Chapter One: All That Glitters




Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, yada yada, they belong to the wise and powerful Tamora Pierce, and I own the plot. So there!

Author's Note: I am so insulted! *Sniff sniff* Well, not exactly. But don't judge a book by its cover. Or a story by its author. I may be totally for A/G, but what about....well, I shan't (ooh, big word for me there) reveal the plot, but think....outside the box! Thanks for reviewing! Oh, and to Lady Carlee, I was going to work on the Wild Magic Bloopers but I lost the disk it was saved on!



Waves of lilac silk cascaded to her feet, clad in silver slippers. The fabric tightly hugged her curves, making it hard to breathe. "Now this is definitely not comfortable," Alanna the Lioness wheezed as she examined herself in the full length mirror in the corner of her room.

But, she noted with satisfaction, she did look quite elegant in the silver and lavender gown Jon had selected for that evening. Her coppery hair was pinned up in a delicate-looking arrangement atop her head. And the final touch...the crown. A silver piece of art, consisting of twirling curlicues of the finest silver in all of Tortall, adorned her head. A ruby stood out proudly in the crown, announcing without a word that she was the Princess.

The maid dressed in a dark cotton dress with a white smock nodded in agreement. "Yes, ye're certainly fit to be the Princess, o' course, once ye're touched up a bit," she noted, making Alanna suddenly angry.

Alanna whirled around and faced the maidservant. "Excuse me? You're saying that I'm fit to be the Princess because I can be made to look nice in a dress?"

The woman backed away nervously. "No, no, milady. I was just saying how nice you look, that's it, I promise, by the Goddess! Please don't hurt me!"

Alanna's face softened. "Don't be upset, I wouldn't hurt you because-," the maid was slowly backing towards the door, her eyes huge in fright, "-wait, what's wrong? Did I-"

The servant had turned and bolted for the door, stumbling over the threshold and high-tailing it down the hall. Alanna ran to the door and was able to see the obviously terrified, for what reason she had no idea of, turn the corner and go out of her range of vision.

She turned and went back to the mirror, which she leaned on again. Alanna sighed, remembering how King Roald and Queen Lianne had taken the news that she, the "illegal" Lady Knight, was to be Jon's wife and the next co-ruler of Tortall. His parents, Roald especially, had been red with fury while he yelled at Jon. It had taken Myles, Jonathan, and even Duke Gareth to help persuade him to give Alanna even a chance. But Jon had stood by her through it all. "I love her," he stated simply, and refused to take it back or to change it.

She was leaning on the mirror, smiling to herself and thinking of Jonathan when Faithful interrupted, Didn't I tell you that you'd fall for the prince?

Alanna whirled around and glared at her cat. "Never could give me a moment's peace, now could you?" she demanded. Her cat smiled, as only cats can, then leaped off the satiny bedspread and left the room.


* * * * * * * * *


Twirling through the crowd of courtiers, looking like brightly colored birds in their new clothes in celebration of Prince Jonathan's betrothal, Alanna was escorted by her fiancee to the thrones of the king and queen. She felt a slight flutter in her stomach; tonight she was to be accepted into the Royal family; this was it.

Feeling the tension in the stiff way she held her arm, Jon squeezed her hand gently. "Don't worry, my love," he whispered. "I promise they don't bite."

Alanna smiled weakly and clutched his arm tightly.

Whispers from the crowd made her wonder if everyone was talking about her. From the rude look on some of the more beautiful court ladies faces', she could tell easily that not everyone was pleased to have a new Princess.

Reaching the King and Queen, Jon released her arm and swept down into a bow. Alanna copied him, only in difference she made a curtsy with her skirts. Mistress Eleni, her friend George's mother, had been at the palace assisting Duke Baird, the chief healer, and had weakened to Alanna's pleads for help.

"Rise, my son, and Lady Knight," King Roald commanded, standing up himself. The King was a powerful figure, even though his raven hair had slowly begun to wane into a slate-gray color and his once-trim waistline had grown. Clad in the Royal colors of red-and-gold, his expertly embroidered tunic bore designs of twirling leaves. His face, wrinkled from worrying and concerning himself about his people, smiled kindly down at her, though the Lady Knight suspected it to be a false act of benignancy towards her.

