Author Note: At the current moment, this is by far my favorite chapter, of well, probably everything that's written so far in both stories. It's not very exciting, but well, after it's over, you'll understand why I've been wanting to write this 18 page chapter for the longest time. So, happy reading.
Review Replies:
Candace – I'm actually thrilled to hear you found this by accident and stuck with it. I do hope you read Gift first though. Anyway, I'm very glad you're enjoying. And thanks for the compliment and the review. It means a lot.
Me – No, no spin the bottle. Too modern. And nope, they're all very prim and proper. Remember, they are nobles. Glad you liked it though. Thanks for the review.
-4-
Pleasant Changes
"We start swords today," Lord Padraig addressed the pages, the week before the Midwinter services were to take place. He scanned the line of pages in front of him. Some of the first years shivered slightly as they stood in the practice court, snow falling gently around them. The older pages knew better than to show such weakness. Instead, many of them imagined being somewhere warmer. Corin confessed to biting the inside of his cheek so he'd be too pre-occupied with pain to even care that he was cold. The palace servants had done a good job clearing the practice courts of snow, but around them, the ground was covered with nearly a foot.
Rather than having to send the older pages back to get their weapons, he'd sent them all letters the week before ordering them to wear it wherever they went. Now they all stood with the weapons on their belts.
"Older boys, pair off. First years, Sir Zahir will help you choose a weapon," the training master called. "Hollyrose, I want you working with Queenscove today. Tameran and Tirragen," he added, and then looked over the other pages. He moved around a few more pairs, but mainly left them as they'd chosen.
"Warm ups today; High, middle, low," he commanded. "Begin." The pages obeyed, having to fight the urge to cast looks at the first years that were all facing Sir Zahir's wrath. It didn't look sound like any of them were safe, especially not Aislinn. Inara was just glad she didn't hear the girl speak back. She'd made a few mistakes in the past few months, but over time, she'd gotten better about not speaking her mind to the instructors. "I want to hear swords striking as one," Lord Padraig's voice brought Inara back from her own private thoughts.
"You heard him," Asten laughed, blocking Inara's attack. She smiled in return and took her turn to block.
The pages continued the pace for nearly half the class. It took that long for the first years to each find a weapon that would suit them until they could forge their own metal ones. The training master called for the older, now wet pages to halt. Even in the cold, he'd set them at such a quick pace that they'd broken a sweat. "Hollyrose, and Queenscove. I want you to demonstrate," Lord Padraig informed them. Inara heard a few murmurs from the first years about the training master's choice, but ignored them. She'd heard it the year before when he'd had her partner with Gilyith.
Inara and Asten stepped forward and showed the high, middle, and low combinations at their training master's orders. He had them move through each one slowly and multiple times until he felt the first years had seen enough to understand what he wanted from them. Both older pages began to move back into line with the others, but Lord Padraig shook his head, signaling them to remain where they were. Inara gave Asten a questioning look. He shrugged.
"Some of you may have already learned that three times a week, several of your peers receive extra sword lessons. These lessons are for those of you deemed more advanced, and while I usually would start you in your second year, it is possible for you to join this year if you show promise. If you were to join us, you may get the chance to learn this," he paused and looked over Inara and Asten. "Squire's Dance, Page Inara will begin, on my count. One, two, three."
As the last word left his mouth, Inara and Asten assumed the guard position. They bowed to one another properly, and then returned their blades to the guard position once more. By mental count, both pages swung their swords down and sprang apart. Inara stepped two steps closer to Asten, bringing her blade up above her head and slashing down in a vertical cut. Asten brought his sword up to meet hers above his head, the blade parallel to the ground. The blades met with a clang and both pages separated again. Inara continued the routine by swinging her sword downward toward Asten's legs. Asten returned by swinging his own blade down to meet hers once again. This time when they separated, Asten spun and immediately returned with a chopping action towards Inara's right shoulder. She held the blade across her chest and parried his attack. The older boy spun the other way and attacked her other shoulder. Inara blocked again and jumped back as Asten switched to a thrust. As he moved in for a vertical cut, she rolled under it, turning on her heel as she stood and swung her blade at his legs. Asten blocked the cut behind his back and turned to face her. Inara once again brought her blade up in the third vertical strike of the pattern, which Asten met squarely. Both pages held the position for a moment before lowering their weapons, and bowing to one another, panting. The entire sequence had taken less than half a minute to perform, and left all but Sam and Martin staring at them. No one else had ever seen what they learned in their private lessons.
"Excellent. You're excused from the rest of the lesson. However, do not be late for archery," Lord Padraig told them. Both pages bowed low to him, and straightened, tucking their swords away and walking off as he began to address the remainder of the pages.
"That was good," Inara told Asten when they reached a bench near a fountain. The boy plunged his hands into the frigid water and brought it to his lips, drinking. Inara copied him before sitting on the bench.
"It was," the boy confessed. "I thought you'd land one a few times."
"Never," she laughed. "You're too good."
"I suppose," he told her, sitting down beside her. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he suddenly said as they watched a few off duty knights sparring with staffs.
"Hmm?" Inara said, not looking up at him.
"Well, you haven't worn a single dress this year, and Corin hasn't said anything, but did something happen?"
"I'd rather not say," Inara told him. Asten slung his arm over her shoulder.
"You know you can tell us anything, pup," he told her. Inara nodded. "No one hurt you? Tried to take advantage of you?"
"What? Where would you get an idea like that?" she asked, looking up at his face, their eyes meeting for a few moments.
"I was just worried. You always wore dresses before, and I can't think of anything else."
"Nothing like that, Asten," Inara assured him. "I just, well, I'd rather not wear one right now," she told him.
"If you're sure," he told her, unwrapping his arm and squeezing her on the shoulder. "You may need to get over it soon though," he added. "Rumor has it; King Jonathan is going to hold another ball for Jasson's birthday during Midwinter. He's ordered Jasson to be there."
"Wonderful," Inara sighed, turning her eyes back to the knights. Her attention however, remained on the suggestion of a ball.
