***Okay guys here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long but between FFN messing up and the wonderful place the government wants us to go to, aka, school I haven't had time to post the new chapter. Thanks to all you guys who reviewed! I really appreciate it. Oh yeah again if any of you know how to do italics and different fonts when converting the file to txt. Could you please tell me? Have a wonderful week!***

Wow…I wrote this chapter a long time ago, seeing as I'm in college and that note was from high school. Hope you enjoy it.

The next morning instead of awakening to the usual chill of his room Joren awoke to the warmth of a fire, a cheerful humming, and the aroma of a warm cider drink.

Miara looked over from her cleaning and smiled, "Good morning m'lord. I've poured warm wash water for you and soon as your done dressing I've a warm drink for you."

Joren snorted and rolled over, closing his eyes. He wasn't a morning person and he hated people who were cheerful this early in the day. "Mmmf!" he cried as he was hit in the face with his spare pillow.

"M'lord!" Miara said grinning down at him, "Tis time to get up. You best hurry or you shall be late. I've already heard some of the other boys going down to the mess." That got him moving.

He swung out of bed and shoved her out of the way, "Then get out of my way wench," he growled as he made his way to the washroom grabbing his clothes along the way. Once there he changed and splashed warm water into his face. Then he turned and examined himself in the mirror. Instead of seeing the handsome youth others saw, he saw a failure. 'Stupid oaf,' he thought to himself, 'What would father say if he knew I was letting the girl stay.' Joren turned away from his reflection knowing his father would call him weak and pitiful. A disgrace to the family name. Exiting he found a cup of warm cider thrust into his hands.

Before he could yell at her, Miara said, "Sit. You have time. There's no need for this sourpuss attitude. Perhaps I should throw you in the mud. You always seemed to be nicer when you were covered in mud."

Joren about choked on the cider when she made reference to their childhood antics. He stood and slammed the cup onto his desk causing some of the drink to spill over, "Don't you ever speak of that! I was stupid to ever mingle with servants," he spat at her. Ignoring her hurt look he stormed past Miara to his door saying over his shoulder, "I expect my room clean when I return." And without waiting for a response he left for the mess.

After the midday meal, Joren introduced Miara to Paxton. They exchanged pleasantries and then Miara went about her work. "Joren will you come to my room please?" Paxton asked, although there was only one answer.

Joren nodded and followed Paxton back to his room, "What did you wish to see me about?" he inquired.

Paxton rubbed a hand through his brown hair and fixed his gray eyes on Joren. "You had best treat her well Joren. I know what happens when boys have female servants. Many end up taking advantage of them. I don't care if you are my squire, if I find out of any mistreatment I won't hesitate to bring you to the Court of the Goddess. Is that understood?" he asked Joren.

Joren laughed, "As if I would want to actually fraternize with a..a servant! What gave you that idea?"

"I know your position about women. You hardly respect them. Look what you did to Mindelan's servant a few years back. You're lucky you are still able to try for your shield!"

"Sir, that was necessary. I can't believe they still let her take the examinations. Such a pity this country is coming to.." he broke off when Paxton grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him close.

"You listen and you listen well, Squire. You had best adjust your attitude and learn some respect or you have a good chance of never making it out of those chamber doors," Paxton told him angrily. Then he released Joren and strode out of the room. Joren straightened his tunic with shaking hands and walked back to his own room, with a step that was not as confident as it had been before Paxton's talk. Despite his best efforts to justify himself, Paxton's reference to the Chamber of Ordeal left Joren with chills.

Miara was humming to herself as she surveyed the room. Already things looked better. No dirty clothes lay on the floor, the bed was made properly with the pillows fluffed. Joren's desk was tidied and the room had been swept clean. Miara frowned though. Something about the room still bothered her. There was no personality. As far as she was concerned it might have been just any old room. She smiled and looked at the big rolled up canvas in her hand. 'That's about to change,' she thought as she gathered the hammer and nails she had persuaded the black smith to give her. Miara grabbed a chair and moved over to the blank wall. Starting to hum again she began to hang one side of the painting up. She had found the picture tucked against the wall when she had cleaned under his bed. Deftly she started working on the other side. As she was working she heard a crack. Looking down she realized one of the legs had almost split in half. 'Great,' she thought, 'and I was almost done.' She decided the chair could hold her for a little while longer as she tried to drive in the last nail. Just as she hit it one last time the head of it snapped off and her knuckles scraped against it. "Ouch! By the Black God!"

Joren heard Miara cry out and rushed in to see what was going on. His first surprise was that Miara was on a chair with her fist up to her mouth and a hammer on the ground. He stopped cold when he saw the painting she had hung. His mother had sent it to him his first year as a page. It depicted a young blond haired boy sitting at the base of a tree near the edge of a cliff watching a glorious sunset over the mountains. His mother had sent it along with a note that told him to look at this whenever he had a problem to think through. She'd written that it had a calming affect. On one of his father's few visits he'd ordered it to be thrown out, saying that the only way to solve problems was to fight it out. Joren had gotten a kick in the rear and was sure his mother had faired worse. Joren hadn't wanted to throw it out so he'd hidden it. Then when he'd moved into his squire room he still hadn't had the heart to throw it out.

Coming back out of his reverie he surprised himself when he asked, "What happened? Are you alright?"

Miara not having heard him come in spun around in surprise, unfortunately resting most of her weight on the side with the split leg. It let out a loud crack and before her mind could register it she was falling towards the ground. Suddenly she felt strong arms grab her and turned her startled eyes to look up at Joren. "Sorry m'lord. I ....I think I broke your chair," she said as it was first thing that popped into her head.

Joren's mouth twitched into what suspiciously looked like a smile. "That's alright," he said as he set her down, "I've been looking for an excuse to give Sir. Paxton so I can go into town."

Miara smiled with relief, "Finally! I was beginning to think you'd never warm up. After running into those fellows Cleon and Nealan I was worried that you'd turned out to be a cold hearted sadist like your fa...."she trailed off realizing she'd been about to insult his father.

Joren stared at her a moment. "What about my father?" he asked coldly.