I want to thank everybody so much for the reviews. I'm so glad you guys like it so far. I hope to continue updating regularly, however I need to get my hands on one of the books in the second quartet to look up a few names that I've forgotten. Or if somebody knows them, I need the name of Pasco's dance teacher and the name of Lark's new student at the end of Magic Steps. And no, LizDarcy and Sandry16, I won't tell you yet who the pairing is. However, within the next few parts you should guess it. I want to thank everybody AGAIN for the reviews! Hope you like the next part.
Part 2 - Changing Winds
Tris opened the wooden door, feeling exhilarated after her session on the northern wall. No matter how many times she let her inner self free to fly with the winds, she would never get tired of it. Sometimes the burden of her body simply seemed too much, and she needed to get away. That was why she'd originally decided to lose her excess weight two years ago. Well, that and Kethlun.
But something about the winds flowing over Winding Circle today gave her this sense of excitement and danger. They whipped around, playfully tumbling with one another, inviting her to come along with them. It was with great regret that she had returned to her body after several miles of travel with them. Yet, upon reentering herself, Tris had discovered that the hyper, joyous feeling still remained. It hadn't just been coming from the northern winds, but also from somewhere inside herself. From a part of her that seemed to be stretched toward the South.
Stepping inside Discipline cottage, Tris quietly closed the door and passed the table set for dinner without a thought. Lark was probably in her workroom to catch up on some spring mending; and Daja would likely be in her own room working on some task that Frostpine had given her in their afternoon lessons. As for Lark's new student, Tris never saw much of him accept for at meals. He seemed inclined to stay to himself as much as possible. That thought made her smirk, for it reminded her of herself seven years ago, when she had struggled in vain to reject a young noble's offers of friendship. Little had she known then that Sandry would pursue a friendship until the end of time; but Tris knew that she owed a lot in her life to her friend, and what better way to try and pay some of it back than to do the same thing for another?
Tris pushed her long copper curls over her shoulders and stepped toward the room that she had grown up thinking of as Sandry's. Something caught her eye, however, making her stop and slowly turn her head back to the table. It was set for six diners, not the normal four that it had been ever since she'd returned a month ago. Tris instinctively faced the south side of the cottage, reaching out with magic to the winds headed in that direction. Who's coming? she asked them silently.
Their reply was the smell of green, growing things. The blooming of blossoms in the spring. The cheers of plants as the sun is freed from the clouds.
"Briar... Rosethorn," Tris whispered to herself, hardly daring to believe. But those specific descriptions could only mean that her friend and teacher were coming home at last. Knowing from the winds that it would be another hour before they arrived, she began the climb up the stairs toward the ladder to the roof rather than heading toward her previous destination. She needed time to herself to collect her thoughts.
* * * * * *
The tall, sturdy man glanced over at the young girl sitting by his side. She had spent a lot of time that spring in the sun, going from place to place and tending to many of his affairs. He suspected that it was her way of escaping the reality that he was dying. If she kept herself busy, how could she think about it? He was sure that's what she was subconsciously telling herself, although she'd never admit it, for to admit that would be the same as admitting his weakening condition.
Returning his eyes and pretended attention to the noble in front of him, Duke Vedris IV wondered if his great niece truly wanted this responsibility. As the ruler of Emelan, it was his right to decide his successor, and practically everyone at the Citadel knew he would rather choose Sandry than his son. Not to mention, everyone would support his decision to name her the next ruler, as well.
"Sir, his Grace regrets your present dilemma with the servants of your house. However, as they are your own responsibility, it is your duty to deal with this problem," Lady Sandrilene fa Toren announced to the complaining man before them. "I would also like to remind you," she added, with a note of cold warning, "that the Duke's law of fair treatment and adequate payment to servants is to be observed and followed by all. Please keep this in mind as you decide how to best regain order in your house."
The noble looked at Lady Sandrilene with obvious contempt, though wisely kept his temper in check as he spoke. "My Lady, I ask only for his Grace's aid in this matter and do not wish to punish my servants for their insubordination--"
"Thank you," Sandry cut in icily. "His Grace has heard your plea. You may leave, now."
Seething, the noble inclined his head to just the degree due to the Duke's great niece, and not a measure more. As soon as the angry man had left the room, Duke Vedris motioned for his own servants to follow him, as well. He turned again to Sandry.
"My Dear, you almost lost your temper."
"Forgive me, Uncle. Sir Lastius is known in the market for his cruel treatment of servants and those of lower status. I used my knowledge of this in my judgment of who was at fault for the disorder of his house," Sandry replied, slowly relaxing and releasing some of her anger now that it's target was gone.
Duke Vedris thought about this for a moment, marveling at his niece. She knew and conversed with the common people of Summersea better than he ever had. If she was appointed the ruler of Emelan, he knew that she would be good for all of its people.
"I think you would make life better for those in the city, given the chance," he finally said, lightly.
Sandry's sharp blue eyes turned to his, so as to not leave him wondering if she'd understood his meaning. Fear and anger flashed through those eyes. "I will continue to help you, Uncle," was her only reply.
