CHAPTER TWO
Introduction and Recognition
They'd been walking around all day; Morrigan following Lianne like a puppy on a leash. It was a sultry day, and the ravenhaired Shang had been introduced to more people than she'd thought was possible to fit in the space of one morning and afternoon.
"There's just one more person," said Lianne, beckoning for Morrigan to follow her down the hall to the palace wing where classes were held for pages and squires.
"Who?" asked Morrigan as they stopped outside a room.
"My older brother," replied the girl, peering through the glass pane in the door to check on the class. She giggled and waved to someone, making a funny face.
Amused by her antics, Morrigan nevertheless thought it necessary to point out that she'd already met Lianne's older brother.
Lianne rolled her eyes. "That was Liam. I'm talking about Jasson. He's in there," she said, gesturing at the door. "He'll be out in a few minutes."
Morrigan nodded from where she leaned against a wall, then slid down to sit tidily on the floor. After a few moments, Lianne plopped down beside the older girl, only to spring to her feet when the classroom door opened. Morrigan stayed where she was, watching squires flow from the room. The corridor, so quiet just a minute before, was now filled with the din of laughing, yelling students and the rustle of bags, books, and quills.
Lianne's legs came into view, followed by a second set of legs. These were covered in dark breeches and boots. Morrigan blinked, looking up.
The princess grinned and pointed at the tall, broad-shouldered young man beside her. "This is Jasson. He's helping Myles teach the squires this year."
"I was going to say," said Morrigan, rising to her feet, "that you look rather old to be a squire. I understand now."
Prince Jasson gave her a small smile. His thick black locks fell into his Conte sapphire eyes, which were framed by sooty dark lashes. He had a thin, sensitive face and square jaw. He extended his hand to Morrigan.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, shaking her hand.
Morrigan nodded. His grip was firm and warm, and a bit unsettling. She drew her hand back after a moment, flexing her fingers. "An honor, Your Highness."
"Call me Jasson," he said at the same time Lianne interrupted, "Call him Jasson."
Morrigan grinned. "I'm outnumbered, I see. Very well then …Jasson. So if you're a teacher's aid, how old are you?"
Too late she realized the query might be perceived as rude, and color crept into her cheeks.
"I'm twenty," said Jasson, seemingly oblivious to her distress.
"Morri is nineteen," said Lianne brightly.
The prince's dark brows knitted. "Morri?"
The girl in question cut in. "Morrigan," she said hastily. "But people sometimes call me Morri."
"Ah. I see." Jasson looked from her to Lianne.
"Morri is the Shang Unicorn," continued the younger princess. "She's one of the youngest to get her title."
Jasson looked at Morrigan with renewed interest. "That's an incredible accomplishment."
"Thank you," she replied. "It was difficult."
"I'm sure." Jasson held her gray eyes with his own brilliant blues, and smiled crookedly when she blushed and averted her eyes. Lianne watched this exchange with great interest, and perhaps a bit of smugness.
The princess's expression was not lost on Morrigan, who turned on her young friend. "Lianne," she began suspiciously.
Lianne batted her eyelashes innocently. "Yes, Morri?"
Her eyes grew darker. "I would hate to think you have an ulterior motive here."
Jasson coughed softly.
"Do you not like my brother?" asked Lianne sweetly.
Morrigan's stare was murderous, and her cheeks were red, from anger, embarrassment, or a bit of both, no one would ever know. "He's right here," she said stiffly.
"You say 'ulterior motive' like it's a bad thing," Lianne said.
"I didn't say that," said Morrigan quickly, shooting a glance at Jasson. His cheeks were as flushed as hers.
"Lianne, I think it's time for your riding lesson," he said quietly.
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Lianne blew them a kiss. "Of course it is. See you later!" With that, she left Morrigan to fend for herself with Prince Jasson.
Morrigan stared after the girl's retreating figure incredulously. Jasson's voice shook her out of it, and she turned to face him.
"I'm sorry, but what was that?"
Jasson cleared his throat. "I apologize for my sister," he repeated. "She's young, and has a romantic streak."
"Oh, that's alright," said Morrigan in a strangled voice, which she quickly concealed.
He sighed. "She has been betrothed to a foreign prince since birth. She tends to take out her frustrations by trying to match people up. I'm sorry you're her latest …project."
Morrigan laughed. "You're sorry? I feel sorry for you, having been her brother all these years. I'm sure you've taken the brunt of her matchmaking attempts."
Running a hand through his hair, Jasson sighed. "Yes, well. I'm rather used to it by now."
Sensing the conversation was heading south, Morrigan swept him a little curtsy, bowing her head. "I'd better return to my room. I have things to organize." Only her acquired grace, courtesy of years of Shang training, saved her awkward curtsy from becoming an utter humiliation. She hoped Jasson wouldn't notice.