The pages didn't have to wait long for the announcement that the ball rumors were true. That very evening Lord Padraig informed them that invitations had gone out weeks before to all of the young nobles in the kingdom. At his own discretion, Lord Padraig had waited until much closer to the date of the party to let the pages and squires present know. He confessed he wanted them to focus on their schoolwork as long as possible, as he'd been ashamed to see several people's work slipping during the last ball held in the early spring. Just like the last time, he informed the pages that they would be spending an extra hour a day with Upton Oakbridge, the palace master of ceremonies and their etiquette teacher, and that they would be required to perform all the duties of a page at the ball, regardless of the fact that they were allowed to enjoy themselves. If they received punishment work, they would be unable to attend. Lord Padraig finished his speech with "Queenscove, Mindelan, see me on your way out."
Both girls reported to their training master as instructed, once they'd put up their trays. Inara bowed, Aislinn just a step behind her. "No doubt you know why I called you," Lord Padraig addressed Inara. She nodded and then remembered her manners, despite being preoccupied.
"Yes, my lord," she responded. The training master inclined his head every so slightly. "You're giving us permission to wear gowns to the ball instead of our uniforms like the boys," Inara added, as politely as she could. Aislinn blinked.
Lord Padraig nodded. "If you are known as a page and asked to assist someone, you must not hesitate. Just because you will not be in uniform, you are not excused from your duties to the palace and to me. You will remain on your best behaviors and you will not shame your titles, understood?"
"Yes, my lord," both girls replied, and bowed.
"You're dismissed," he told them. They bowed again, and turned to go. Suddenly Inara turned back.
"My lord?"
"Queenscove?"
"If we wished to go in uniform, might we?"
Now it was the training master's turn to blink. He stared at her for a few moments, eyes clearly showing that he was deep in thought. He seemed to sigh slightly to himself.
"You may wear what you wish, but I will advise you to dress appropriately," he told her and once again gave her a nod of dismissal.
"Understood, my lord," Inara replied, bowing once more and turning to catch up with Aislinn who stood near the doorway waiting for her.
"Why would you want to wear the uniform?" the younger girl asked her sponsor as soon as Lord Padraig was no longer in earshot. Inara shook her head slightly. Lord Padraig had given her the most diplomatic answer he could. She could dress as she wished, but he thought she ought to go in a gown, as a young lady; perhaps because there would be so many other young nobles who didn't understand the life of a page. Young ladies of their station could be rude and mean, and Lord Padraig seemed well aware of what might have been said of a young lady who showed up to a social event dressed as a boy. Her mother had once told her that it was not looked down upon in the Yamani Islands for a person to be interested in a member of their same gender. However, the same could not be said for customs in Tortall.
"I'm just considering it, is all," Inara told Aislinn. The first year rolled her eyes, but left it at that.
"We're studying in Asten's rooms tonight, right? I've got to go get my books."
"Yeah," Inara responded, her mind elsewhere. She needed to pay someone a visit. "I've got something to do. Tell the others I'll be a little late?"
"Sure," Aislinn muttered in response as Inara wandered off down an opposite hallway.
The dark haired girl climbed several flights of stairs until she arrived at the wing of the palace that housed some of the more important resident knights. She knew this hall like the back of her hand, only because for the past two and a half years she'd been taking her class on the history and laws of the realm in a study on that hall.
Inara stopped in front of the study door and knocked lightly, hoping the old man was still awake. He'd once sent her maid to check on her after a fight she'd had with her sponsor her first year. Throughout the years she'd been a page, he'd always been kind to her. Hopefully he'd be willing to help her now.
She heard the sound of chairs moving and footsteps. The door opened, revealing a middle aged man servant that Inara had never noticed before. He stared at her, making her almost regret her decision to come.
"Um… I'd like to see Sir Myles. He's um… my teacher," she told the silent man. The servant stepped aside to admit her into the study that served as their classroom. She waited until he closed the door behind her and then followed him into one of the adjoining rooms. Here was a more casual sitting room. Sir Myles of Olau rested on the couch beside his wife Eleni Cooper. They had company; Sir Myles' adopted daughter Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, better known as the Lioness and the first Lady Knight in over a century, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, and his squire Prince Jasson. Inara blinked in surprise. Well, she certainly couldn't speak to the old knight now.
"Inara," the man said cheerfully as the crowd looked up to see her. She let a shy smile grace her lips as she bowed to him. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Begging your pardon, sir; I had wanted to ask a question, but you've company. I'll come back at a more appropriate time," she told him. Sir Myles nodded understanding that whatever she'd needed it was only for private ears. He wouldn't press her. However, he didn't let her leave.
"Will you stay then? Join us for a while, or do you have work to do?"
"I'm caught up, sir," Inara told him. It wasn't a complete lie. She was mostly caught up. Or as caught up as any page could be before the Midwinter services when the masters assigned almost twice the work as if to make up for knowing the pages would have the week off of classes to serve soon. Besides, it would have been rude to reject his invitation.
"Good then, take a seat please," he motioned to a chair beside Prince Jasson. Her friend gave her a smile as she slid into the seat beside him.
"You're swamped aren't you?" he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. She smiled at him politely.
"I'm drowning in it," Inara confessed, her voice low enough that only he heard her response. He laughed a bit, shaking his head, before bringing her into the conversation regarding the changes Lord Raoul was still making in the owe. Currently he was working on the rule that allowed only the Knight Commander to marry and remain part. Inara had the feeling, it had something to do with her uncle Domitan of Masbolle.
Inara hadn't realized the time until Lady Alanna excused herself from the group, claiming she needed to get some rest. She would be riding out the next day to do a bit of work for the king. Lord Raoul volunteered to walk her out, telling Jasson he would see him bright and early the next morning for tilting lessons. Jasson just bowed in response.
"I look forward to the flight, my lord," he added with a laugh. The knights and Lady Eleni all chuckled in response. Jasson stood to leave in wake of his master and the lady knight.
"Well now, Inara, do you still wish to talk?" Sir Myles offered before Inara could follow as well. Jasson stopped just before the door as Inara nodded. Sir Myles gave him a look, and the Prince hung his head and stepped out the door. "What can I do for you then?"
