When Fate Takes a Hand


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Two: Classes
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nadia didn't know what to think of the older boy who was her sponsor. Why was he, the leader of the group, being so nice to her? Was it part of a plot to keep her from succeeding in her probation? Pushing these thoughts from her head, she ran to catch up with Dyson, telling herself that it was just her imagination.

And that it was. While the older pages served the court, Nadia was stationed in a niche where she could see everything. King Jonathan was dressed almost simply in velvet of his favorite sapphire blue. The Queen, Thayet, was breathtakingly beautiful, with raven curls cascading down her back. Her gown was a ruddy orange with large crimson leaves embroidered down the front.

How can she look so splendid for a simple supper? Nadia wondered. Before she knew it, it was time for her own supper. She followed Dy to the pages' mess, where she just about fell asleep in her soup.

The bell sounding at dawn the next day rang much earlier than Nadia thought was possible.

"Rise and shine, Nadia!" Dy called cheerfully through the door a few minutes later. She was dressed and ready, but she made him wait a few moments longer, just for being too merry.

After a full breakfast, they headed for their first class, Reading and Writing. The classes were taught by stuffy old priests, who were quick to catch any page who thought he might get away with a nap. They tested Nadia and Dennis on their literacy skills, then set them each to copying a page from a large tome of boring poems.

To Nadia, the work was nothing new. She had been doing it since she could read, and finished before some of the older boys finished more difficult assignments, just as the bell rang.

Next was mathematics. Nadia knew her sums and products, and most of the algebra that the priests taught. She silently thanked Ambrosia as she worked on a set of problems, and Dennis was set at the beginning.

Decorum was an easy subject for Nadia as well. Aunti had insisted that she use her manners at all times, whether talking to the highest noble or the lowest peasant.

During their ten minute break, Nadia relaxed, sprawled on her back across a bench in a courtyard, hands behind her head. She felt sleepy and warm in the morning sunlight. Dennis was complaining of his workload, which was to be completed in his 'free time.' He still had to finish his poem, several difficult math problems, not to mention memorizing the proper way to address a noble according to their station.

Nadia smiled to herself, glad that she had started preparing so early. All she had left to complete so far was a couple algebra problems. It would be the work of twenty minutes – thirty tops. Now she felt kind of guilty for complaining to Aunti about all the work.

"That's not fair," Stivyn of Kamilitt complained. Stiv had quite a bit of extra work. "How do you do it?"

Nadia smiled and explained that she had been studying for this for five years.

"Don't worry, things will pick up soon, and I'll fall behind too."

After their break, Dy took Nadia to their next to last class of the morning: History of Tortall and Warfare. It was taught by Sir Myles of Olau. He was a short, plump man, with long graying brown hair and a shaggy beard. His hose bagged funny, but his tunic was neatly pressed. Nadia got the impression that Sir Myles wasn't really the kind of man who would take the time to press his own clothes; he must have a maid or a wonderful wife.

He came in with smiles, and was greeted by the boys, all of whom seemed genuinely happy to see him. His eyes skimmed the class for new faces, introducing himself as he went. When at last he saw Nadiana he looked startled and, for a split second, the smile left his face. Then Sir Myles turned back to the class and began to teach them about the Bazhir Wars.

The boys sat up in their seats. It seemed that this was a class that was actually enjoyed. Even Bertram of Dobrr, the sleepy-eyed forth-year was attentive. Nadiana liked the class, another subject that came easily to her, but she wasn't sure how she felt about the teacher. Throughout the lesson, Nadia could feel Sir Myles' eyes upon her, as if he couldn't believe she was there.

Nadiana made a mental note to ask Dyson about this man. If he was so interested about her, Nadia wanted to learn all she could about him.

After lunch, the only class left was philosophy. The hour seemed much longer than an hour. Nadiana kept catching herself about to nod off. Once, the priest walked past Dennis, rapping a hand on his desk a single time, startling him awake. Nadia truly felt bad for her friend who had swiftly turned red. But he wasn't the only one whom the philosopher awoke. It occurred to Nadiana that it would have been better to schedule Sir Myles' interesting class after lunch, when the pages were full and sleepy, then the boring priest who droned on and on about duty.

Finally, Dy lead Nadiana back to her room so that she could change into practice clothes and then they went outside to the practice courts. The first-years warmed up for nearly an hour before donning heavy padded cloth armor for staff work. Then they learned how to fall, block blows with a shield, and string and unstring a bow.

Lastly, Nadiana was reunited with Toomi for a riding lesson. As she led her young horse into the stables and began to groom him, she felt eyes upon her. Turning around, she saw three pages standing outside of Toomi's stall. She hadn't met these boys, but she thought that Dy had mentioned something about trouble.

"Can I help you?" she asked, looking around for her sponsor. He was no where to be seen. The pages each took a few steps closer to Nadia, blocking her exit. "Excuse me," she said, moving to her side.

"You don't belong here," the tallest boy said. He was lean and wiry, with straight, dirt-brown hair and hazel eyes.

"I've heard that," Nadiana agreed. "The gossips and conservatives aren't at all pleased."

"You are a first-year, and a probationer at that. You will speak to your seniors with respect," the second boy said. He had blond hair and clear blue eyes. The other page was short, with a dusting of freckles and plentiful dark curls.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that he'd know the difference," Nadia said innocently.

"Why you-"

"Isn't there some other place you should be, Mindelan?" The tall boy cringed as Dyson stepped into view.

"Come on. Conal," one of the other boys whispered loudly.

"She's not worth losing ground with the fourth-years," their friend added. Conal shot one more glare at Nadia, then glanced warily at Dyson.

"You'd better watch your step, Girl," he said, retreating.

"My pleasure," Nadia called with a sweet smile.

"Conal's harmless," Dyson said as he helped Nadia finish up her work. He quickly brushed strands of his honey-blond hair fell out of his warm brown eyes. "If you leave him alone, he'll leave you alone."

Nadia was thoughtfully quiet. She finished her task, then went inside to wash up for supper.