Duke Vedris sighed. He would let the subject drop if she was unwilling to talk about it. There was still time to discuss it later. Not much, but some. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"
"I will be going to watch Pasco's dance lessons in the morning. After that, I plan on a ride through the city. Unless, of course, if you need me," Sandry answered, grateful for the change of topic.
Part 2 - Changing Winds
Tris opened the wooden door, feeling exhilarated after her session on the northern wall. No matter how many times she let her inner self free to fly with the winds, she would never get tired of it. Sometimes the burden of her body simply seemed too much, and she needed to get away. That was why she'd originally decided to lose her excess weight two years ago. Well, that and Kethlun.
But something about the winds flowing over Winding Circle today gave her this sense of excitement and danger. They whipped around, playfully tumbling with one another, inviting her to come along with them. It was with great regret that she had returned to her body after several miles of travel with them. Yet, upon reentering herself, Tris had discovered that the hyper, joyous feeling still remained. It hadn't just been coming from the northern winds, but also from somewhere inside herself. From a part of her that seemed to be stretched toward the South.
Stepping inside Discipline cottage, Tris quietly closed the door and passed the table set for dinner without a thought. Lark was probably in her workroom to catch up on some spring mending; and Daja would likely be in her own room working on some task that Frostpine had given her in their afternoon lessons. As for Lark's new student, Tris never saw much of him accept for at meals. He seemed inclined to stay to himself as much as possible. That thought made her smirk, for it reminded her of herself seven years ago, when she had struggled in vain to reject a young noble's offers of friendship. Little had she known then that Sandry would pursue a friendship until the end of time; but Tris knew that she owed a lot in her life to her friend, and what better way to try and pay some of it back than to do the same thing for another?
Tris pushed her long copper curls over her shoulders and stepped toward the room that she had grown up thinking of as Sandry's. Something caught her eye, however, making her stop and slowly turn her head back to the table. It was set for six diners, not the normal four that it had been ever since she'd returned a month ago. Tris instinctively faced the south side of the cottage, reaching out with magic to the winds headed in that direction. Who's coming? she asked them silently.
Their reply was the smell of green, growing things. The blooming of blossoms in the spring. The cheers of plants as the sun is freed from the clouds.
"Briar... Rosethorn," Tris whispered to herself, hardly daring to believe. But those specific descriptions could only mean that her friend and teacher were coming home at last. Knowing from the winds that it would be another hour before they arrived, she began the climb up the stairs toward the ladder to the roof rather than heading toward her previous destination. She needed time to herself to collect her thoughts.
* * * * * *
The tall, sturdy man glanced over at the young girl sitting by his side. She had spent a lot of time that spring in the sun, going from place to place and tending to many of his affairs. He suspected that it was her way of escaping the reality that he was dying. If she kept herself busy, how could she think about it? He was sure that's what she was subconsciously telling herself, although she'd never admit it, for to admit that would be the same as admitting his weakening condition.
Returning his eyes and pretended attention to the noble in front of him, Duke Vedris IV wondered if his great niece truly wanted this responsibility. As the ruler of Emelan, it was his right to decide his successor, and practically everyone at the Citadel knew he would rather choose Sandry than his son. Not to mention, everyone would support his decision to name her the next ruler, as well.
"Sir, his Grace regrets your present dilemma with the servants of your house. However, as they are your own responsibility, it is your duty to deal with this problem," Lady Sandrilene fa Toren announced to the complaining man before them. "I would also like to remind you," she added, with a note of cold warning, "that the Duke's law of fair treatment and adequate payment to servants is to be observed and followed by all. Please keep this in mind as you decide how to best regain order in your house."
The noble looked at Lady Sandrilene with obvious contempt, though wisely kept his temper in check as he spoke. "My Lady, I ask only for his Grace's aid in this matter and do not wish to punish my servants for their insubordination--"
"Thank you," Sandry cut in icily. "His Grace has heard your plea. You may leave, now."
Seething, the noble inclined his head to just the degree due to the Duke's great niece, and not a measure more. As soon as the angry man had left the room, Duke Vedris motioned for his own servants to follow him, as well. He turned again to Sandry.
"My Dear, you almost lost your temper."
"Forgive me, Uncle. Sir Lastius is known in the market for his cruel treatment of servants and those of lower status. I used my knowledge of this in my judgment of who was at fault for the disorder of his house," Sandry replied, slowly relaxing and releasing some of her anger now that it's target was gone.
Duke Vedris thought about this for a moment, marveling at his niece. She knew and conversed with the common people of Summersea better than he ever had. If she was appointed the ruler of Emelan, he knew that she would be good for all of its people.
"I think you would make life better for those in the city, given the chance," he finally said, lightly.
Sandry's sharp blue eyes turned to his, so as to not leave him wondering if she'd understood his meaning. Fear and anger flashed through those eyes. "I will continue to help you, Uncle," was her only reply.
Duke Vedris sighed. He would let the subject drop if she was unwilling to talk about it. There was still time to discuss it later. Not much, but some. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"
"I will be going to watch Pasco's dance lessons in the morning. After that, I plan on a ride through the city. Unless, of course, if you need me," Sandry answered, grateful for the change of topic.