"It's about the ball for Prince Jasson that's coming up. I – I didn't know who else to go to." The knight nodded for her to continue. "I wore a gown this summer, face paint and everything. Mama did it. But my friends showed up and they barely recognized me. I haven't worn a dress since. My Lord Padraig haMinch has granted permission for Aislinn of Mindelan and I to wear gowns to the ball, but I don't think I should. I'd be embarrassed if my friends didn't know me. But if I don't, the other ladies will say things. I don't think I could bare it," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She hadn't meant for all the words to come pouring out like that, but once she started, it was impossible to stop.
"This sounds like something Alanna told me about," Sir Myles laughed. Inara stared at him in disbelief. The Lioness faced some of these things? "Not exactly, mind you," Sir Myles told her. "I believe you were present, my dear?" he asked his wife.
Lady Eleni laughed and nodded. "I don't think I shall ever forget that day. You see, Inara, Alanna never had the option of dressing like a girl in the palace. When she was a squire, she began to want to wear girls clothing and do girl things. She came to me, as only myself, my son, and King – then only Prince – Jonathan knew she was a girl. We spent weeks practicing. One day, George, my son, Alanna's husband, brought a friend of his to meet me. Alanna was there, in a gown, dressed like as much of a lady as anyone could. George's friend happened to be Jonathan, who you know was her knight master. He didn't recognize her at first.
"She set him straight and carried on, but anyone could see it hurt and embarrassed her slightly that he hadn't known who she was a first. But it didn't stop her from wearing dresses, if that's what she wanted."
"You see, Inara," Sir Myles took over. "You are the only one that can decide what is best for you. If you want to wear a dress, it shouldn't matter what you friends think; if you wish to wear your uniform, it shouldn't matter what any of those young court ladies think, do you understand?"
"I think so, sir," Inara replied, looking down at her hands in her lap.
"Good then. Run along. I know you've got some work to be done, and the lights out bell is only an hour or so away," he dismissed her. Inara smiled politely and bowed to both adults, before leaving the room. They'd given her a great deal to think about.
Inara spent most of the next two days preoccupied about what to do. She needed to decide quickly, if she was going to have enough time to get one of her gowns fitted for the ball. One part of her remained really against wearing a dress. She could vividly see the shocked look in Corin and Evan's faces, and the confused one that Jasson had given her. Granted, she knew she wasn't going to wear face paint, and that she had worn gowns and simple dresses constantly around her friends in the past. Her mind continuously waged war against itself as she fitted an arrow into her bow string in archery.
Sir Zahir ignored her now that she hit the center of her target every time. Moving targets were still difficult for her, but she knew with practice, she'd get it. Beside her, Aislinn was having difficulty setting the arrow correctly in her bow string. Inara knew she'd have to help the Mindelan girl later, as she'd tried to once in class and gotten two bells of work in the laundry.
The pages' practice was interrupted by a loud series of horn calls erupting from the Royal Forest, followed by the sounds of yelling and the return messages from the palace. Even Sir Zahir looked up to see what was going on. All activity on the practice courts had halted as pages, squires, knights, soldiers, and Riders froze.
Lord Padraig was running toward the pages from their stable, his sword in one hand, a bow in his other, and a quiver on his back. He barely looked at Sir Zahir as he reached them, his eyes locked on the forest where battle sounds emanated.
"Hurroks," the training master spoke hurriedly. "They're pursuing a Rider hunting party. Reports say there are maybe a hundred of them."
Sir Zahir let out a sting of curses, many of which Inara had never heard before. He looked over the pages as if deciding something and then shook his head.
"I want two ranks!" he suddenly barked to his archers. "More than likely the hurroks will be in the air. As archers you will be needed," he informed them as Lord Padraig moved on, confident that Sir Zahir would organize the pages. The Bazhir paused for only a moment as his eyes fell on Inara. For a moment, she wondered if he would send her and Aislinn away. Instead he turned away from her. "Third and fourth years will form the first rank. Second and first years form the second rank. I want one line! Now. Alternate first rank, second rank."
The pages hurried to do as he commanded. They could hear the sounds of the riders and the hurroks coming closer. The horn calls were louder and more frequent. Inara cast a look around and saw that the palace guards, men of the own, and everyone else who could lift a bow that had not been out on the grounds were now on the walls of the palace, ready and waiting. Around them, warriors of the kingdom were doing the same. The pages followed suit.
"Second rank, you're to pass your arrows to the first rank if they run out. You are not to shoot unless absolutely necessary! Am I clear!"
"Yes sir," the second and first years shouted back to him. The riders were in view, followed by a giant cloud of black winged horses with sharp dagger like talons on each of their four feet. Their wings were leathery, resembling giant bat wings. The third and fourth years sighted their targets as they closed in.
"On my mark," they heard Sir Zahir tell them. The pages tensed. Inara felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The woods suddenly erupted in a flutter of noise as every willing winged animal thrust themselves forward toward the adversary. The palace dogs and cats came at a run, leaping into the air to attack the immortals. Apparently Daine was somewhere. "Now!"
The first rank fired, their arrows combining the shots fired by the more experienced warriors around them. Inara's first shot pierced her target through the wing. Her second struck it in the neck. The beast plummeted to the ground.
Inara pulled another arrow from her quiver and knocked it in her bow. She looked up, hunting for another target. She sighted a hurrok a few yards away slashing at a knight who wielding a sword, holding the winged creature off. Inara was about to release her arrow when a yowling sound reached her ears. It sounded close. Inara looked up. Just four yards in front of her, flying towards them, a hurrok flew clasping a wriggling black creature in it's talon like feet. The hurrok sagged a bit each time the animal slashed at its leg with its one free paw. Inara bit her lip and waited until the hurrok was closer. She had to time the shot perfectly if she was to succeed in what she planed.
The immortal closed in, Inara sighted perfectly and released the arrow which buried itself deep in the immortals eyes, penetrating its brain. Its talons released, sending the small black creature spiraling towards the ground, as its wings folded in and it dropped dead only feet from the line of pages. Inara wasn't watching it. She dove forward to grasp the squealing creature in her arms and pulled it to her chest. The cat whimpered in pain as she looked it over. He was barely older than a kitten and he bleed severely from several places, causing his black fur to become matted with blood. His eyes wouldn't open, even as he mewed plaintively.
