PRE-A/N: It's been a while since I could check my reviews, which is why I haven't written back to anyone in the last few chaps. Now I have boo-koo people to write back to. Feel free to skip them if you weren't one and go straight to the story.

-Ekirth: No, Flauvic isn't having past/present trouble. If it seems like he is, it's all my fault, but I didn't catch anything when I went back and read. Can you be more specific?

-FelSong: Poor Flauvic was having a rough day, and he was a lil grumpy. Can't fault him for that.

-Sailacel: Flauvic is scrubbing dozens of huge pots for all those nobles, their families, parties, plus the other servants, all being used constantly to feed an entire palace full of people, for hours on end, everyday, for months... Sounds like hard labor to me. And, yes, had they been dressed just like potted flowers, it would have been hilarious watching them fall over.

-nebula: Thank you, (bow) thank you.

-Wake-Robin: I actually started writing this story back in February or March. I just didn't post anything until...whenever the first post date was. But thank you anyways.

-LadyStarFire: Welll, she did a lot of the work for Flauvie, but, with as many pots, pans, and dishes that there were to wash, he probably did quite a bit of work himself.

CHAPTER 12- Morning and Night

I awoke to sunlight, just as I'd fallen asleep to it. I felt rested, but had no idea how long I'd been out. I stood and tried to stretch, my body protesting every movement, forcing groans from my throat. I was sore and achy from so much hard work. I grimaced and kept trying to loosen my muscles.

I also noticed that I had been changed into my night dress, but didn't remember doing it, or having it done. How long had I been asleep? I called Maureen in to help me get dressed, since my arms were refusing to move very far, and certainly not over my head. She informed me that I had slept through the rest of the day of the duel, plus nearly an entire second one while helping me to get into a light blue day dress. It was second green already.

"You must be joking!"

"No, Your Highness," Maureen said. "Her Majesty said to tell you that you should go to see her as soon as you woke. She wishes to speak with you."

As I stiffly rushed out of my bedroom and into the salon, ready to run out the door to apologize to my family for being so lazy, as I'm sure they must have seen it, when something on my table drew my attention. I paused in my dash to the door and walked over to see what that bit of greenery was. It looked like a crown from far back. Close up, I saw that it was a laurel crown, symbolic of victory in sporting events, and grinned. There was a simple folded piece of paper standing like a small tent with one word on it written in the same handwriting as the note that had accompanied my dress had been: "VICTORY!" I laughed out loud and tried the coronet on briefly; and then I had to go and meet with my mother. I removed the crown and had Maureen put it in my room while I swiftly exited my front door.

I met with Mother in my parents' salon in their suite of rooms. She was pacing and seemed anxious, her forehead creased in worry. She looked up in near surprise when I barreled in. Her face softened in relief when she realized that it was me.

"Elly, you're awake," she breathed, rushing over to hug me. We met in the center of the room to embrace. From there we went to sit on cushions and Mother called for sandwiches and tea to be brought in to us.

"Maureen said that you wanted to see me," I said. "I would have been here sooner, but I must have been more tired than I thought."

"Yes, you had us worried," she admitted. "I just wanted to tell you... well, to tell you how amazed and impressed I am that you did what you did yesterday. You know how hard I've had to work to become proficient enough to protect my home and family when need be. Your natural skill with a blade must be something that you inherited from your father. Masterful work, sweetling. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," I smirked, thinking about how "natural" my skill was while practicing like mad at all hours of the night for the last few days. "I'm pretty impressed, myself. I didn't know if I could do it, honestly."

She was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Where did you learn that style of fencing, Elestra?" Mother asked, her face sober and suddenly very serious. "None of the swordsmaster's in Athanarel knows that pattern. Your father says that he doesn't know it, but he has suspicions of where it originated from. Unfortunately, he's not telling me what those suspicions are. The two of us have been married for a long time, and there is not too much that he doesn't tell me, but this he's withholding because he's afraid that I'll be worried or that I'll do something rash- I quote. Tell me, Elestra, why should he be so worried? Why is he afraid that the source of all this sudden knowledge will upset me? He's not talking, so I would appreciate it if you would."

I gulped, agreeing with Father that Mother shouldn't be told that it was Flauvic who'd taught me that pattern. But how did he know that information, if it was such a secret. This didn't look good for me.

"I...I can't, Mother," I sighed, avoiding her eyes. "Can't you be glad that I just made it possible to maybe get the border settlements' security? Lord Nerroc gave his word that he would speak with his king when he returns and see if he can convince him to take a more active stance against ex and current Norsundrian military turning into brigands. He lost, he has to keep his word. And even if he doesn't, we're no worse off than before. No man is going to go to a city where no one has seen him in a year and tell everyone that he got beaten by a girl in fencing, his supposed best subject."

