Lord Alan was much more distant in the books, but we only saw him after his wife had been gone ten years bringing his children into the world. In this universe, he and his wife loved their children together and he never had reason to despise the Gift.

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Lady Lioness: Chapter Nine

Alanna had no idea just what Myles had planned, but her father had approved and Myles had promised her that it wasn't an offer of marriage. She had blurted that question when Myles told her to dress in her nicest black dress for the dinner that night, but didn't regret asking. Myles had laughed and promised that betrothal wasn't on the table, and that he wouldn't steal her from her false romance with Raoul. Her father had taken tea with her, and he had asked entirely too many questions about Sir Myles to make Alanna not suspect some kind of happening.

"Stop fidgeting," Salma chastened as she attempted to fix Alanna's hair. "It's like you want to get burned again, and it doesn't matter to me you'll fix it up directly. I'd as soon not hurt you."

"Sorry, Salma. I'm just nervous about this, that's all. I hate surprises."

Salma nodded to acknowledge the apology and kept at her work with the curling iron. "With your crowd of friends, I think that's odd. All the palace is twittering that you and Sir Gareth are friendly, now, even after the man insulted you so rudely before. I'm of a mind to approve, but you certainly like surprising other people."

"It isn't like I try," Alanna retorted, twisting toward the mirror to see Salma's work the instant the hot iron was out of range. "Oh, Salma…"

Salma smiled. "I saw the old court portrait of your mother, so it was quite intentional. You and that twin of yours got your hair in the same place, that's for certain."

Alanna very hesitantly touched one of the elaborate braids that wound about her head in a coronet, but left the ringlets framing her face alone. Her hair didn't like hanging onto artificial curl, but Salma seemed to have a touch for unruly locks. "I guess I'm ready, then, but I wish Myles would have told me."

Raoul was her escort for the night, and he knew just as little as Alanna. Beyond that forgivable failing, he was wonderful. He joked with her while she waited at the receiving line yet again, like a lady that hadn't been introduced, and she did feel a little better to know that the herald was just as puzzled as both of them.

Next to Raoul, it was extraordinarily easy to look graceful and delicate. He was hardly clumsy, but he was half the size of a small giant, to hear the old tales tell it. She curtsied to King Roald, and nodded to the rest of the room, and felt very small when Raoul bowed and stepped away. She was the sole focus of the court's attention, but she kept her back straight and her head held high.

A man she had never seen before was seated at King Roald's right hand. At the king's gesture, the man stood, and by the size of his signet ring he could be nothing less than a duke. Sure enough, the herald announced him in the next moment.

"His Grace, Sir Turomot, Duke of Wellam," he called.

Duke Turomot didn't acknowledge the introduction. "Lady Alanna of Trebond. Sir Myles, baron of Olau, has extended one of our realm's oldest offers to you. He offers to make you his true heir. Should both of you die, the land will be held seven years so that any illegitimate heir of his may step forward."

There was a loud buzzing through the hall that had peaked at 'illegitimate,' but Alanna had frozen at 'heir.' She would never have asked for such a thing, but she supposed that was the point. She inclined her head as regally as she could instead of spinning to ask Myles what he was on about not telling her that he wanted her inheriting Olau. "I am honored to accept Sir Myles' kind offer, your grace."

"Let it be known that Lady Alanna has assented to this plan, and that from this moment, her proper title will be Lady Alanna of Trebond and Olau." Turomot nodded stiffly to her, and then to King Roald, before leaving the room at a dignified pace.

Raoul thumped her on the back very lightly before leading her to sit with Lord Alan. "Bit stunned, milord," Raoul told her father cheerfully. "She'll clear up, though."

"She always has before," Alan said fondly. "Daughter, don't think this means that I am giving up any claim on you. I… well, Goddess knows I'm not likely to survive losing Marinie for very long, and I want you to be well. It seems that Thom will not put your welfare before his own, but Myles offered to do just that."

"I hate surprises," Alanna muttered, feeling very ungrateful.

"I know, but think what fuss you would have made if Myles offered directly," Alan chided, standing to kiss her forehead. "Now eat your dinner and go thank Myles later. He invited someone along as his guest unexpectedly, which would have been enough to have him seated at a lower table. Then there's the rank of his guest. Several with not enough sense in their heads are aflutter that old money is courting a commoner."

Alanna's brows shot straight up. "He works fast," she murmured, glancing along the edges of the room until she saw Eleni. It was impolite to wave, of course, but a smile wouldn't be amiss. Myles ignored dignity to wave cheerfully. "He's met her twice with me, and visited her last night. Mistress Cooper is my healing instructor."