"Bows down," Sir Zahir's voice reached the pages. Inara looked up. Any living hurroks were retreating back the way they had come. None of the pages were injured, however several of the riders and knights who'd been forced to combat the creatures were. The only human casualty was from the riders who had been ambushed. "Well done," their archery master told them. Go, wash up. Report to lunch as usual."
Inara didn't have to be told twice, she pushed herself to her feet, and grabbed her bow and quiver in one hand, making sure that the cat was secure in the other. She took off at a run, ignoring the shouts of her friends behind her. She needed to find Gavin. There was no sign of Daine anywhere.
Inara dashed through the hall, and came to a sliding halt as she ran into her teacher coming inside with two other adults. The first was Numair Salmalin, her teacher in magic during her first two page years. Beside him was a gentleman with a salt and pepper beard that matched his hair. His eyes were a deep sapphire blue. Inara bowed deeply to King Jonathan, Jasson's grandfather.
"Forgive me, your majesty," Inara said as she stood up. The king nodded. "Master Numair," she added as an afterthought. "It's urgent that I speak to Master Gavin," she told them hurriedly, her eyes pleading. Gavin nodded instantly seeing how flushed his student was.
"If you'll excuse us?" he asked the two men, both who politely excused him and wandered down the hall deep in conversation. "What's wrong?" Gavin asked Inara, who fidgeted back and fourth, he steered her toward a bench off to the side of the hall.
Inara showed him the cat, explaining what had taken place out on the grounds, and that she didn't have time to find Daine. The girl could feel the cat's pain, and she knew it was almost more than the small animal could bare. If he wasn't healed immediately, he would die.
"Ok, calm down. You need to be relaxed if you're going to try this," Gavin told her. Inara pulled her knees up onto the bench and sat in the traditional pose she used for mediation. She handed her weapons to her teacher who set them off to the side as she settled the cat in her lap. The animal didn't protest, but only mewed a bit as she shifted him. Inara closed her eyes and began breathing slowly, gripping her jade pendent in one damp hand.
Please let me do this. Please. He's so brave, trying to fight a hurrok all by himself, Inara thought as she sank into her meditation. Something familiar in herself answered. Her power blazed in her mind's eyes, stronger than she ever remembered it before. Imagining her mind as two fingers, she pinched off a bit of the power and brought it to the injured cat in her lap. Slowly, she wrapped the greenish white light around the animal, letting it seep into his wounds. She worked at a frighteningly slow pace, being careful not to use too much or heal him sloppily. It wouldn't do any good if she managed to cripple him.
When Inara finally opened her eyes, the hall was silent. Her forehead and the back of her neck were covered in sweat. She released her pendant and looked down at the cat in her lap. He was sound asleep, his body rising and falling with each breath he took.
"You did it," Gavin told her calmly. He was seated a little ways away, watching her. Inara carefully lifted the cat off her lap and onto the bench so she could stretch her legs. He shifted, but didn't wake.
"How long," she choked, as Gavin offered her a cup of water.
"Three hours," he told her. "I told Lord Padraig why you missed lunch. You won't be punished. The pages afternoon classes have been canceled," he added, seeing the alarm on Inara's face. The girl sighed and nodded, and began to stroke the cat. She was tired. Much more so than when she only tried to heal. But she was extremely pleased. For the first time since knowing about her powers, Inara had healed something on purpose. That something wriggled closer to her body and purred.
She took a few moments to actually look over the small cat. He was mostly solid black, but his two hind feet were probably white under the blood. He would definitely need a bath. He was thin; not starving, but there was no way he was a pet. More than likely, he'd been living in the stables feeding off of the mice. As she had guessed, he didn't look much older than a kitten. His body was almost solid muscle. Inara lifted his tail quickly to confirm that he was indeed a male. The cat mewed a bit of a protest and opened his eyes. They were pale green with bits of violet running through them and around the edges. Inara sighed. It was unusual, but she was well past being surprised by unusual things.
"I can't keep him," Inara suddenly told herself. "I want to," she added. "But pages aren't allowed pets."
"I'll keep him for you," Gavin volunteered. Inara looked at him, surprise on her face. "He's the first you healed. It would be wrong to separate you, when it's clear you've already got a bond," he told her with a small smile. "Besides, I like cats." Inara smiled back. "Lets go get him a bath and get you both some food." Inara nodded and the cat mewed his agreement. Inara laughed. He'd almost sounded as if he'd said he was starving.
"What are you going to call him?" Nick asked. He, Inara, Corin, Asten, Sam, and Benton were assembled in Inara's room after supper. The cat was on the bed, legs tucked under, tail curled around, staring into Nick's eyes as the second year crouched on the floor. Inara sat cross legged behind the little animal, while Sam sat at the end of the bed, watching Nick. Benton and Corin shared the window seat, and Asten leaned against the desk, arms folded across his chest.
"Does any one else find it odd that the puppy has taken in a cat?" Asten asked before Inara could answer Nick. Inara stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to call him Boots," she told the boys.
"Why?" Benton asked her.
Inara grinned and lifted the cat off the bed to show his feet to her companions. "White boots, see," she told them, settling him into her lap. Boots regarded her for a few moments before hopping back out and beginning to wash himself. He was already clean of blood, and he'd had a large meal after his healing and a smaller one at supper. Sam leaned over to scratch his ears.
"You know we can't have pets right?"
"I know," Inara told him. "Gavin said he'd keep him for me. I'm going to bring him there in a little." She watched as Boots suddenly dove at a loose string hanging from Corin's tunic. The boys and Inara laughed when he missed and managed to send himself flying off the bed.
"Seriously," Asten said laughing. "I think it's weird that the pup has her own kitty," he added, petting Boots.
"Well, I like cats. Besides, you're the ones that gave me the name… not me," she told him, scooping up Boots and setting him back on the bed.
"If you say so," Asten replied, shaking his head.
"We'd best get started on the extra work. No classes this afternoon means they're going to expect that we've done all of it," Corin told his friends. The boys all nodded agreement. Inara promised she'd catch up to them; she wanted to write a letter to her father first, and then she had to drop Boots off at Gavin's study. She closed the door behind them and sighed as Boots meowed.
I thought they'd never leave.
The page paused for a moment and looked down at the cat that was now twining himself in and out of her legs. She blinked. Had he said something? The weird eyes she could deal with, but a cat who talked? That was down right bizarre.
