~*~*~*~ The Pride of the Convent ~*~*~*~
Chapter Three: Courting Trouble
Genre: General/Action/Romance Rating: PG-13Disclaimer: I don't own a thing….and hey, my purse is missing! Stupid insolent characters! I told them not to pickpocket me! Well, Tamora owns most of the things here. I own what's new in this…giggly convent girls, thieves, and….well…that's it.
Author's Note: The html is only partly working. Alanna's thoughts are supposed to be in italics, but it doesn't always work out. Other italics….might not work either. Oh, and I know it's not very original. I'm going to have to see what I can do about that. :o) Thanks for reviewing!
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The carriage was stuffy, and it was a long ride to Corus. Alanna was in a carriage with Trycia, Delia and Lydiana, and things would have been fine, if not for Delia.
Delia still thought that she was everything the Prince wanted, and that he would be hers. Alanna just sighed in disgust, and then, picturing a handsome prince, flat on the floor with Delia sitting on his back, laughed. That would certainly be a sight to see. Then, her thoughts drifted to her dear brother, and the book she had slipped in her bag after Daughter Alice had gone through it. The book wasn't all she had packed secretly either. Thom and Alanna needed things they couldn't have. Thom needed books for sorcery. Alanna needed things to be a boy. As it worked out, Thom was a boy, and Alanna had the power to get him books. So, back and forth they sent packages and notes, but it had been far too long since she had last seen him, and she missed him dearly. She grinned to herself. Thom didn't know she was among the girls that were coming. It certainly would be a surprise for him.
Delia was drawling on again. "You know, Alanna, if you try to act charming, there might be a squire you could dance with."
"You know, Delia, if you'd stop thinking so highly of yourself, you might actually be pleasant to talk to," Alanna said, in a sickly sweet voice.
Delia was outraged. "I think so highly of myself with good reason, Trebond."
Oh, no, Alanna thought, with a laugh. She's
calling me by my last name! Goddess save me!
"Because no one else will?" Again, Alanna said this in a sweet voice, and
added her most charming smile. Even she could have gotten the Prince
with that smile.
"Oh, Trebond," Delia said, fuming, "One day…you're going to get it! I know some very powerful people."
"Pity, Delia. I know some pretty powerful people myself.." She looked at her, unflinching and then, picked up a book she had brought, The Art Of War. Of course, she had spelled it to say, Late Tortallan Poetry of The Romantics. The Daughters weren't usually too happy when they found war books under her bed.
She read silently, thinking that she should have become a hero, like the ones that conquered armies in her book. She should have dressed as a boy and she should have gone to the palace. But, Coram wouldn't hear of it. So, off to the convent she had gone, but her dreams had never died.
After two more days in the stuffy carriage, they pulled into Corus. Alanna pulled the shade on her window up and looked out at Corus. It was bustling, exciting and beautiful. Her thief's lifestyle allowed her to pick out the pickpockets and spies, but she didn't see the Rogue himself. She'd meet him later thought. She knew it for sure.
"Hurry up Thom!" Raoul called, banging on his door.
"Not to meet the court ladies, surely? I don't want to meet them! They're too giggly!" Thom grumbled, stepping out of his room to glare at the Knight.
"Well, who knows, maybe after they've all fawned over the Prince, me, Gary, Alex and Francis, they'll fawn over you some!" Raoul said, with a laugh.
"Thanks Raoul. You're a real confidence builder." Thom glared at the knight and followed him out into the entrance hall, to watch the young ladies fawn over the Prince. As the ladies spotted the Prince and let out amazed squeals, Thom shook his head and went to leave when he felt someone squeezing him, if you could call it that. Thom preferred calling it attacking.
He craned his neck to see who was behind him, and found his sister.
"Alanna!! Sister, you came!" Thom hugged his sister tightly.
"I didn't have a choice," she whispered in his ear.
He laughed and pushed her back, his hands on her shoulders. "Let me have a good look at you."
She smiled and stood as straight as she could. Her lavender dress billowed around her ankles, and hugged her hips. She wore a silver necklace, strung with an amethyst pendant and amethyst drops in her ears. Her red curls fell about her, cascading to her shoulders. She was beautiful.
"Look at you!" Thom breathed. "Alanna, you look wonderful!"
She grinned. "Thanks Thom. You look quite good yourself. Finally filling out I see," she teased.
He smirked at her. "Thanks sister," he replied, dryly.
She was about to remark on the sword that hung at his waist, when a large group of boys came over to where Thom was standing.
There was gawking, and gaping, and finally some one poking Thom and hissing to make introductions.
"Oh, of course," Thom said, with a grin. "Sister, this is Prince Jonathan." She curtsied, and smiled at him, her eyes not leaving his sparkling blue ones. "And this is Sir Gareth- Gary- the younger of Naxen." She curtsied again. "Sir Raoul of Goldenlake." She curtsied. He winked. "And Sir Francis of Nond." She curtsied again, but rather felt like cursing.