"Lady Alanna of Trebond," Alanna suspected that he called her Lady to remind her that that was what she was to become, "my son has chosen you to be his bride, the future Queen of Tortall, the Princess. It is my duty to ask you this question, and then to join you to our family. Do you love Jonathan?"

Alanna's "Yes" rang out through the ballroom almost immediately after the old king was finished, and a roar arouse through the vast masses of Tortallan subjects. Jonathan took her hand and they kneeled together as King Roald gently laid his scepter against her shoulder and she became the honorary Princess of Tortall.


* * * * * * * * *


Jonathan and Alanna stopped momentarily to inhale fresh air into their burning lungs, then resumed kissing. The Lady Knight and the Prince were in Alanna's room, several days after the ceremony. And, contrary to how she had been expecting it, the life of a Princess wasn't that bad.

True, she had snuck out to practice and train in the yards, and had used her Gift to light the candles instead of waiting for the servants, and also had written letters to the people of the Bloody Hawk by herself. If anyone had found that out, she admitted only to herself, they wouldn't find the Princess very ladylike.

But this wasn't the time for that. Jon sighed and rose into a sitting position, pulling the Lioness into his arms as he did. She gently ran her hands over the hair covering his broad, bare chest and he let loose a small moan of pleasure. Alanna turned and rested her head on his broad shoulder while he stroked her back. "Now, why ever did you have so many misgivings about this?" he whispered, making her grin and look into his face for another kiss.

It was true; Jon had been incredibly sweet and loving during the time she had spent at the palace as his bride-to-be. He hadn't demonstrated any of the awful behavior that had made her so unsure of her answer in the desert at all. It's strange, she thought to herself, but aren't all men?

Jonathan turned and gently pushed her back onto the bedspread, making her fiery hair fan out like a court beauty's skirt. He positioned himself on top of her and kissed her again, harder this time. Suddenly, though, the experience with the maid struck a chord in Alanna's memory. She pulled away and gasped, "Jon, I need to ask you something."

Jon rolled off her and kicked off his new leather boots. "Is something the matter?" he asked quizzically. His face was a total question mark.

The Princess sighed. "A few nights ago-some time, oh yes-the night of the initiation, I was being helped get ready-"

"-In a stunning gown, might I add," the Prince added slyly.

"By a maid, actually. There's something I wanted to ask you about her."

Jonathan rolled over again and sat up. "Alanna, there are hundreds of maids in the palace alone. You can't expect me to keep track of the all." His face was hard and cold, almost angry. Involuntarily her temper began to rise.

"I know that. But when she was finished, she said something like, 'You're fit to be Princess because you look so lovely', and when I demanded what that meant, she became frightened and took off down the hall."

"Well, you do have quite a, ahm, violent reputation here, my darling," Jonathan countered. "She was probably afraid you'd hurt her-"

"Hurt her? Jonathan, what kind of a person do you think I am?" Alanna stood up angrily, almost tripping on the hem of her dress.

Jonathan stood up too. "Alanna, don't overreact. You yourself said that you hoped the "scandal" with Roger would die down, didn't you? She was probably only a commoner with and ear for gossip."

Alanna sank back into the bed, her face still burning with anger. Jonathan snuggled up beside her, though she was as still as stone. He wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her neck invitingly, but she shrugged him off.

"Not tonight, Jon."

Jonathan of Conte opened his mouth in shock. No woman had ever told that to him, not ever! But Alanna wasn't joking; he could see it in the way she set her jaw and stared straight ahead defiantly. Without a sound he swept off the bed, snatched up his boots and was gone.

For some time, she had no idea how long, she sat there and shut her eyes tightly, willing the tears not to come. "I am not a baby!" she whispered angrily. "And I don't care about him!"

"Who, me?"

From the doorway came a voice that Alanna hadn't heard, but missed, since she had left Corus for the first time. A very important someone who had expressed his feelings for her before Jonathan had.

"Hello, Alanna."