A Copper For Your Thoughts
Lord Wyldon of Cavall sat quietly amongst the trainers and teachers of the Pages. Lord Myles sat on his left, with a quiet smile on his face, while the Shang Wildcat, Eda Bell, sat on his right, leaning forward with an eager expression on her face.
Wyldon was eager as well, though he'd never dare to admit it, or even to show a hint of it in his expression. To outside observers, he appeared as dour as ever, while within, he was glowing with pride.
The King—that damnable King, Wyldon thought in the privacy of his own mind, though without any real venom—was looking at him with a slight grin. He knew. Wyldon would bet his best wolfhounds that the King knew he was looking forward to watching the tests. He probably even knew exactly why Wyldon was a little more excited than usual.
After all, there was one Squire-to-be that stood out from the rest:
Keladry of Mindelan.
The girl.
Not that her gender really mattered to Wyldon anymore. She'd proven that she could keep up with, and even surpass, the male Pages. She had never backed down and always overcome every unfair obstacle in her way.
He was looking forward to seeing her prove that she deserved to be a Squire, and eventually a Knight of the realm. The first (official) Lady Knight in over a century. A Knight who Wyldon would be proud to call a former student.
He was looking forward to watching Keladry of Mindelan prove all of the realm's conservatives—and since when have I not counted myself among their number?—completely wrong.
I may end up being proudest of the one Page that I never wished to train, Wyldon realized, though he quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It wasn't important. Not today.
The audience stilled as the Pages began to gather on the Practice Courts. Wyldon doubted any of them realized this, but they were purposely left to their own devices on the day of the test. None of the teachers or trainers could interact with the Pages before the test, as their punctuality was the first thing to be tested.
With the Immortals War less than five years old, there still weren't many nobles training to be knights. So many had been killed in the fighting, while others had chosen other, safer pursuits. As a result, it only took him a moment to discover that something was very, very wrong.
Keladry of Mindelan was absent.
When the doors closed behind Nealan of Queenscove, Wyldon's excitement gave way to a supreme disappointment.
She's not here.
The crowd around him shifted as they noticed the absence. Keladry of Mindelan, the Girl, was more famous than she probably realized. A number of nobles throughout the realm had followed her progress carefully. Wishing her well or ill, but still keeping their eyes on her. Everyone in the audience knew she was supposed to be there, and was missing.
She gave up, Wyldon thought. All of that effort, all of that hard work, all of that extra training and the obstacles she surpassed…and she didn't come to finish it.
He knew she wouldn't have let herself be late to the exams unless she didn't wish to attend them. Nothing would be able to keep her away.
Nothing except herself.
Kel had surprised him, surpassing every obstacle in her way, defying every prediction Wyldon made, and had proven herself to be the most determined Page he had ever trained.
Where is that determination now? he wondered, for she had already failed the test by not showing up on time.
In the past, before taking Keladry on as a Page, or perhaps even during her probationary year, Wyldon would have accepted Keladry's absence as incontrovertible proof that women were not meant to be Pages. He would have considered it a victory, knowing that tradition had once again proven too robust to be changed.
But now…
All he could feel was pure disappointment.
He glanced at Neal, wondering what the boy was thinking, already conjuring an image of a dejected, mystified boy who was worried about his friend and wondering where she had gone.
Instead, Wyldon saw a nervous boy, staring towards the wing of the Palace where the Pages resided. He was shifting back and forth, wringing his hands, and muttering something under his breath.
The training master stood up and strode over to the twitchy boy, ignoring protocol and years of tradition. Pages and their trainers were absolutely forbidden from interacting from the moment they woke up until the moment they passed the exams.
Wyldon, perhaps for the first time in his life, did not care about tradition or protocol, because he knew that there was something else going on, a mystery that he needed to solve.
"Queenscove," he said, knowing how the Conservatives must have been looking at him and not caring one whit. "Where is Mindelan?"
"What—" Neal choked. "What do you—"
"Queenscove," Wyldon said again, interrupting Neal's panicked question. "I do not have time for your blather. Where. Is. Mindelan."
"I—I don't know, sir," Neal muttered.
"Perhaps another question then," Wyldon continued. "Why is she absent?"
For once, Neal flinched under his icy glare rather than countering it with his usual dry wit. Unable to deflect the training master's gaze, he found himself admitting everything he knew.
As Wyldon listened, his anger turned to rage, and then became something else entirely, something beyond description. For once, Wyldon's conservative sensibilities and his rather new progressive leanings were in complete agreement.
Someone was interfering with the exams. That interference could not be allowed to continue.
Without another word, Wyldon spun on his heel and strode from the hall.
Keladry had spent four years of her life working hard to convince Wyldon that she could be a Knight. He would not allow all of that effort to go to waste.
A/N: This was heavily inspired by a few comments posted on Mark Reads (specifically, comments posted by mjearhart, romanstatues, and redbeardjim). It was written in less than half an hour and posted completely unedited, so please forgive any mistakes or weird pacing.
Protector of the Small is owned by Tamora Pierce, I make no money from this, don't sue, etc.