He noticed. Hiding a smile, he bowed to her. "I hope to see you again soon," he said. "It was a pleasure to meet you."
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A week later, Morrigan found herself browsing a marketplace in the city with a friendly knight called Sir Merric. Lianne and Thayet had repeatedly praised the marketplace as a goldmine for the discovery of little trinkets and other odds and ends. Despite her disinterest in jewelry, Morrigan ended up going anyway, if only to quell the tidal wave of urgings by the Contes. Sir Merric had offered to escort her, since they'd run into each other several times around the palace and exchanged friendly words.
Morrigan had not forgotten her new loyalty to the royal family of Tortall, and her duty to use her fighting skills if necessary. She saw the visit to the marketplace as an opportunity to listen in on street conversation and learn about the doings of Tortallan residents.
She was idly fingering a thin necklace adorned with gemstones when she heard a shopkeeper gush, "Oh, Your Highness!" A familiar voice responded in greeting.
Dropping the necklace, Morrigan turned to see none other than Jasson, strolling the streets. A cluster of girls followed behind him, heads lowered as their lips moved, freeing the gossip from their throats.
Morrigan did the first thing that came to mind. She fled the scene, grabbing Merric's arm and spewing out a hasty apology and promise of a later explanation.
A few streets later, she released her grip on the knight's arm. He stared at her quizzically.
"What was that?" he asked, catching his breath.
She bit her lip. "I saw someone I know."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Ah, well, yes. I mean, no. I mean, I'm not sure. I don't know! Running was the first thing that popped into my head, so …"
Merric chuckled. "I understand, Morrigan."
She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry for bringing you into it," she murmured guiltily.
He clapped her on the shoulder. "Think nothing of it. Now, what do you say we head back towards the palace? You haven't seen anything you want to buy, have you?"
Nodding agreeably, Morrigan followed Merric out of the sidestreet they'd fallen upon and back onto the main road. The palace loomed a half mile ahead.
Suddenly, Merric stopped. Touching her arm, he said, "Hang on for a minute; I see someone I know."
Her eyes followed the man as he met up with another man off to the side. Merric tapped the man on the shoulder, and Morrigan felt slightly nauseous as the "someone Merric knew" turned out to be Prince Jasson. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the street until Merric gestured for her to come over, and she slunk over to join the men.
"This is my friend, Jasson," said Merric of the younger knight.
Before she could say anything, Jasson said, "Morrigan and I have met. I saw her earlier, but didn't know she was with you. I was about to come over and say hello, but then she disappeared."
Merric shot her a strange look, trying to conceal a grin. She glared daggers at him, causing the knight to hastily turn a strangled laugh into a hacking cough.
Jasson looked bewildered – Morrigan couldn't blame him. "Morrigan?" he asked questioningly.
"Merric is feeling ill," she said. "I should take him back to the castle."
Something that looked like disappointment briefly flashed across Jasson's face. He nodded. "Yes, of course. I hope you feel better soon, Merric."
Morrigan clutched Merric's arm and steered him away from Jasson, back towards the castle. The prince watched them go. Merric seemed to be arguing about something with the girl. Her cheeks and ears were touched with pink instead of their usually icy white.
Against her better judgment, Morrigan turned around to look at Jasson. In that moment, a man darted forward, and Morrigan briefly saw his dark eyes and dirty blond mess of hair before she fell to her knees, a dagger buried to the hilt in her back.
With a primal roar, she lunged for the man, who was running in the opposite direction. She felt strong hands grabbing her and she whirled around only to find herself staring at Sir Merric's chest.
"Let go of me!" she hissed.
"Not with a knife in your back," he said calmly, though his eyes betrayed him. "I need to get you back to the castle."
She battered her fists against his solid frame. "But I saw him!" She was prevented from further speech when Merric deftly pulled the blade from her slender frame, and she fainted in his arms.
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Oh, was there anything so undignified as fainting?
When she came to, Morrigan found herself blinking up at a horribly bright sky. Turning her head, she saw an unfamiliar chest. Realizing she was in someone's arms, she yelped. The person carrying her yelped as well.
"She's come to!" the carrier exclaimed to his companion.
"Already?" It was Merric. So whose arms was she in?
Blue eyes found hers. "Are you all right?"
Willing herself to be calm, she closed, then reopened her eyes. "Why are you carrying me?" she asked, speech slurred.
Jasson's face was unnervingly close to hers. When he spoke, she could feel his breath on her face. "Because you fainted, and cannot walk on your own."
"I didn't faint," she protested, ignoring the pain in her back which screamed with every jarring step. She raised her head, looking around. "Wherem I?" she asked, speech getting worse. "I'm supposed to go see Liah-ah-ahh …" She went limp in Jasson's arms, and he tightened his grip on her.
"She's passed out," he told Merric. "Again."
