SUMMARY: Alanna's still fuming over being forbidden to see the new page...
DECLARATION: Not mine; they belong to the fabulous authoress, Tamora Pierce.
~ORDERS~
BANG!
The door flew open to slam against the wall with a crash.
"Curse it... curse *him*... do this, Alanna, do that, Alanna. Keep away from the girl, Alanna!"
The door crashed again as it was kicked closed.
On the large, ornately carved bed in the middle of the room, George Cooper opened an eye.
His wife paced the room furiously in the dim light. Obviously, her meeting with the king had not gone well. For a second, just a second, the man debated feigning sleep for a little while longer. He knew what was coming.
Unfortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands.
"George? George?! Are you awake?"
In the second it took him to decide on his reply, she lost her patience. 'Ah, so it's like that, is it?'
With a sharp gesture, she threw the light of her magic at the branches of unlit candles around the room. In her anger, it was too much; with a flare and an odd squelching sound, the wax sticks melted into puddles, the wicks burned to nothing.
"Gods CURSE IT!"
With a sigh, he sat up in bed as she lit the room with her Gift alone. In the pale purple light, she looked furious. But he noted the underlying frustration and... was that a slight tinge of sadness?
"What happened?" His voice was even, revealing nothing of what he had seen in her face.
Alanna whirled to face him.
"That... he... Wyldon..."
"Hush," he interrupted as she spluttered. "I take it there was no good news."
"Oh, there was good news all right." He had rarely heard her voice so bitter. "A girl's applied to train as a page."
George paused.
"Is that not what you've been wanting?"
"Yes, that's what I've been wanting, George," she replied with heavy sarcasm. He ignored it, settling himself back against the pillows. "But they refuse to let me see her. I'm 'not to involve myself in her training'," she mimicked harshly.
Whatever it was he had been expecting, this was not it. He sat up sharply.
"They did what?"
For a moment she was silent as all anger seeped from her body. She sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Her voice was tired and weary.
"They ordered me away, George. They said that because people think I magicked my success, it might taint her. People might believe that I spelled her to prove that females can be knights. Stuffy, uptight conservatives," she muttered, but her heart wasn't in it.
George leaned forward to rub her back. With a wry smile, she rested against his supporting arm.
"Jon ordered me, George." Her voice was small. "He ordered me, like I was an object or something, a thing that was just there to do his bidding. He's never treated me like that before."
"Well, my darlin', everyone knows how strongly you feel about this." He grinned at her in the half-light. "Maybe it was the only way he had of making you hear him."
Alanna allowed herself a slight snort. "Maybe. But I wanted to *help*, George. I thought that maybe when I became a knight, things might be different, especially when Jon passed that law, and Thayet started the Riders. But it's not. It'll be even harder for her than it was for me, and if I go near her, I'll cause more damage." She paused. "I never thought that I could hurt my own cause, just by being who I am."
George rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. "I know, lass. But feeling sorry for yourself won't help anything along."
She stiffened, the anger flowing back into her body in a flood. "I am not-" she started, and then paused. "I am, aren't I?" She scrubbed her face with her hands. "Well, that's enough of that. We'll ride for the Swoop in the morning, and I'll find a way around Jon's *order*," her voice was still slightly bitter, "see if I don't."
George chuckled. "I don't doubt that for a second, my love." He scooped her up and gathered her into bed. "But you might as well be comfortable while you plot, don't you think?"
Finally, finally, she smiled. "I guess so." The light vanished.
For a few seconds, there was silence. Then, "I can't believe Wyldon had the nerve to mention probation! And I can't believe he got Jon to agree!"
"Alanna..." The word was a sigh; slightly exasperated and a little more frustrated.
"Sorry, sorry..." There was silence again, broken only by the rustling of sheets. All was peaceful.
Outside, an owl hooted. The moon shone down on the sleeping palace, glinting off glass windows and turning grey stone to silver. A gentle breeze stirred the treetops in the Royal Forest.
And in a large, comfortably furnished room, a redheaded woman leaped out of bed with a gleeful cry.
"I have it! It's perfect..."
And as her voice eagerly outlined her plans, there was another, quieter sound; the small, heartfelt groan of a thwarted husband.