were things that she could be better at more easily. She kept up her glaive-work; pole arms were no affected so much by strength. She also worked hard at sword- play, focusing more on dodging blows rather than parrying. This frustrated her partner quite often when they did freestyle swordplay, since he was always expecting his blow to be blocked by armour or a blade and instead found his sword to be travelling through air and as a result, flailed around for a while whilst he regained his balance. Rom always won when it came to freestyle sword-play; she was too fast and flexible; she could bend into positions most boys couldn't in practice armour. Rom was always a dismal failure with the lance. Against the quintain, she was reasonable; half of the time she could get her lance somewhere on target, but when she decided to try charging against a boy (namely Jasson) she got sent flying. She was still a few stone lighter than him and she had a good deal less force behind her blow, so it was understandable. Jasson was also very good with a lance. Rom was good at using the bow, though. She prided herself on being able to shoot on to the bulls-eye almost all the time. However, she once saw the Wildmage practise archery in the courts and saw that Veralidaine Sarrasri could put many arrows in a cluster right in the centre; not just in the bulls-eye circle.

That Midwinter, she was assigned a table to wait upon for the Feast. As was tradition for girl pages, she was sent to wait upon the Archpriestess of the Great Mother Goddess. Rom took in the glorious sights wistfully. I could be one of them, she thought to herself, looking at the table at which her sister sat. All the young women were dressed in beautiful gowns and they were wearing beautiful jewellery. Her own collection had been left at home, forgotten, even the necklace she had been given by an admirer all those years ago. Romilly felt a little regret at deciding to give up that life. It wasn't wrong, after all, to like pretty things.

Ianthe gave the slightest of nods and a smile to Romilly as she went past bearing a bowl of water for the people at her table to wash their hands in. She looked eagerly around the room, searching for the faces of those she had known before and those she had heard of; the King Jonathan and Queen Thayet sat at the largest table, surrounded by peers of the realm and important people; Lady Alanna the Lioness, Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, Sir Gareth the Younger, Lady Keladry of Mindelan, Numair Salmalín, Veralidaine Sarrasri, among others.

The evening went well, generally. Ivason tried to trip her up when she went by, bearing a platter of fish, but Rom could not, in any way, be called clumsy and she deftly skirted round him when she spotted the potential danger.

That spring, Romilly took her second-year examinations. She passed them, as she did the first-year examinations; they were largely verbal and thankfully being excessively good with a lance was not a requirement. The examiners were known to be the most conservative of conservatives but if questions were answered faultlessly, as Romilly made sure she did, they could not fail her. She watched anxiously as Jasson, too, had his fourth- year examinations. They were longer and more difficult, but he managed to pass easily. In the months following, there was a congress as squires were chosen by knights. Jasson was chosen by Sir Nealan of Queenscove and left quite quickly for the northern border, since Scanran raiders were, once again, causing trouble.

Romilly said goodbye to him, feeling strangely teary. She had not cried in years. He told her to take care of himself and then left.

Her father, visiting her, noticed how forlorn she was and to give her spirits a boost, he gave her a mare; a reddish-brown coloured creature whom Romilly named Scarlet, even though the mare wasn't that colour. It made her feel a little better; Sunny, who was a rather small pony, was too small for her now and she hoped that on a bigger horse she would be better with the lance. All the other boys did, after all, use geldings and mares. It was something that had always prickled her; that she used a pony, an animal that was not the most combat-worthy.

That summer, they went into hill-country again, though it was not the same place as the year before. This time they went up into the north, where the hills were not really hills, but rather like small mountains. Duke Padraig, realising that with the absence of Jasson, Romilly was now a target for cowardly bullies, made sure that she was given work largely within his line of sight just in case she was hurt. It wasn't that he was particularly fond of Romilly, but rather that he didn't want to see a page get hurt and Romilly seemed to be in danger more than others. The boys were a little more subdued this year than the year before, probably because Jasson's year had been so large and rowdy. To Romilly's relief, Laurence and Rhys were still pages, albeit third-year ones. She mentally made a note to make some new friends in the next year; else she would be friendless and ally-less in her fourth year as a page. Thankfully Emmett and Ivason were gone, though the Bazhir Omarin and Reagan were still pages. At summer camp they learned to map the mountainous area and to track animals and such. It was all hideously tame and Rom found it quite enjoyable. She missed Jasson's company and his quiet, deprecating manner, strangely, but Laurence and Rhys were very kind and she remained on good terms with them.