"Your mother would be very proud to hear that you're learning to heal," Alan said, following her gaze to the woman sitting with Myles. "She'd be proud all around, and I suspect she'd say to wait out Thom. I was a bit of an idiot in my younger years, thinking I wouldn't need anything but my books and my research. Your mother went and pulled me out of that library by sheer power of will, and a dance later she had me."

"Pity he's managed to alienate everybody but Lady Delia," Alanna said thoughtfully. Maybe another woman would succeed where she couldn't, but she suspected it would need to be someone Thom hadn't yet offended. "Beyond the part where I'll not let Delia near him, no matter how obnoxious he is, she's only interested in Roger." Alanna looked at her father, taking in all the new wrinkles and the small changes that no stranger could find. "One dance?"

Her father smiled as he shook his head. "One dance broke the shell, but I'd waited a bit too long. Believe me, the greatest thing I ever did might have been winning her over. That led to you and Thom. I know that boy will see the light, in time, and I hope it will be before he manages to do something even family couldn't forgive."

Alanna shivered, reflexively clutching at her ember pendant. Something in those words felt all too much like prophecy for liking, and maybe the Goddess had chosen her for something more than healing and minding a scrap of a kitten that was rapidly growing into a handsome young cat.

A glimmer of gold caught her eye at Muirne's table. Harailt of Aili was doing some trick that turned a folded napkin bird into the real specimen, briefly, and that process shone gold. Alanna let go of the pendant in surprise, but touched it again when the gold vanished.

She could see the Gift with the Goddess's present. Whatever the Great Lady had meant, it seemed that it was more complicated than Alanna had wanted to consider at first.

Raoul nudged her elbow. "Himself's noticing," he muttered when she started at Raoul's interruption. Sure enough, Duke Roger was watching her closely.

"I was wool-gathering," Alanna told her friend, letting her voice carry Duke Roger's way. "Do you suppose there's a spell to remove cat-hair from clothes? Faithful never likes to be left alone, and seems to shed on me every time I have a nice event to make."

Raoul had met Faithful twice, and he was canny enough to continue a light conversation about cats and pets in face of Roger's scrutiny. Raoul had a big warhorse, as only befitted his stature, but he had named the war-trained animal Calm.

"It's a useful thing to yell around the pages, is all," Raoul explained. "The men, too. Sing out 'calm' and they often come to senses. Calm and I will be getting a little field practice, as it happens, and I just had my orders this afternoon. I'm really glad you and Gary get on, now, because I want someone looking after you and someone keeping him from hiding himself in a corner."

"Where are you going, Raoul?"

"The desert," he answered. "Haven't the faintest idea how a big brute like me is expected to make friendly with the natives, but as it happens I'm the only knight with a company of enlisted men all to my own. It's going to be some kind of campaign, I'll tell you that. I don't even have the name of the tribe I'm contacting, just a vague location."

It sounded like a poorly veiled excuse to get rid of Raoul, a known supporter of Jon and close friend to Gareth of Naxen, but he was just as like to notice. The Bazhir wouldn't know that the giant Tortallan was one of the friendliest men the crown could offer. "Gary has no such postings?"

"He's in grieving, and only three months ahead of yours. It'll be summer before anyone can command him on a mission, and Gary knows not to volunteer until he's really alright." Raoul sounded calm, at least, and didn't look at all afraid.

"I'm sending a few presents with you," Alanna said impulsively. "A full self-healing kit, so don't you turn it down. Bruise balm, creams for sunburns and wind rashes… some sort of horse liniment, I'll ask Stefan about what's the best kind."

"Add something for sore feet and I'll propose for real," Raoul joked. "Well, fake-real. You're the best sister I never had, Alanna, and I'm glad that you'll be set as a baroness while I'm off to fight the wars."

Alanna grinned, pleased she wouldn't have to fight Raoul on accepting the present. "If we really want gossip, you can even take a handkerchief along as a favor."

"Do me a favor and kit in enough sun cream for the enlisted men, instead. They're not like to come with anything as nice as you can make."

"Done," Alanna promised. "When are you leaving?"

"Four days from now, in the morning."

"You'll have it ready to go by then, Raoul, and Goddess watch over you." Alanna clutched at her pendant again, to make the words stick as best she could. He was important to her, and she couldn't imagine court without her enormously tall friend.

