"Did you see the distance between the King and Queen? They practically looked like strangers."

I shot Tantomile a sharp look as I dismissed the servants. Servants that worked for the King and Queen, and would surely whisper castle gossip into their ears. Was she a fool?

"I'm not surprised. I can't imagine there is much love in that marriage," Cassandra said, once the door was closed and we were alone. I unpacked my jewels methodically, only half-listening now. Bombalurina stood nearby, her eyes on the door. She seemed to share my worries. I recalled the stories she'd told me of her time in court, years ago. How quickly word could travel through such a large castle, and how little privacy the occupants were given.

"How could there be?" Tantomile almost laughed. "His bastard being raised alongside their sons, practically treated as a true born prince? That's not a slight any dame could suffer happily, much less a queen."

My ears pricked at the mention of Macavity. It was not unheard of for kings to recognize their bastards – most kings had quite a few, after all – but raising them at court was unusual. How had I never heard of him before? That was the sort of gossip that the whole kingdom would know. I looked toward Bomba, who was busying herself pouring a glass of wine. Surely she had known of him, and yet she'd said nothing to me.

"Well, it's not as if he could ever be a risk to Munkustrap's claim, could he?" A rush of gratitude washed over me at Cassandra's question, but I kept my attention trained on the jewels. The thought had been plaguing me during the walk to our rooms, but I hadn't wanted to give voice to my worries. They were usually baseless anyway.

"Not unless the King legitimizes him as a trueborn son and his heir, I think," Tantomile replied absently. "And I doubt he would. The kingdom would be in an uproar. Being ruled by a bastard, could you imagine?"

The two sleek queens laughed as the poured themselves wine, but my fur prickled.

"This is risky talk." I turned and gave them the strictest look I could muster, though they did not seem very intimidated. Bomba chuckled under her breath beside me. My ears burned, but I continued. "I mean it. This isn't Highreach, where we can talk freely in the privacy of our own rooms. We don't know who may have their ear pressed against the door."

"She's right. Dramatic, but right." Bomba sank into a chair next to Cassandra and Tantomile. "Keep your wits about you, girls. No reason to risk your neck over gossip, eh?"

A knock at the door stopped any replies.

"My lady? Your uncle wishes to speak with you."

"And aunt, you fool! You should have prefaced with that, she far prefers my company." Jennyanydots came bustling into the room first and hurried straight toward me with open arms. "Oh, my dear, so good to see you, and how was your journey? It's a long one, I know, but, oh, you look well."

I allowed myself to melt into her embrace. The familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla was an instant comfort, and one that I hadn't smelled in far too long. "I'm glad to see you as well, Aunt Jenny."

"And me, I should hope." Skimbleshank's entrance was slower, delayed as he was by the old wound in his knee.

"Uncle," I sighed happily, stepping forward to hug him as well.

"Already met your betrothed, have you? I am sorry we weren't there with you, Lady Dem, we had... something to attend to."

Jenny huffed, her expression laced with poorly-hidden irritation. The guilt on Skimble's face was just as apparent.

"Our little Deme was too distracted by her shining prince to notice your absences," Bomba called from her seat, sipping at her glass of wine. "Not that you aren't just as dreamy, Uncle."

"Bombalurina, you are too bad," Jenny tittered. She seemed grateful for the distraction. "Shouldn't you know your courtesies better by now?"

"And deprive you of this precious entertainment? Wouldn't dream of it."

Another knock interrupted the conversation.

"Lord Skimbleshanks, she is on her way."

"Send her on in when she arrives, thank you." Skimble cleared his throat tensely. "Dem, I have an... addition to your retinue, if you'll allow it. She has lived here at court since she became of age. I thought she might give you a useful perspective."

"O-oh." My face reddened. Bombalurina was my sister, and Cassandra and Tantomile were born the same year as me. All three of them had grown up in my father's castle with me, and there were no others I trusted as explicitly as them. That is what was expected of ladies-in-waiting, after all. A new dame... How could I say no to my uncle, though, who had been so instrumental in the set-up of my betrothal? "Of course, Uncle. Thank you, I-I'm very excited to meet her."

There was a pause, then Jenny spoke. "Well, are you going to tell her, Skimble, or shall I?"

"Right." Skimble cleared his throat. "Well, my little lady, uh... her name is Rumpleteazer. She is only a few years younger than you. And she is my daughter. Er..." He glanced guiltily toward Jenny and cleared his throat again. "My baseborn daughter."

A bastard. There had always been whispers in Highreach, but I'd never given them a second though. Bombalurina, Cassandra, and Tantomile seemed to share my surprise.

"And?" Jenny said.

"And..." Skimble's guilty tone was flecked with rehearsed patience. "Her brother will be joining her here at court soon. Her twin brother, Mungojerrie."