"Hey, where's Alex?" Thom said, wrinkling his brow.
Jon shrugged and looked at Thom suggestively.
"Oh right! Guys, this is Lady Alanna of Trebond."
"Thanks Thom," Alanna said, dryly.
Her hand was kissed four times.
She wanted to scream, but didn't. She liked Thom's friends. And as far as things went, they weren't too bad for lovesick puppies. She liked Raoul especially. He was fun, smiling and laughing, and poking fun at Jon, Thom and Gary. Despite her orders to act a lady, she joked with them, quickly forgetting whose company she was keeping. It wasn't until she caught Delia's very nasty glare that she remembered. She smiled at Delia sweetly and went back to talking to Thom and his friends.
There would be no ball that night, as it was decided that the young ladies were probably tired from their travels. Alanna snorted at that, privately, but knew she'd find better ways to occupy her evening. The afternoon that stretched out before seemed more of a burden. With a sigh, she grabbed her book from her quarters and sought out the gardens. She found a secluded corner, shaded by a young oak tree and lay down underneath it on her stomach. She kicked off her healed shoes and let her feet dangle in the air, ankles crossed.
She read for a while when she heard a quiet exclamation of surprise. She looked behind her at the gardens. The Prince was standing to her left. She quickly got up, brushing the grass from her dress and curtsied and murmured, "Highness." He sighed.
"Please, just Jon."
"Of course." She smiled. "I assume this tree is one you'd rather be sitting under? If it is, I can find somewhere else to read."
"Nonsense. I just came here to think, and there's room enough here for the both of us, if you don't mind company."
"Not at all." She slid her shoes back on and sat at the trunk of the tree.
"So, you're going to act proper, now that I'm around?" he laughed.
"Well…"
"Just be comfortable. I won't tell anyone you're not acting the part of a noble lady."
She grinned. "Thanks Jon." She slid back onto her stomach, and let her shoes fall back off. She propped her self up by her elbows and looked at him for a few minutes, her fingers tracing the spine of her book.
"What are you reading?" he asked, trying to see what was written on the cover. She held it up for him.
"Sounds fascinating," he commented, looking at her thoughtfully.
She laughed. "You'd find it far more fascinating if you knew what it really was."
He raised an eyebrow and she laughed again.
"I spelled it. It's not poetry at all!" She took the spell off of the book and showed it to him again.
His brows knit together when he saw it, but he laughed. "You seem less like a proper lady the more and more I get to know you, Lady Alanna."
"It's just Alanna."
"As you say!"
Both of them laughed and Jon asked her why she was interested in the art of war.
She shrugged noncommittally, knowing he would probably shun the idea of a warrior maiden.
He looked at her, eye to eye. "There is something, isn't there?"
Again, she shrugged.
"You're very bad at lying," he commented, with a grin.
If only he really knew, Alanna thought. She laughed at this. "I know I am! We aren't trained to lie, only to flatter effectively."
Jon rolled his eyes.
"Has someone been flattering you?" Alanna already knew. Delia.
Jon shook his head ruefully. "She won't leave me alone!"
"Could your admirer be one Delia of Eldorne perhaps?" Alanna asked, setting her book down on the grass.
"How could you tell?"
Alanna merely grinned, and sat up on her knees, clutching her clasped hands to her heart and then in a voice that matched Delia's almost perfectly, "Oh! He is the most handsome man in the world!!!! And I know he'll be mine! Honestly, can you imagine being queen. Oh, not you Trebond! You'd be lucky to marry a pig! But I, I just know that the Prince will love me! I can see it now…" Alanna put on her own voice again, "And that's when I asked if I should marry her brother."
Jon laughed uncontrollably. "I didn't know there was a young Eldorne lord. He's never been to court…"
Alanna's eyes twinkled. "With good reason."
Jon laughed again, smiled and kissed her. Alanna's eyes widened. She had never been really kissed before and was very surprised. She liked it. He stopped kissing her and looked at her, a sheepish grin on his face. Alanna smiled, and he went to kiss her again.
"Alanna! There you are!" Trycia. Of course. Alanna picked her book up, and hoped the girl hadn't notice that she and the Prince had been nose to nose. It didn't seem that she had.
Alanna closed her eyes, hoping the girl would go away. Instead, she came closer. Alanna went through all of the curses she knew in her head, and after that, she made up a few new ones, that would have turned a sailor white.
"Trycia! I've been wondering where you were!" she exclaimed in false excitement. Jon looked at her, grinning and whispered, "Liar!"
She shrugged. "Didn't learn it at the convent, then, did I?"
"What else didn't they teach you at the convent, that somehow you picked up?" he asked, eyes gleaming as Trycia walked carefully across the yard.
"Oh, you'd be surprised." She grinned and he shot her a questioning look, before she slid on her shoes, picked up her book and ran over to Trycia.
"What is she hiding?" Jon asked himself, watching her as he thought long and hard about the girl with the dancing purple eyes.