"Did you… did you just speak?"
Maybe. Boots purred. Inara bent down to pick him up and looked him right in the eyes. He blinked and licked her nose. Inara shook her head.
"I'm going insane," she laughed, setting him on the better. "It doesn't matter anyway. In a little while, you sir, go to Gavin."
I won't stay.
Now she was sure the cat was talking, at least in her head. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she'd healed him. Maybe they were connected. She stared at him. One, she could accept the fact that her cat was talking and find out why he refused to stay with Gavin, or two, she could refuse to believe it, meaning she was insane, and take him to Gavin anyway.
"Why won't you stay?" Inara asked. She knew she wasn't insane. She decided a talking cat wasn't so bad. There were odder things in life.
Boots stretched and turned on the bed, curling up in a ball. He looked at Inara once more before shutting his eyes.
You need me.
"But I can't have pets. I'll get in trouble if someone catches you."
No one will see that shouldn't. Trust me. You need me.
Inara rolled her eyes, knowing from past experience that it was nearly impossible to argue against a cat, talking cat or not. She turned her back on him and started her letter, deciding it would be best to omit that fact that Boots refused to go to Gavin and that he had told her so himself. Once again, Inara was positive that this was shaping up to be her most interesting year.
Over the next week, the pages had shortened training lessons. Their teachers were helping to clean up after the hurrok attack as well as figure out why so many had attacked at once. It bothered everyone, especially because the Odocoileus hadn't been seen since April.
True to his word, Boots was never seen by anyone except Inara, Gavin, and her friends. The cat spent every night curled up beside Inara, purring contently as they both slept. He would be gone before Lidia came in to start Inara's fire and leave her wash basin. As far as Inara knew, Boots kept out of trouble during the day. She'd see him again during magic lessons in Gavin's study, and later after supper when the pages studied together. He was an endless source of entertainment for them, pouncing on papers and attacking their quills as they worked. It seemed to Inara that Boots reserved his comments for her ears only. No one else ever heard him speak.
They day before the Midwinter festivities were to start, the pages attended hand to hand combat with only Master Malik to instruct them. The Shang Horse was off at more meetings, the young man had told them. They were to practice holds and throws for the hour. Half way through the lesson, Inara felt herself go soaring over Sam's knee. They were usually fairly evenly matched in hand to hand, and she rarely went flying. She might be lifted off the ground every so often, but this was beyond that. She had to remind herself at the last minute to slap the ground as she landed, absorbing her weight into the palms of her hands. The wind still got knocked out of her.
"Alright, Queenscove?" Master Malik called from where he stood.
"Yes sir," she replied as Sam offered a hand down to her, his face apologetic.
"What happened? You never let me throw you," he told her.
"Boots!" she whispered, pointing to where the cat stood on the wall watching the pages. His eyes met Inara's and held them for a second before he turned away and began to wash, apparently not concerned at all about the fact that his owner had just taken a fall because of him. He was in every way a non-apologetic cat.
"Back to work," the Shang told them. Both pages nodded and returned to work. Either Master Malik hadn't noticed Boots, or he had and had chosen to ignore the feline. Whichever it was, Boots didn't appear to be going anywhere.
The cat didn't show up to any of her other lessons that morning, and he wasn't in her room when she got back to bathe before lunch. That didn't surprise her. As much as Lidia and Inara were friends, the maid was bound by her job to alert the training master if any of the pages was keeping a pet. Had the maid been in Inara's private service, things would have been different.
"I need to talk to you," Inara said immediately as she entered Gavin's study for that afternoon's lesson in Magic. They'd spent the last week going over what she'd done on Boots, determined to write down everything that had been exactly perfect so she'd be able to repeat the process. Inara didn't want Boots to be a one time thing like Sam's healing had been.
"What did I do now?" Gavin asked, setting aside his book. He'd since begun leaving his door unlocked when he was there, as his student had a tendency to come and go as she pleased.
"Not you," Inara told him, her eyes landing on the cat that lay on the window seat basking in the sunlight. "No one is supposed to see you," she told him, picking him up. Boots blinked at her but didn't answer.
"Inara, you're talking to a cat."
"He can understand," she retorted. "Do you have an excuse?" she added, back to Boots. He struggled out of her grasp, landed on the window seat and began cleaning himself again. Apparently that meant he didn't care to answer.
"Now you're worrying me. He may understand, as so many of these palace animals do, but he's not going to answer you… unless you're here to tell me you've acquired Wild Magic as well as your Touch," Gavin told Inara, steering her towards her desk and pressing her into the chair. She glared at Boots once more and sighed, shaking her head. "He worried you?"
"He showed up on the practice courts this morning," Inara told her instructor. "I don't want to lose him."
"You won't," Gavin promised her. "Now, to work, apprentice!" He paused and turned to Boots who was staring at him. "You, scat. She has work to do." Boots didn't hesitate to obey. He hopped off his seat and sauntered out the open door, tail held high. "Your cat is a snob," Gavin told Inara who laughed and nodded.
Together they worked until the next bell rang, sending the pages to their next class. If hand to hand had scared her that morning, History and Law of the realm gave her a heart attack. When Inara came in and took her usual seat between Sam and Benton, she looked up to see Sir Myles already seated in his big comfy armchair right beside the fire. Curled up in his lap was a small black cat who purred happily as he was pet.
"Sir?" Hakim asked, hand raised.
"Yes?" the old knight replied as soon as all the pages were settled.
"Why is there a cat in your lap?"
"This little fellow happened to find his way into our classroom. I've said so in the past: if a cat wants to learn history, I shan't deny him that privilege," Sir Myles told him. "And he reminds me of someone I once knew," he added, scratching Boots between the ears. "Anymore questions?"
The pages shook their heads and muttered "No, sir". Their history teacher began the lesson. Inara swore she was going to kill that cat when she got the chance.