My ladies' whispers were impossible to miss, and I turned awkwardly to Bombalurina, silently begging her to break the silence. Thankfully, she heard my prayers.

"We'll make sure she feels at home, Uncle. Won't we?" Cassandra and Tantomile murmured their agreements, devoid of the usual snark. I often forgot their lower births when we were alone, but it showed quite clearly when members of my father's family were around.

"Fathuh?"

An orange head poked around the open door, mahogany eyes scanning the room before setting on Skimbleshanks.

"Yes, Rumpleteazer, please come in." Skimble stepped forward to usher her in. Jenny shifted uncomfortably, and I noticed that the new dame was steadfastly avoiding looking in her direction.

"It's a pleasure ter meet ya, me lady." Rumpleteazer sunk into a haphazard curtsy.

I smiled and curtsied in return. "Demeter, please. Formalities are a bit... awkward, especially if we are to be friends."

"What an interesting accent," Tantomile remarked smoothly. Cassandra hid a smirk in her cup. "Are you not from here?"

Rumpleteazer glanced nervously at Skimble, who was watching her out of the corner of his eye with a tense jaw. "Oi was born 'ere, me lady, but fostered in the norf throughout me child'ood. A bit 'ard ter understand, Oi kna, but at least ya can always pick me out in a crowd."

An amused chuckle escaped my lips, and Rumpleteazer beamed.

"We'll leave you ladies to settle in," Skimble said, seemingly pleased with the proceedings. "And Deme, the King would like to speak with you as soon as you are ready. He requests that you, er, speak with him in private. Alone."

My mouth dried. I knew I would formally meet the King eventually, but I did not think it would be so soon, and I did not think I would have to be alone. Jenny stepped toward me before I could think to reply.

"Oh, you have no reason to worry, little Deme." She smoothed my headfur. "I'm sure he only wants to welcome you without a prying crowd of nobles and all that."

"O-of course. Thank you, both of you, I'll go to him when I can."

Skimble and Jenny said their goodbyes and left. Rumpleteazer stood near the door still, an awkward smile on her face. Bombalurina moved back toward the luggage to continue unpacking.

"So, Teazer." Tantomile stood and strode toward the tabby, a languid smile on her face. "The north, you say? I had no idea they had such strange accents."

"Strange," Cassandra echoed, standing as well. The two prowled around Rumpleteazer with something close to hunger in their eyes. "That is one word for it, I suppose."

Tantomile smirked. "Undecipherable, really. I do hope you'll learn to speak properly, I can hardly understand a word of what you say."

Rumpleteazer stood straighter. With her chest puffed and her jaw set, she almost resembled her father, and Cassandra and Tantomile balked. "Oi guess Oi'll 'ave ter use smaller words 'round ya ladies, then, huh?"

The two sleek dames huffed and reddened, and Bombalurina's sharp laugh echoed behind me.

"Cassandra," I said, before another word could be spoken. "Tantomile. Would you two mind fetching a servant from the kitchens to bring up some food? We're all famished after the journey, I'm sure, and wine on such an empty stomach might be a bad idea."

The two curtsied, if a bit begrudgingly, and left. I could hear their giggles trailing down the hall. Rumpleteazer surely did as well, but it didn't show in her excited eyes as she turned to me.

"They're always a bit mischievous when they meet new dames. I'm sorry."

"Oi'm used ter it, Lady Dem. Don't worry about me. A bastard at court develops thick skin." Her shrug and smile were strangely apologetic, and instantly I felt the need to wrap my arms around her shoulders and banish Cassandra and Tantomile from my service. Instead, I turned away and poured myself a glass of wine. I needed courage if I was to speak with the king, the kind of courage that a few sips of alcohol could give.

"Would you like any wine, Rumpleteazer?"

"Just 'Teazuh' is foine. And, er, nah, thank ya. Oi don't loike the taste."

"Oh, you'll have trouble fitting in with us, then." Bombalurina's words seemed cruel, but her tone was playful and her smile was kind. "You need a good, strong drink to tolerate those two for very long."

I rubbed my neck and smiled awkwardly. As much as I may have agreed with her, it was not proper to complain so openly. Especially not in front of unfamiliar company. Teazer only laughed, though, and her posture relaxed significantly. I sat down on Bombalurina's vacated seat and eyed her over the lip of my glass. If she'd lived at court for so many years, she must know plenty about Munkustrap, and about Macavity. If she were truly the friend and sister that ladies-in-waiting were meant to be, I would have asked her without hesitation. But I hardly knew the dame, and I did not want to risk embarrassing myself. I took a long swig and looked away.