Rom's two-month holiday was spent in Corus. Every day she went to the palace to ride Scarlet and to run along the battlements. She practised her glaive-work with Yuki, who was always very kind, and had a half-hearted attempt with the lance, but without Duke Padraig's exacting gaze upon her, she did worse than usual. It depressed her so much that she gave up. Rom's monthlies started in the holidays, which was a cause of celebration in her household. Her mother and sister hoped that this movement into womanhood would make her realise the folly of being a page and that she would stop all her muscle-growing activity and be a proper girl again. To be truthful, Romilly was not all that muscular. She was not even stocky. She was a reasonable height, and if she hadn't got all that muscle beneath her clothing, she would have been painfully thin, to the point of skinniness. She had very small and delicate bone structure (not the most battle-worthy bones, certainly) and the muscles made her look wiry, rather than bulky.

In late September, Romilly packed her things and returned to the palace with Nina.

Romilly survived her third year as a page. She got into three times as many fights as before, but she had come out of them reasonably intact. She'd broken her nose and once even her jaw, but it was nothing Duke Baird couldn't fix. Training was much the same as before, although the Shang Wildcat Eda Bell returned to Corus and joined in teaching Hakuin Seastone. Rom was shocked at Eda's age. She looked even older than her grandmother! However, seeing Eda fight gave her inspiration regarding her future as a fighter. If somebody that old could fight that well, she should be able to do even better since she was young and fit.

Eda Bell took a liking to Romilly. She told Rom that she had the makings of a good Shang warrior. She said that tilting and heavy fighting was not for her; she was almost hollow-boned and would never have sufficient weight to do such things better than most other knights. Rom was, however, very agile and took to doing the Shang kicks, punches and leaps very well. Eda Bell also taught Romilly some new exercises, which helped build up her leg muscles. Eda thought that Romilly's kick had potential and with some serious muscle behind it, she could use it to great effect in hand-to-hand combat.

That Midwinter, Romilly was told that she wasn't to serve with the other pages. In fact, she was going to sit with the unmarried women and wear women's clothing. It was her sister's request. Duke Padraig tried to over- rule it, saying that Rom should not be given special consideration and should be treated just the same, which Romilly heartily agreed with, but her sister was engaged to Duke Padraig's nephew, Corrigan haMinch and Corrigan put in a word on Ianthe's behalf.

Rom was sent to a dressmaker, who, Ianthe assured, was the best in all Corus. The dressmaker she was sent to was Lalasa, a pretty, dark-haired woman.

"You're the girl-page, aren't you miss," Lalasa said, whipping the measure around Rom's chest expertly.

"Yes," Rom replied, feeling a little embarrassed. No doubt she was going to be told that girls ought not be pages. She never knew what to say in reply.

"My mistress used to be Keladry of Mindelan. She was the finest page in her year. I'm sure you're just as good."

"You worked for Keladry of Mindelan, the Lady Knight?" Romilly was shocked.

"Yes." Lalasa smiled at her. "You're quite tall for a thirteen-year old, just like she was."

"Girls grow earlier than boys," Romilly replied, looking down at the floor. "Soon I'll be short and I'll lose whatever advantage I might have from my height."

"You don't need to be tall to be able to take care of yourself. You don't even need to be all that strong. You just need to know your enemy's weaknesses and rely on your strengths." Lalasa disappeared into another room and came out with a long length of pink material. "Your sister said that you were to have a pink dress."

"Pink?" Rom was startled. "I haven't worn pink in a while. I think she just wants to feminise me."

"I think that with your fair colouring, you'd be well-suited to pink at any rate." Lalasa remarked, holding the fabric close to Rom's face. "You're awful pretty, you know. Why-ever did you be a page? You look like a girl who had it easy all her life, if you don't mind me saying. Kel always had it tougher and she was a fighter naturally."

Rom shrugged. "I have had it easy all my life. I joined for the wrong reasons; I wanted to prove to other people that I could be a page reasonably successfully, but I found that I enjoy this life. I like training and being active. I like doing physical things. Embroidery holds fascination for me no longer."

"I love embroidery."

"That's why you're a dressmaker and I'm not." Rom smiled at Lalasa, who laughed quietly. "I just like being a page. Besides, nothing I do as a lady will surpass my sister. She's marrying a Minchi."

"Oh, which one?"

"Corrigan haMinch. They're announcing it at the Midwinter Feast."

"Corrigan's sister-in-law, Uline haMinch, previously of Hannalof, is a client of mine. She's married to Corrigan's brother Kieran." Lalasa began to drape the pink stuff over Romilly's body and pin it in places. "This pink suits you wonderfully. You'd be silly not to choose it."

"I'll trust your judgement. I fear that I've lost any judgement I once had in regard to clothing."