"So mote it be," he replied automatically. "I don't mean to talk of sadder things on your big night, Alanna. You'll be a baroness, now, and it's finally late enough that I can go get my things in order before I head out. Calming Gary down is going to be the worst, after he lost his father to some magic from a Bazhir tribe."

"I'll stop to talk to Myles, at least, and to say hello to Eleni. I don't think you've met her before, but you really should find Gary before gossip spreads too widely about your new mission." Alanna hugged her friend, not all that bothered that her arms were barely over his waist.

"Good thinking, Alanna. You keep yourself out of too much trouble, now."

The parting felt final, for all that Raoul wasn't leaving quickly at all, but she found out why very quickly. Her father was leaving the next day, as Tortall had experienced bad flooding, so her morning would be spent seeing him off. After that, Myles had offered to take her on a trip to see the barony that she now would inherit, with Eleni coming along to continue her lessons.

In light of the gift, she refrained from saying that more than healing lessons were like to take place. Eleni had a very enlightened view on the proper placement of intimate affairs, and Alanna had the feeling she'd be entertaining herself after dinners out of politeness. Myles and Eleni would rather be left alone.

"You might want to check on your mount before the ride," Eleni said mildly. "I know you haven't had much chance for riding, yet, and you'll want to be sure the two of you are still getting on."

Alanna suspected the reasons, but she wasn't averse to a visit from George. "I'll just stop in my room to change, then, and dirty up a plain dress walking around a horse's stall." She did like visiting Moonlight, as it happened, and she wanted to keep her alibis firmly intact.

Just half an hour later, she was in the stables wearing one of her plainest dresses. Just as she thought, a man in the stable's livery was very competently mucking out Moonlight's stall.

"We really can't keep meeting like this, George," Alanna chided quietly, once she confirmed his identity through the moon's light silhouetting his jawline. He actually jumped, which had to be some sort of credit toward her. "I have the feeling that you're tricky enough to influence Myles?"

"Ye know me too well, I think. I helped Myles find the right laws t'push the matter through Turomot, and he's the best there is. If Turomot says it's all well and legal, nobody will fight him on it." George finished laying down the clean straw before hugging her. "You did look quite nice earlier, but this isn't half bad."

"George!"

"The Lord Provost walked right by me, his vision is weaker on the left side and he still doesn't compensate enough," he explained, laughing. "Relax, milady, I know my tricks. I'd not be living without dancing on the edge once in a bit. Speaking of an edge, I'll be coming along to Olau for a day or two. It does my people good to try living without my nannying them all a day. The troublemakers'll get bored and give me more to do than sit about looking impressive."

"Gods forbid," Alanna muttered, irritated enough for the tiny blasphemy. "At least I'll have someone to talk to after dinner."

George grinned widely. "I couldn't have found somebody I'd trust more with my mother, and I can't help but approve of a fast worker. Much more efficient that way, after all, and it's not like either would change a mind anyway."

"My father approves," Alanna confided, still a little stunned by the admission. "To hear everybody, he was very set in stone when he was young, but my mother must have changed him more than I thought. Myles is an old friend of his, so I guess he put happiness first."

"Then he's a wise man, and your mother was one of those women I wish I could have met."

"She would have liked you." Somehow, it didn't hurt to talk about her mother with George, or at least talking about the best parts didn't hurt at all. "She would have liked any of my friends, I think, but she'd say we were already something about a story. You're enough of a story on your own."

"Mayhap, but I'm the type people will remember vaguely—hopefully as that Rogue that retired gracefully enough that the lawmen didn't chase him forevermore. You're going to be a known name by the end of this, Alanna, and I'm never wrong about those kind of things." George looked very, very serious, but she supposed that they had to be.

"It only makes sense," Alanna admitted. "Your mother knew from the start, I think, because this pendant I always wear…"

"It's god-touched."

"A little more than that." Alanna toyed with it, not finding any magic around them. "The Goddess gave it to me, right after I found a kitten with purple eyes. You haven't met Faithful yet, but I get the feeling that is going to change. Faithful doesn't like being left behind."

"That's… huh." George didn't look taken aback so much as relieved. "That explains why my mother was so taken from the start, even more than the healing alone."

Somehow, it made sense that George would know before Raoul. "Raoul's being sent to the Bazhir. Do you think…"

"I'll look into it," George promised. "I'll slip a couple pages into library books he uses, and I'll even have one of my palace folks do the job."

Alanna might have a very strange circle of friends, but she wouldn't trade any of them for the world. She wouldn't even trade them for her brother.