With everything that had happened in the past week, Inara felt that Midwinter actually took its time getting there. The first night of service, Inara, Sam, and Benton were finally relaxed. They'd had their first experience serving the year before, and it wasn't as bad as they thought it was going to be. Nick however, was serving for the first time and was more nervous than they'd ever seen him; even more nervous than he'd been for the little examinations. Despite his nerves, he did fine, just as the nervous first years did fine in their roles on the kitchen stair. Inara served pretty much the same table she had served the year before. Lady Alanna, Duke Gareth, and Lord Sir Raoul all greeted her, as did their spouses. Inara made sure not to bump anyone so there was no chance that her Touch would react, or she hoped it wouldn't. Nothing happened, and the night went smoothly. The second and third nights went smoothly as well.
The fourth night was the night of the ball. The pages were excused from service; palace servants took over their roles for the evening so they could prepare for the ball and attend. Only the older lords and ladies who knew Jasson personally were invited to the ball. They too would be missing from the dinner.
Inara stood in front of her mirror, gazing at her reflection. She wore a cotton shirt and hose. Boots sat upright on the bed behind her, watching her every move. In her mind she went over everything that needed to be done over midwinter. Gifts had been exchanged and opened. The lady knights who had given her a gift every Midwinter had sent her a note saying she would find her gift in the stables. When she'd gone she found beautifully made tact for Hikari. Her father, still stuck on the Scanran boarder had sent her an emerald hair piece. Her brothers had added a matching bracelet, and her mother had sent her a beautiful emerald and silver gown with matching slippers. She knew the gown would fit her perfectly, and she knew what it was for. Someone had written her mother that she hadn't been wearing dresses, and she had a distinct feeling she might have had to kill Corin. The gown lay on one side of Boots while her best uniform lay on the other.
"What do you think?"
It doesn't matter what I think. You've said it yourself; you look like a fruitcake in this thing. He pawed at the uniform for a moment and then looked back up at her. Inara sighed and shook her head. Fruitcake yes, but at least she didn't look like a complete girl. Someone knocked on her door. Frowning, Inara went to answer it, while Boots dove under the bed in case it was Lidia or someone else who didn't know about him.
Just as he'd come the year before, Sam stood in her doorway. He bowed to her. He'd already asked to escort her three days before. Inara had needed to fight a blush as she agreed. She'd really begun noticing just how handsome he was; that he would be escorting her was almost too much to tolerate. However, she couldn't have refused; he'd have wanted to know why. Inara let him into the room.
"You're not ready yet."
"I can't decide what to wear," she told him, as Boots crawled back out from under the bed. He was going to rub against Sam's legs until he saw the uniform. He instantly turned his nose up in the air, held his tail high and jumped up onto the bed, curling up away from the pages. Talking cat he may have been; but he didn't like it when he couldn't play with his people. Inara and Sam both chuckled at him a bit.
"The gown," Sam told her simply. When she frowned, he added "Corin told me what happened at your town house. No matter what you're wearing, you're still you. And besides, it's not like you're going to add all the face paint, are you?"
"Definitely not," Inara told him, shaking her head violently.
"Well, then it's settled. Go change into the gown. I'll wait here with Sir Boots," Sam told her. Recently all the pages had taken to calling Boots "sir". He definitely tended to act as if he were worthy of a title. Inara smiled and gathered up her gown, slippers, and a shift from her clothes press and disappeared into her dressing room. Things were so much easier when the boys made it sound so simple. When she reemerged, Sam let out a quiet whistle. "You look amazing. You'll wipe the floor with all those so called ladies out there," he told her, grinning. Inara blushed slightly, and ran a brush to her hair. She had already decided she'd wear it down. She quickly adjusted the hair piece and Sam helped her with the bracelet. "Ready to go."
"Yep," she replied simply, before turning to Boots. "Behave," she told him. "And don't let anyone see you." The cat turned his back to them and began washing.
"I wonder if he does that on purpose," Sam laughed, as he offered her his arm. Inara shook her head and took his offered arm.
"I don't think I'll ever know."
Just like the year before, when she entered the ball room, she drew stares and attention. She smiled, hearing positive comments on the lips of those who saw her. Maybe wearing a gown wasn't so absolutely terrible after all. Inara and Sam made their way over to their group of friends. Yancy was there as well. He and his knight master had returned just two days before. Seth wouldn't be coming, and no one had heard from Evan. Aislinn still had her arm on Nick, who had asked to be her escort. Just like Inara, their friends weren't going to let anyone have anything to say about her reputation. She seemed too frightened, or too in awe to let go. Inara couldn't figure out which.
"You finally decided to join us?" Asten asked, nodded to the two late comers.
"I'm a lady," Inara remarked. "It takes ladies a while to look pretty," she added, with a giggle.
Asten laughed. "So, my lady, were you planning on dancing at all this evening?"
"I don't know. We you planning on asking anyone to dance?" she retorted. Asten nodded and bowed to her, a slight smile on his face. She surprised all her friends by curtsying as her mother had taught her that summer and taking his offered hand. Sam released her, as she and Asten went out onto the dance floor.
"I'm glad you decided to wear a dress," Asten told her as the next dance started up. "It suits you."
"What do you mean?"
"You, I mean, well, you just look really pretty in a dress. And besides, you have to remind some of the slow boys that you really are a girl, and not some really tiny boy."
"I'm not that tiny. I'm taller than Matt and Thom," she retorted.
"They're ten."
"Well, do you need reminding that I'm a girl?"
"Never," Asten assured her. They continued the dance in silence; Inara mainly because she didn't know what to say in response. When the dance ended, they went back to their group of friends. Some of the boys had disappeared to ask girls to dance, but there was a new comer, with his back turned to her. However, she'd know any part of him, any day.
"EVAN!" she called, running to him. He spun and caught her in his arms. "You've grown again," she told the older boy.
She was right. He was almost another inch taller than she was. Evan laughed and nodded. "Another growth spurt, I think," he confirmed. "Look at you; I love the dress, pup," he added.
Inara grinned. "When did you get here?"
"This morning. We didn't think we'd make it," he replied. "There's a surprise for you," he added, pointing to where Prince Roald sat with his wife, Princess Shinkokami. With them were Lady Keladry and Inara's uncle Domitan of Masbolle, as well as her mother Yukimi, and another man. He was tall with green eyes, and long brown hair that swept away from his face in a widow's peak. His nose was the same as hers. Inara's eyes widened and she raced across the ball room, skidding to a halt just in time to bow to the royalty before she threw her arms around her father's waist.