Romilly of Larinth sat nervously at the table, fidgeting. Around her, unmarried women were speaking to each other quietly, probably about her. She had not felt this self-conscious for a while. She had a grim satisfaction in noting that, despite all her muscles and short hair, she was still prettier than most other people at her table. It was partly due to Lalasa's clever clothing. It draped over her in a way that accentuated a still-existent waist and hid her masculine biceps. She was glad to discover that her breasts were not as small as she thought they had been. Lalasa assured her that they were perfectly normal and by no means actually pectoral muscles, as Rom had feared.

Rom had actually hoped to see Jasson, since the other squires had come to the palace for the feasts. She asked Yuki when Sir Nealan was returning, and she said that he would probably be fashionably late and make a grand entrance when the feast was in progress. And, Yuki added, Nealan hated to be called Nealan and that he was simply 'Neal'.

The page allotted to her table was Perrin of Arc Valley, who was always friendly to her. He was a second-year; one year younger than she was herself. He was one of those whom Rom was trying to be friends with. Rom was seated beside Meredith of Jeralin. Meredith was seated on her left. One her right was sixteen-year-old Celina of Hannalof, Uline haMinch's youngest sister.

They introduced themselves to each other cordially. Meredith's eyebrows rose slightly when it was revealed that Rom was Lady Romilly of Larinth, the infamous girl-page.

"So, Romilly, do you enjoy being a page?" Celina asked. Celina had curly dark hair which was pinned up and tumbled around her face artistically. She was very beautiful.

"Yes, I do actually," Rom replied. "And please call my Rom. Only my sister and mother call me Romilly nowadays. All the boys call me Rom."

"Rom? Why on earth would you want to be called Rom?" Meredith asked. "Romilly sounds much better."

"I don't like to remind the boys that I'm a girl. I find that the more they forget it, the easier my life is," Rom explained.

"But you're so obviously a girl. And surely, being present at this table is enough to remind them in a way they're not likely to forget?" Celina enquired.

"I doubt they'll recognise me," she replied with some honesty. Nina had taken much delight in applying cosmetics on her for the first time ever and the end result was somebody who looked very different to 'Rom'.

"Really? How funny!" Meredith laughed.

"Is Lady Ianthe really going to be marrying Corrigan? I heard that their engagement was to be announced tonight." Celina remarked. "My sister Uline is married to Corrigan's brother Kieran."

"Yes, I had heard. And yes, it is true that they're engaged to be married." Romilly smiled. "I have never met Corrigan before. I hope that he and Ianthe will b happy together."

"Corrigan's lovely," Celina said reassuringly. "Your sister could not do better. Unfortunately, it does rather leave us younger sisters in an awful position, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"I very much doubt I'll marry a Minchi, or a Queenscove or a Legann or a Naxen. Our sisters have done very well to marry ducal sons." Celina shrugged. "We'll always be failures compared to them."

"Unless we marry princes."

Meredith laughed. "I had heard you were a page because you wanted to seduce Prince Liam, but I had not believed it. Is it true?"

"No, of course not. Prince Liam's a year younger than me at any rate." I shrugged. "I don't think I will marry at all, to be honest."

"Why not?"

"I like to be independent and to take care of myself. I doubt that many men would accept that."

Celina nodded in agreement.

"I'm not entirely suited to marriage either," Meredith admitted. "I'm far too independent and short-tempered; I've considered packing up and training to be a Shang warrior, actually."

"Really?" Celina looked amused. "How interesting."

"The problem is that they start training young so I'm probably too old. Mithros—look at that man over there." Meredith's eyes were fixated on the high table. "Nealan of Queenscove, isn't it?"

"Jasson's back then!" Rom twisted around to see if she could catch sight of Jasson.

"Prince Jasson?"

"No, Jasson of Linsoll Peak. He's my friend." Rom searched among the throng of people at the table but she didn't see Jasson.

"Isn't Sir Nealan handsome?" Meredith sighed.

"Which one is he?" Romilly asked.

"The tall, brown-haired man with green eyes. He's speaking to Keladry of Mindelan at the moment."

Romilly looked at Neal, who was indeed very handsome. So this is Jasson's knight-master, she thought. Neal briefly raised his eyes to look at her and smiled. Rom smiled back and turned round back to the people at her table.

"He's married though, to Princess Shinkokami's lady, Yukimi," she said.

Meredith sighed. "I can see why. Lady Yukimi is both beautiful and clever. Sir Nealan is also a progressive and Yukimi's violent nature would probably be more acceptable to him."

"Yuki isn't violent at all," Rom protested. "She teaches me glaive-work, but she's very gentle really."

"Really." Meredith did not sound convinced.

Dinner was served and when Perrin came by with the bowl of water, she drew him aside and asked him if he knew where Jasson was. Perrin told her that Jasson had been looking for her in the kitchens but hadn't seen her and that he'd told Jasson that Rom was actually seated with the unmarried women.

"Is he coming over then?" Rom asked.

