A/N: So this popped into my head and I couldn't get rid of it. If you are reading this, please review; I want opinions – they can be good, bad, or indifferent. Reviews make me stupid happy dances ;p
So a quick summary: If you all remember Francis of Nond died in during the Sweating Sickness in Alanna: The First Adventure. (Now my imagination comes in.) After that his older cousin, Paxton became heir of the house of Nond. But since Francis's death no Nond has tried for their shield; until now. Francesca of Nond convinces her family to allow her to try – but she has to wait for Keladry of Mindelan to pass the Ordeal before she is allowed to enter page training. Now that the Lady Knight is off fighting in the north, Francesca is in the palace.
Francesca of Nond bowed to the training master; beside her, her father did the same. Sir Paxton of Nond was rarely seen at court since the disgrace of finding out that his former squire had paid men to kidnap Lady Keladry's maid. That, Francesca thought wryly, and the fact that he almost married me off to the man.
Training master Padraig haMinchi looked her over. "You claim no Gift, is that correct?"
Francesca paused for barely a breath before replying. "That is correct, my lord." His eyes sharpened on her, as though he's noticed the hesitation. He continued on with the rules that all the pages must be given. Except that, naturally, he added one. "A boy may not be in your room with the door close. The same is true if you are in a boys' room. If I find you in such a situation, you will be dismissed at once. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord." Francesca replied, eyes down cast. People often said she was like her cousin Francis in every way – except of course the fact that she was a girl. He dismissed them to say goodbye. Francesca and her father were not particularly close. The first time she'd looked at Joren of Stone Mountain Francesca had warned her father that he didn't want to be tangled in the boys' fate. He hadn't listened. That, coupled with the fact that he had sent her to the convent – she'd only spent three years there; and it had taken a lot of talking and begging to get out.
Francesca was led to her room by a servant named Salam. Instead of unpacking she went into the privy and stared at her reflection. She was – as her mother said – a Nond, through and through. Nond's – she'd been told many times – tended to be tall, broad and blonde, with dark eyes. Apparently the only thing that she'd gotten from her mother was her blue-green eyes and the Sight. Francesca knew that if anyone found out that she was a seer, she would be dismissed from training at once. She didn't care. She went years between prophesies and - Shakith willing – it would be years yet again.
The girl sighed and went to sit on her bed. She rubbed at her face with both hands. She hated that she looked 'just like' a cousin that she'd never met – who'd died before her parents had met. She knew looking at her caused her grandmother – really her father's aunt by marriage, but grandmother was easier – sorrow, because she saw her dead son. Stop feeling sorry for yourself Franny, a voice that sounded like her best friend scolded. You're where you want to be. Aren't you?
If Aisha was here that would be exactly what she'd say. Francesca's smile faded when she thought about how much the friend also wanted to train as a knight; she'd even begged her parents to allow her to be a member of the Queen's Riders if nothing else. But they wouldn't hear of it. They might lose their son to war or combat, they had told her, but they would not lose their daughter. The bell rang and Francesca left her room to wait in the hall like all the other pages. There were four others. All looked about ten – the normal age for pages – Francesca was fourteen. The boy with the room farthest from hers was blonde and pale. With one look Francesca knew that this would be the younger Stone Mountain boy. One boy to the right of her had black hair and blue eyes – Francesca would bet almost anything that his was one of the younger princes. Before she truly got the chance to examine the other four the training master and older pages strolled down the hall.
As the training master pointed to each boy – demanding their name and fief, then a sponsor – Francesca put names to faces. The blonde boy was Gavin of Stone Mountain, who was sponsored by Thomas of Tirragen; Price Liam was sponsored by Fianola of Blue Harbor – the only other girl here. Marrek of Irontown was taken by Turomot of Mcayahill, George of Whitethorn was sponsored by a Bazhir; Heastif ibn Alhaz. Finally the training master pointed to Francesca. "Francesca of Nond, my lord." As she disliked being the center of attention, Francesca had mastered the ability to pitch her voice so that she could be heard clearly.
"Who will sponsor her?" Francesca did not look at the other pages, so she did not see the speaker.
"May I, my lord?"
"Very well, Alan of Pirate's Swoop." Francesca fell into place next to her sponsor – noting all the things he pointed out to her to avoid, or remember. Francesca swallowed several times and squeezed her eyes shut, a headache building behind her eyes. If only she could hold it off until she was sitting. She'd be fine – there was no pressure in her throat or jaw that indicated that a prophecy was coming. Somehow she made it they had barely sat when the vision slammed into her.
Alan stood in the practice courts, his sword in hand. Francesca stood not too far away watching him dual Fianola.
"Who's expected to win?" A voice nearby asked. Turning, Francesca found Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak.
"Could be either, my lord." Francesca responded. "Alan is taller, but Fianola works harder."
"Are you next up?" He asked, sounding amused.
"No, my lord. I just thought I come watch the show."
"Oh? Is seeing them dual so entertaining?"
"No, but rumor has it that Alan's mom is sending a potential knight master to speak with him. His reaction. That is the show I want to see."
When the vision ended Francesca realized that she and the other pages were standing. She tuned in just to hear everyone respond to the end of the blessing. She shook slightly as she sat.
"So are you always this quiet? Or are you just in awe of Alan, because of who his mom is?" Francesca looked over at Fianola and blinked once.
"I have nothing to say," she mumbled.
"Leave her alone, Fia. You were quieter when you started." Alan told the other girl firmly.
"You're pretty tall for a ten year old," Fianola sighed. "I'm jealous."
"According to my mother, my family tends towards height," Francesca told her with a wry edge to her voice. "And I'm a bit older than ten."
"Really? Alan and I started at twelve, as well. Welcome to the club."
"I'm fourteen," Francesca muttered into her roll, hoping no one would hear her. Unfortunately Alan did, and chocked on his drink.
"You're the same age as us?" That got the whole table's attention. Francesca kept her eyes on her plate – refusing to risk meeting anyone's eyes. "Why did you start so late?"
Francesca sighed. "It took me that long to convince my parents to allow it."
"Why," asked Prince Liam. "Are they so against female warriors?"
"Not at all," Francesca told him shaking her head. "They're that against knights. They begged me to join the Queen's Riders. I wanted to earn my shield."
There was silence for a long moment. Alan broke it. "You're going to have to explain that for us."
Francesca sighed again, she hated explaining herself. "I don't have to explain anything." She muttered rebelliously, forgetting that apparently everyone at the table had perfect hearing. She remembered when they all laughed. "My father had a younger cousin who tried for his shield and died as a page. Since then no Nond has entered page training. My older brother chose to join the King's Own."
When they finish dinner the entire group; Alan, Fianola, Liam, and Traver of Mindelan – a second-year and the lady knight's nephew – all went on a tour of the palace. They claimed that it was for both her and Liam's benefit – Francesca knew better – the prince probably knew the palace better than any of the others, but she didn't call them on it. Fianola showed her some exercises to strengthen her arms and back while the boys looked on, surprisingly none of them made any comments other than to offer new exercise. Alan offered to teach her some hand-to-hand that the Shang masters didn't teach.
When she fell into bed that night Francesca fell asleep without her normal problems.