A/N: Originally I wasn't going to do any more than the first chapter. Clearly plans change. I own nothing

Nealan of Queenscove sighed to himself as he followed the Stump and the other senior pages. The new batch would be getting their sponsors and he was actually interested to see what one of the new pages looked like. There was actually going to be a girl this year. In his mind's eye he saw a girl of similar height as his younger sister, maybe as chatty – or maybe a girl with a temper to rival the Lioness'.

Needless to say he was surprised to see a girl that was a hand-width taller –at least – than his sister. He expected to see nervousness or excitement on her face; but it was smooth and calm. Lord Wyldon requested sponsors for each new page, until he reach the girl.

Wyldon demanded, "Your name and your fief?"

"Keladry of Mindelan." Neal was amazed, this girl was the only one here who seemed unfazed by the training master's gruff nature.

"Who will sponsor her?" asked Wyldon.

Zahir looked at her and sniffed. "Girls have no business in the affairs of men. This one should go home." He glared at Kel, who met his eyes calmly.

Lord Wyldon shook his head. "We are not among the Bazhir tribes, Zahir ibn Alhaz. Moreover, I requested a sponsor, not an opinion." He looked at the other boys. "Will no one offer?" he asked. "No beginner may go unsponsored."

"Look at her," a boy murmur. "She stands there like – like a lump."

The blond youth at Wyldon's side raised a hand. "May I, my lord?" he asked. Neal was – somehow – completely unsurprised by who volunteered.

Lord Wyldon stared at him. "You, Joren of Stone Mountain?"

The youth bowed. "I would be pleased to teach the girl all she needs to know of life in the pages' wing." Neal narrowed his eyes at Joren, the younger boy likely just wanted a chance to make this girl quite. A few older pages giggled, Neal wondered if this girl realized how close she was to getting the worse possible person as a sponsor; her face was still unreadable and calm.

Instead Lord Wyldon frowned. "I had hoped for another sponsor," he commented stiffly. "You should employ your spare hours in the improvement of your classwork and your riding skills."

"I thought Joren hated –" someone whispered.

"Shut up!" another boy hissed.

"I believe I can perfect my studies and sponsor the girl," Joren said respectfully. "And since I am the only volunteer –"

"I suppose I'm being rash and peculiar, again," Neal cut in, "but if it means helping my friend Joren improve his studies, well, I'll just have to sacrifice myself. There's nothing I won't do to further the cause of book learning among my peers."

Everyone turned toward him. Lord Wyldon absently rubbed the arm he kept tucked in a sling. "You volunteer, Nealan of Queenscove?"

Neal bowed jerkily unable to help the need to taunt the Training Master. "That I do, your worship, sir."

"A sponsor should be a page in his second year at least," Wyldon informed him. "And you will mind your tongue."

"I know I only joined this little band in April, your lordship," Neal remarked cheerily, "but I have lived at court almost all of my fifteen years. I know the palace and its ways. And unlike Joren, I need not worry about my academics."

Wyldon's eyebrows snapped together. "You have been told to mind your manners, Page Nealan. I will have an apology for you insolence."

Nealan bowed deeply. "An apology for general insolence, you lordship, or some particular offense?" He was fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

"One week scrubbing pots," ordered Lord Wyldon. "Be silent."

Neal threw out an arm like a player making a dramatic statement. "How can I be silent and yet apologize?" He was really starting to enjoy himself.

"Two weeks." Keladry was forgotten as Wyldon concentrated on him. "The first duty for anyone in service to the crown is obedience."

"And I am a terrible obeyer," retorted Neal. "All these inconvenient arguments spring to my mind, and I just have to make them."

"Three," Wyldon said tightly.

"Neal, shut it!" someone whispered.

She cleared her throat and repeated, "I can learn it on my own."

The boys turned to stare. Wyldon glance at her. "What did you say?" Neal was amazed. She seemed so shy, almost like she wanted to disappear from everyone's notice.

"I'll find my way on my own," Kel repeated. "Nobody has to show me. I'll probably learn better, poking around." Neal stared at her, winged brows raised. He'd bet money that she was lying.

"When I require your opinion," began Wyldon, his dark eyes snapping.

"It's no trouble," Nealan interrupted. "None at all, Demoiselle Keladry. My lord, I apologize for my wicked tongue and my dreadful manners. I shall do my best not to encourage her to follow my example."

Wyldon, about to speak, seemed to think better of what he meant to say. He waited a moment, then said, "You are her sponsor, then. Now. Enough time has been wasted on foolishness. Supper."

Neal and Keladry remained behind sizing each other up. Maybe, he mused to himself as he studied the girl in front of him. Maybe there's more to her than it seems.