Perrin nodded. "I think so."

Rom quietly began to panic. She didn't want these gossip-hungry unmarried women to jump to the wrong conclusions. She may have been only thirteen, but she looked older and if Jasson made a point to see her they would sully their names spreading rumours.

"Tell him to meet me in the kitchens. I'll go; he doesn't want to be here," she muttered.

Perrin nodded. "I'll try and pass on the message."

She went back to her seat and protested loudly about needing to visit the privy and left, leaving a faintly amused Celina and Meredith. She made her way to the kitchens and sat down on a chair near the entrance. A few of the pages stared at her strangely.

"Rom?" One of the pages asked. "Are you Rom?"

Romilly laughed and nodded. "I was wondering why all of you were looking at me so strangely."

"You're just...different."

Rom shook her head. "Only on the outside. Believe me, my sister forced me into this."

Five minutes later Jasson still hadn't come. She was beginning to worry if Perrin had not relayed her message successfully. Perhaps Jasson had thought seeing her was not a priority and he was talking to some new lady-love. Stop that, Rom thought to herself. Stop it! It wasn't as if Jasson was in love with her anyway. Besides, he was only fifteen and she was only thirteen. Rom sighed. If she had not chosen to be a page she would be presented at court in a few years. Now, she had only big examinations to anticipate and the possibility of being a squire. A squire, Rom thought. When she had signed up to be a page, she had not thought so far as to being a squire. In fact, she had only wanted to prove she would last more than a few days.

"Rom?"

Romilly looked up to see a tall, dark-haired youth with bright blue eyes. "Jasson!" She leapt to her feet and threw her arms around him. "I've missed you awfully!"

"Rom, people are staring," Jasson whispered. Romilly blushed and sat back down.

"Mithros Jasson, you've grown," Rom remarked. "How tall are you now?"

Jasson shrugged. "The same height as Neal I think. You've grown too, actually."

"Five foot six, now."

"How are you doing? Is anybody being mean to you?" Jasson asked, sprawling on to the chair next to her.

"No, I'm fine. You mustn't worry about me. How's Sir Nealan?"

"Neal's terrific. He has, as his father would put it, an endless capacity for drama. He makes endless quips about everything we do and he can never hold his tongue."

"You've met Duke Baird?"

"Yes." Jasson nodded. "He caught me in the hallway. It's why I was late."

"Is being a squire fun then?"

Jasson laughed. "Fun is not the word I would use. It is tiring, especially now that on top of weapons training I'm being taught the use of my Gift."

"Oh that's good. I always thought you were too disparaging of your magical ability."

"How about you?" He asked, changing the subject. "You still doing your exercises? How's the muscle coming along?"

"It doesn't show up as much as I thought it would. I think that I just build muscle up at a snail's pace. Boys can increase muscle so much faster; it's not fair."

Jasson laughed again. "Girls don't usually find excessive muscle of much use to them."

Rom made a face. "I wish that I was really strong, but without much muscle."

"Well, you can't have everything, can you?"

"No, I can't." Rom sighed. "I better get going back. The other girls will be making up stories as I speak. We must talk again later."

"All right." Jasson smiled at her. "Romilly."

Romilly completed her third-year without a problem. During her fourth year, her lance-work improved a touch as did her other weapons work but despite her best efforts she began to fall behind the boys as they grew taller and stronger. Their voices also began to break; a source of much amusement to her.

Rom did not have much of a problem with bullying, but sometimes she got cornered and punched up. It wasn't too much of a problem. She simply gave the traditional excuse 'I fell down' and got her healing done. She focused on her training and kept fit. She gave up a few of her muscle-building exercises and concentrated on her stamina. If she couldn't beat someone with force; she'd wear them out instead by dodging and parrying and eventually she'd be stronger than them; enough to defeat them.

The big exams were something of an anti-climax. They were easier than she'd expected. She had panicked the night before and crammed in as much knowledge as possible, but hardly any of it came in useful. In the end, she passed, just like everyone else.

Her father gave her a new saddle to congratulate her on becoming a squire. Rom thanked him and everybody else who had said well done, but inside she was dreading her next few years. She dreaded that nobody would want to be her knight-master and that she would be a squire to a book-knight. After all the training she had done, what if she lost any strength she might have gained working for a book-knight? Rom shuddered. She was a squire now. A squire. She had not considered before that she would get as far as she had. Her entry to the palace, was not, after all, something she had taken seriously. Being a squire was certainly serious, and a knight even more so. But whether she was going to be a knight at all depended upon the Chamber of the Ordeal. Rom shook her head, trying to clear it of dark thoughts. People had died in the chamber before...she didn't want to die. Was she willing to give up her life in an attempt to become a mediocre knight?

She wasn't so sure now.