"Is that anyway for a page to act?" Sir Nealan asked, amusement in his eyes, although the rest of his face was serious. Inara blushed in embarrassment and released him, bowing instead. "I'm kidding," he laughed, reaching down to hug her back. "Did you like your presents?"
"Very much," Inara confessed, twirling for her mother and father. Page or not, Inara was a girl, and she'd missed her father. "How are you even here?" Inara asked her father. Despite the war of her parents generation being over and the old warlord king finally dead, the Scanrans still raided. Knights were needed there constantly.
"His majesty gave me leave to visit," Neal told her, immediately noticing the disappointment in her eyes. "It's not so bad. The men at New Hope rarely get hurt. I'm hardly busy," he laughed. Inara just nodded. Despite that he was the fort's official healer, he was also a knight, which meant that he could be the one in need of a healer. "Inara?" She looked up at him away from the floor. "You're a hypocrite."
"I'm a what?" she asked him.
"A hypocrite; You don't like when I'm out fighting to protect the realm, but it'll be ok for you to do it once you've got that shield. Or did you think you'd just hang it on the wall, and go about playing young lady?"
"I – it's different for me," Inara told him. Neal raised his eyebrows, amused. "It just is," she said, failing to defend her point.
"I understand how you feel," Neal confessed. "Go. Enjoy your time with you friends," he commanded, kissing her on the forehead. Inara nodded and hugged him once again before turning to go. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "If any of those boys try anything, let them know your father will break their legs," he tapped her on the head and then released her, turning back to the conversation he'd been having with the other adults. Inara chuckled and shook her head, before returning to her friends.
"Enjoy seeing your Da?" Evan asked her as she fell into the seat beside him. Inara nodded and looked around.
"Has anyone seen Jasson; I know he's here. King Jonathan wouldn't let him and Sir Raoul leave until after the ball tonight."
"Somewhere in the middle of that gaggle of girls," Benton pointed out for her. Sure enough, close to ten young ladies were crowding around someone.
"Lucky," Yancy remarked, walking off to go get himself a drink.
"Maybe he'll introduce us," Evan suggested, standing up and stretching. "Anyone interested?" he asked the others in their group. Benton, as well as Corin and Nick went with him to go see if they couldn't steal one of Prince Jasson's admirers, leaving Sam and Asten sitting with Inara.
"I think I'm going to go get some air," Inara remarked to the two boys. Something about the way her friends had decided to go flirt bothered her a bit. And then there was the fact that only Asten and Sam were with her. She stood and walked out on to the balcony that over looked the gardens. She could see a few couples walking through, sharing kisses in the moonlight, bundled in heavy cloaks. Inara leaned down on the rail and just gazed out. After a while, she felt someone beside her.
"What are you doing out here," Yancy asked, leaning down to see what she was looking at. A young couple wandered through the garden below, stealing kisses in the shadows. Both wore hoods as if they didn't want to be seen. Yancy shook his head and sighed. "It's freezing out here," he told her. "Or didn't you notice."
"I'm not cold," Inara retorted. Yancy chuckled.
"Why are you even watching them? It's silly. If you want to kiss someone, you shouldn't have to hide to do it."
"Maybe they'll be in trouble if they're caught. Maybe their families are feuding, or she's a noble and he isn't. Maybe they'll run away together to get married."
"You're too much of a romantic, pup," Yancy laughed, turning his back on the gardens and leaning against the rail. Inara didn't answer. "Kissing's not that big a deal. It's bedding that they'd have to worry about."
"Yancy," Inara cried, shocked. The older boy shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his cider.
"It's not," he repeated. "I could kiss any girl I wanted and it wouldn't mean a thing. Just that I thought she was pretty or cute. I might even kiss a girl just for fun. You just can't get too carried away, is all," he added. Inara shook her head. Her friend had some very odd notions of kissing.
"You could not," she laughed, astonished by his nonchalant way of thinking about it. She started walking back inside. It was getting colder. Yancy raced to catch up with her.
"I can."
"Prove it," she told him. "Prove that you can kiss a girl and not get attached to her."
"Any girl here?" He asked, just as they reached the doors. Inara stopped and looked at him, determination on her face.
"Any girl here," she confirmed with a nod.
"Fine," Yancy replied. Before Inara could react, Yancy pressed his lips to hers and pulled back. "Happy Midwinter, pup," he told her and disappeared into the room, leaving Inara shocked out on the balcony.
Yancy of Nond had just kissed her. She was twelve years old, and he'd kissed her. Sure she knew it meant nothing. He'd just been trying to prove a point, but he could have kissed any girl at the ball, and he'd chosen to kiss her. Inara's head was spinning. Of all the things she thought would happen that night, Yancy kissing her was not one of them. She hadn't thought anyone kissing her was a possibility. She giggled to herself a bit. Apparently he could kiss someone and not have it mean something. Good thing she hadn't bet him on it. Still, she wasn't sure she liked have Yancy use her to prove a point. What would he have done if she'd told them what her father had said?
Inara shook her head, still a little dazed and wandered inside. It was way to cold to stay outdoors for any length of time. Inside, Inara saw that most of her friends were either involved in conversation or dancing with some of the young women at the party. Of her brothers only Donalin was present. He was engaged in conversation with some of his friends from the university. She caught his eye and gave him a bit of way. He smiled and nodded to her, but didn't leave his friends.
She leaned against the wall for a moment, still thinking about Yancy's kiss. Had he only done it because of the dress? Had he wanted to kiss her, or was it just to prove his point? Who would have thought, one little kiss would cause so much confusion? Sighing, Inara sought someplace quiet. It was still too early to leave the ball. She'd be considered rude if she did. Still, she couldn't think with so many people around. Inara's eyes spotted a door cracked near her. She knew it lead to one of the small sitting rooms that were always connected to the ball rooms. She walked towards it. Only silence emanated from within. Inara eased the door open and stepped inside. Someone jumped to their feet. The room hadn't been entirely empty.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Inara began apologizing, hoping she hadn't interrupted something.
"Inara," the person whispered. It was dark in the room. One small candle was lit on a table beside the sofas.
"Jasson? What are you doing in here?" She asked, taking a step closer. She pushed the door back into the position Jasson had had it in. "That's your party out there."