"Er, Oi'm not sure what yer expectin' of me, Lady Dem," Teazer said after a pause. "Oi've never been a lady-in-waitin' before, seein' as Oi'm no real lady. Fathuh explained a li'l. He said it's loike... sisters, Oi guess." She glanced guiltily toward Bomba.

"Sisters, yes, sometimes. If... if we are lucky to be close enough. But 'friends' is good enough for now."

"Alroight. Friends." I thought I saw a softer smile flit across Teazer's face, but whatever it was, it was quickly replaced by something much more impish. "Oi know Oi'm 'ere tuh teach you about court, though. Oi know you got questions. Oi can answer 'em."

I blushed, my ears drooping toward my head, but Bomba just chuckled.

"Is Munkustrap still the stick-in-the-mud he was years ago?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "He doesn't seem to have changed much."

"I think he's changed," I said quietly. Though I hadn't seen him since he was barely older than a kit, all gangly limbs and a smile too wide for his face. Bomba had lived at court when he was a teen, though, and I had heard all about the solemn-faced silver tabby that stood next to his father day in and day out.

"Oh, 'e's still as borin' as ever. Oi guess Oi can't blame 'im, though, roight? Bein' Deut's heir is a tough job, an' bein' Tuggah's bruvva is a tougher one."

Bomba huffed and turned away. "Still nosy as always, I must assume."

"The Rum Tum Tuggah's a curious cat, Oi don't fink anyone would disagree with that." Teazer finally sat, perched on the edge of the chair across from me, her mahogany eyes not completely meeting either of our gazes.

"And the king's b- er, the king's oldest son?" I tried to keep my tone as casual as possible, but the blush was spreading across my face again, and I forced myself to keep my eyes on my lap. "The red one."

"Met 'im, 'ave you?" Teazer sounded almost annoyed, and I looked up to see her staring out the window with a strongly set jaw. "'E keeps ter 'imself most o' the time. Oi don't fink 'e's evuh said two words ter me."

I looked to Bomba again, silently asking a question I didn't think I could voice, but she avoided my gaze.

"My bruvva knows 'im bettuh. 'E's lived at court longuh than me, Oi guess they're kinda loike friends."

"I didn't think Macavity was the type to have friends," Bomba remarked. There was bitterness in her words, bitterness that I was sure Rumpleteazer wouldn't be able to notice. I set my cup down and stood to walk to the window, touching Bomba's hand lightly on my way. A silent comfort for whatever she wasn't saying.

"Well, that's why Oi said 'kinda', innit?" Teazer laughed. "Mungo finks the world of 'im, Oi tell you." Her voice lowered. "Bastards loike ta stick togevvuh."

I stared out the window, my back to the room and my companions. There were some cats milling about in the gardens below. Enjoying the crisp spring breeze and warm sun. Jealousy gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, but I pushed it away.

"Do others truly care that you are baseborn?" I asked quietly.

Teazer only shrugged noncommittally. "Ya kna these court nobles. They always 'ave a stick up their bum over summit. One minute it's me an' my bruvvah, the bloody next it's Lydy Sybelle's uneven 'emline."

A rush of warmth flooded my heart once more, tinged with something that might have been envy. I could not imagine having such a flippant attitude about others' opinions. I turned back to face Teazer and Bomba.

"What is the King like?"

Teazer shrugged again and looked toward Bomba, scratching her nose idly.

"Kingly, I suppose." Bomba chuckled at the disparaging look I gave her. "I'm sorry, Deme, I was never granted an audience with him. I only ever saw him when he was holding court."

"An' Oi wouldn't know, bastards would nevuh get to speak wiv the King."

Except Macavity, I wanted to say. Discomfort held my tongue. "Of course." I picked up my tiara and settled it primly between my ears. Bomba stood to fasten a necklace around my neck, and Teazer followed uncertainly.

"Oi'd be careful, though. You're supposed ter marry 'is firstborn, and 'eir ter the bloomin' throne. 'E'll be lookin' for any weakness, Oi'm sure."

Bomba nodded in agreement. "Not that you have anything to worry about. You're golden, Dem."

A soft smile flitted across my face. "Will the Queen be there, do you think?"

"The Queen is probably busy planning the wedding. I'm sure she'll send for you herself when she has time."

"But the wedding isn't for another year. How long could it take to plan?"

"Ya ain't met the Queen, so just trust me. It's gonna take 'er a year ter plan it, an' she's gonna make sure it's so big that the singers will sin' of it for 'undreds of years."

My face flushed at the thought, though I couldn't tell if it was anxiety or pleasure that made it so. I wondered if the Queen would let me help with anything – but the thought of spending time alone with the imposing dame turned me off of the idea well enough.

"Well," I said, my voice tight with apprehension. "I shouldn't keep him waiting, should I?"