Mother chewed her lip while she thought. Eventually she shrugged and shook her head, eyeing me intently.

"I'll trust you because you have never lied to me," she said carefully, as if she were recalling something said long ago. "I wish that you would tell me, but I also think that you are old enough that you don't need to tell us everything that goes on in your life. You're a smart girl, Elly, so don't disappoint me."

"I won't," I promised sincerely. "You have my word on it. No bad will come of my not telling you where I learned to fence."

I hoped.

We ate lunch in peace, although Mother was still unsure of my answer. Once the food was brought in I realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten in days. I nearly pounced on the sandwiches, devouring the first three almost whole. Mama laughed at my suddenly voracious appetite. When we were finished, she and I went for a walk around the gardens.

We passed many people who wanted to congratulate me. Phillo caught up to us from behind and, after a suitable amount of nothing-talk, informed us that he was going to throw a party in my honor at the end of the week to celebrate my victory. I thanked him, but said that it wasn't necessary.

"Nonsense," he refuted me. "I would be a poor... friend-" he hesitated on the word suspiciously "-if I didn't do something to show my pride in my friend and my princess."

***^^^***^^^***

The party Phillo held in one of the smaller ballrooms of the State Wing was small compared to some. There were fewer guests than at one of Tara's parties, for example. Nerroc had been invited, I was told, but he declined, claiming that he was coming down with something.

I wore another of the Flower Day dress-inspired gowns, though much less formal, that made me look like a woman of nearly twenty-one and not a girl of fourteen. This one was a light grayish-blue with white and silver doves and bluewood leaves embroidered on it. I got many compliments, both on the dress and on my fencing triumph. There were also quite a few questions as to where I had learned the moves I'd used to win the duel. I always smiled, sometimes laughed, and refused to tell them anything.

There was dancing later in the night and Phillo claimed me right away for the first set. He was a good dancer, but it was with the skill that one had to practice on sisters and other relatives before going out into public. There was no real grace to his movements. He seemed to be nervous tonight, and that was adding to his lack of skill.

At the end of one of our frequent dances together, for I couldn't seem to get away from him, Phillo asked me if I would go with him out onto the balcony to get some air. I agreed, not wanting to be around the others any longer than necessary. Truthfully, I wanted to leave the whole party as soon as possible, but it was impolite to skip out on a party that was being held in ones own honor.

Once we had ditched the rest of the party, Phillo led me to the far side of the balcony where we could look down into one of Athanarel's gardens but the guests couldn't see us from inside.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" he asked.

"Mmm. I'll miss summer, but autumn is always breathtaking," I said. "The colors are always such a surprise. It's as if we always forget that they're coming, no matter how many years we've seen them, and then, suddenly, the world explodes into one last vibrant display before the leaves fall."

"That's what I like about you, Elestra," he smiled. "You always see things that others pass by as something special."

"I'm no poet, Phillo," I told him indignantly.

"No, but you have this way..." He blushed suddenly, his face starting to blend with his red hair in the dark. He took two halting, unsure steps to my side. "Elestra, I- I was w-wondering what you thought of me? Be-Because, I find that I'm more drawn to you every day. You are lively and brilliant and funny and smart...and I believe that I'm in l-love with you. Do you...? Can you find it in your heart to try to see me in the same light?"

I didn't know what to do. I had known that Phillo was... I don't know, infatuated with me, I guess. But I hadn't expected the normally shy young man to confess his feelings to me; feelings that, I was sorry to say, I didn't return. He was a good friend, and someone I valued. But he wasn't someone I loved. Not the way he wanted, anyway.

"Phillo, I... I don't know what to say," I admitted.

"You don't have to answer me now," he said softly. "I know that I was rather focused on Kitten until recently, so you might not believe what I say, thinking I'm fickle or such. Still, I'd like you to think about it. Please?"

I didn't have the heart to tell him no, and I found that I was nearly desperate for someone, almost anyone, to say to me the things that he was saying. "Alright, Phillo. I'll consider what you've said."

He smiled brightly and leaned down. I don't know what I expected, but he surprised me again when he kissed me full on the mouth. It was warm, and soft, and a little moist, though not slobbery. He didn't rush me or come on too strong. On the contrary, he was nearly passive against my lips. A brief touch, just long enough for me to get a feel of what it would be like if I chose to go further with him, and then he pulled back.

"We should probably go inside now," he said, clearing his throat. "We've fed the gossip-mongers enough for tonight."

I nodded, unable to speak.

...Lips....

It was my first kiss, and all I had felt... were lips. Somehow, I had expected....more than that. More than just lips. I was angry at myself for being a romantic idiot, but I had expected to have my heart race and my mind cloud over and to nearly stop breathing. I was disappointed that I had been so calm. So...... lips.