"I know," he muttered. "I couldn't take it anymore. If one more girl came up and told me she hadn't been betrothed yet, I was going to scream." Inara laughed a bit and took a seat on the couch, motioning for him to sit.
"Poor Jase," she told him. "But there are some really pretty ones out there."
"Unfortunately, they're all empty headed," he replied. "Sorry. I don't mean it. I'm just irritated."
"That's understandable. You and Lord Raoul have been cooped up here all year. You leave tomorrow?"
"First thing," he said with a nod. "I hate sitting around. I hate big parties, and I hate people trying to marry me off," he explained. "I know I should agree to finding a bride, since one day I'll be king, but Father's next in line, and Grandfather doesn't seem to be going anywhere at the moment," Jasson confessed. He sighed and placed his head in his hands. "I wish he hadn't done this."
"I kind of like it," Inara laughed, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Although, you weren't here last time, so I suppose it was probably a more social party. I bet they're all going crazy in there, wondering where you've gone."
"Let them look," he told her. "I'd rather stay here with you," he added.
"Why talk to me, when you've all those beautiful ladies out there. One's who will probably swoon over your war wounds," she laughed, steering the conversation away from her. When he was a newly made squire, he'd once written to ask her if ladies fancied men with scars. He had three on his chest from a battle with an Odocoileus.
"They've got no substance," Jasson said. He paused for a moment. "My sisters said they enjoyed your company, the night of the tea service," he suddenly told her, completely changing the subject. Apparently he didn't want to talk about the vapid girls out at the party anymore. "They wanted to apologize," he added. "Something about thinking you'd enjoy girl talk," he told her slightly confused. Inara laughed.
"They talked only of boys and court and scandals that evening. I nearly died of boredom."
"They did say you looked a bit anxious to get away," he said with a bit of a chuckle. "They based their talk on how you were dressed. Trust me; they're usually not that girlie. Mihoshi's amazing with a bow; Kimi can use a sword with both hands; and I don't know anyone beside my mother and yours who can top Lian with a glaive."
"I'd never have guessed," Inara confessed.
"They've learned to hide it. They're worried about shaming Grandfather and Father. When they're in the public eye, they want to act like proper princesses… whatever that is," he laughed again. "That's my sisters for you."
"Can I ask you a question?" Inara said after a moment. Jasson nodded.
"Your names; yours is so, well, Tortallan; your sisters' on the other hand?"
Jasson smiled and nodded. "Yamani names. Well, except Lian. She's more of a combination of both; but try saying her full name is a mouthful. Kimiko and Mihoshi, though are full Yamani names."
"Why?"
"It's a funny story really," Jasson told her, leaning back on the couch. "Have you got time?" She nodded in response, and Jasson smiled. "After Lian was born, Mother and Father realized that people would have a hard time saying her name. They decided that the rest of us would either be named for a Tortallan family member or a Yamani one.
"Father bet Mother that he could predict the gender of the next born child. If he guessed right, he could choose who to name the child after. If he was wrong, mother got to choose.
"Each time mother got pregnant, Father guessed boy. He was wrong the first two times, and right with me. Kimi's named for Mother's grandmother, and Mihoshi is for her great aunt."
"And you for Old King Jasson," Inara finished for him. Jasson smiled and nodded. They could hear the noises of the party getting louder. Maybe someone had finally realized that Jasson was missing. "You should go back," she told him standing up.
"I should, but it's so much nicer sitting and just talking to you. I'm going to miss you when Lord Raoul and I leave." He copied her.
"I'll miss you too," she confessed.
"Can I give you something; something so that you won't forget about me?"
"Jase, there's no way I could ever forget about you."
"Please?" he asked her, his eyes pleading. Inara couldn't refuse. She nodded. Jasson leaned forward and pulled her closer to him and then for the second time that evening, Inara felt someone's lips against her own.
Jasson's kiss was warmer than Yancy's, though. Actual emotion lay behind it as he clung to her for several moments before releasing her. He searched her eyes. Neither of them said anything. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," Jasson mumbled. "I'd hoped." Inara stared at him, still shocked.
"Please don't be sorry."
"You're not mad?" Inara shook her head. How could she be mad? She'd enjoyed it, hadn't she? She thought she did. It was all so confusing. Had he kissed her just to kiss her? Or did he kiss her for some other reason. "I've wanted to kiss you since, well, um… the tea service night, but there were so many people, and you're really not mad?" he asked again. Now people in the party were definitely looking for him. They could hear his father calling his name.
Inara stepped toward him and stood on her tip toes to place her lips against his. "I'm not mad," she told him when she pulled away. "I'll be mad if you don't come back," she told him. Jasson let a small smile cross his lips. He bowed to her.
"I'll go first," he told her, kissing her hand. Inara let their fingers linger together for a moment before he left the room. Once he was gone, she stood their touching her lips for a few moments. They tingled from the new way she had used them. She felt giddy inside, and much warmer than she had all night. With a happy sigh, Inara went to open the door. It swung open before she could touch it.
"There you are," Evan told her. "I've been looking for you."
"Please don't say you're going to kiss me too," she told him, as he took her arm and guided her back out into the well lit ball room.
"You and Jasson go missing and then Jasson reappears suddenly, smiling, and you're still no where to be found… and why would I kiss you?" Evan paused and stared at her, completely confused. Inara just smiled and walked towards their friends. "Inara! Tell me!"
"Did you hear I have a cat," she said, changing the subject.
"Inara!"
"His name is Boots; Or Sir Boots. You'll have to come by and meet him before you and Lady Keladry leave."
"You're purposely ignoring me."
"Did you say something?"
Evan just stared at her as she crinkled her nose and eyes at him and engaged herself in conversation with the rest of her friends. No need to say anything now. People would find out sooner or later.
Author Note: Well, for all of you who are sitting their blinking and saying to yourself: Oh Mithros, she didn't… guess what… I did. LOL. So yeah, I've been good for 1 entire book and four chapters of another. I can resurrect characters if I so desire. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about… you need to re-read TP's books.I have a bit of bad news. Writer's block got worse, not better, so chapter 5-? are not even started. Hopefully I won't get too far behind, but if I don't post next Monday, you all know why.Thanks for the reviews in advance,
Fateless Wanderer