"So, that's little Lianne?" Roald nodded in the direction of the black-haired girl sitting in the midst of the daughters of the courtiers. "You didn't present me earlier--I should be offended."
Gary grinned sheepishly. "Please pardon the oversight, Highness--it's just that we hadn't seen each other since I left for the Hill-Country."
"I know, Gary; I was only joking. Still, she's grown up hasn't she?"
The brown-haired boy looked over at his younger sister, trying to see what his friend meant. "I hadn't thought about it--she looks about the same to me; a little taller, maybe."
"How old is she now?"
"Let me think--she'll be 17 just past Midwinter. It always annoyed her when we put her birthday presents and her Midwinter presents together."
"Is she here to stay, then?"
"That's what father said--he wants her to enter into court life, and all that. Poor Lia--she always hated that sort of thing."
Roald sipped from his waterglass--he did not particularly care for wine--and continued to watch Lianne in silence. Whatever Gary said, he could see that changes a few seasons had wrought: her face had lost the roundness of girlhood, and her slim, boyish figure had begun to fill out; beneath her coif, Roald could see that her maids had pinned her hair up in a woman's braid. He also noticed that the eyes of a number of other young men were upon her as well, and the realization filled him with an unexpected sense of possessiveness and insecurity. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gary looking at him curiously, and quickly turned his attention back to dinner.
*****
"Who is that, sitting next to my brother?" Lianne quietly asked the girl sitting next to her. The young woman, the flaxen-haired daughter of the Lord of Maven, looked, then snickered unpleasantly. "You _are_ new, aren't you? Mithros...that's Prince Roald!"
Lianne flushed, and laughed uneasily. "I'm greener than I thought," she said as gracefully as she could. She was surprised that she hadn't recognized her childhood playmate, but the years had worked many changes upon his face. Beneath the thick, neatly-trimmed beard, she decided, his face had grown harder, more angular; of course, she couldn't see him well from this distance. The rest of the meal was spent in uncomfortable silence; Lianne silently blessed the pages who came to clear the dishes and announced that the young women should proceed to the great hall for after-dinner dancing. She trailed a short distance behind her peers, somewhat at a loss for what to do.
"Lianne," came a deep, butter-rich voice from behind her. "It's been a long time."
She whirled around, startled, and looked up into Prince Roald's face. She felt her mouth working, but no words came. Dusky color rose to Roald's high cheekbones. "Pardon me," he said, backing up a short ways and giving her a low bow. "I should not have expected you to have remembered me after all this time."
"No," she rasped after a moment, recovering her voice. "No, I do remember you, your Highness." She returned his bow with an awkward curtsey, and they stood for what seemed like an eternity in silence. The prince's intensely blue eyes held hers, making her head ache slightly. "Excuse me, do you know where my brother is?" she asked after a moment, at a loss for what else to say. "I haven't seen him for more than ten minutes since I've been here."
"I'll take you to him, Lady," the prince answered graciously, surprising Lianne by taking her arm. His elbow hooked around hers felt uncomfortably personal, yet at the same time exhilarating; she knew she was blushing furiously, and pressed her hand to one hot cheek. Gary was sitting by one of the great, stained-glass windows in the hall, watching the swirling dancers; he smiled warmly as he saw his sister and his closest friend approaching. "Are you enjoying the feast?" he asked, grinning.
"It's all a bit overwhelming," she admitted, carefully withdrawing her arm from Roald's; the prince seemed to take the hint, and drew back a little as Lianne sat down beside her brother. "His Highness was gracious enough to escort me here, though."
The corners of Gary's mouth turned down with amusement. "Ah, Roald: always the model of chivalry. Why, when we were still in training, it was enough to turn an honest page's stomach!"
Roald smiled indulgently. "Say what you will, Gary--I still got higher marks than you."
Gary gave a martyred sigh, and turned his attention to his sister. "I'm sorry, Lia--I forgot that you're not used to court ways yet. You'll become accustomed to them though. Just wait until Midwinter! The celebrations they hold here in Corus would put even this feast to shame." He sipped from his wineglass. "So what have you been doing with yourself, little sister? I haven't seen you in months."
She shrugged. "Nothing that compares with what you've been doing--unless you consider embroidery and working through "The Book of Courtly Dances" as exciting as battle and adventure in the Hill-Country."
"Hmm." A mischievous look crossed her brother's face. "You hear that, Roald? She says she's been studying courtly dances! I say we give her a final test--there's a morris dance next." Before Lianne could blink, her brother has whisked her out into the swirls of people with Roald as her partner. As the music began, she looked into the face of her companion, and saw that he was a taken aback as she was. "Well, then," she said with as much grace as she could muster, and began moving.
Gary grinned sheepishly. "Please pardon the oversight, Highness--it's just that we hadn't seen each other since I left for the Hill-Country."
"I know, Gary; I was only joking. Still, she's grown up hasn't she?"
The brown-haired boy looked over at his younger sister, trying to see what his friend meant. "I hadn't thought about it--she looks about the same to me; a little taller, maybe."
"How old is she now?"
"Let me think--she'll be 17 just past Midwinter. It always annoyed her when we put her birthday presents and her Midwinter presents together."
"Is she here to stay, then?"
"That's what father said--he wants her to enter into court life, and all that. Poor Lia--she always hated that sort of thing."
Roald sipped from his waterglass--he did not particularly care for wine--and continued to watch Lianne in silence. Whatever Gary said, he could see that changes a few seasons had wrought: her face had lost the roundness of girlhood, and her slim, boyish figure had begun to fill out; beneath her coif, Roald could see that her maids had pinned her hair up in a woman's braid. He also noticed that the eyes of a number of other young men were upon her as well, and the realization filled him with an unexpected sense of possessiveness and insecurity. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gary looking at him curiously, and quickly turned his attention back to dinner.
*****
"Who is that, sitting next to my brother?" Lianne quietly asked the girl sitting next to her. The young woman, the flaxen-haired daughter of the Lord of Maven, looked, then snickered unpleasantly. "You _are_ new, aren't you? Mithros...that's Prince Roald!"
Lianne flushed, and laughed uneasily. "I'm greener than I thought," she said as gracefully as she could. She was surprised that she hadn't recognized her childhood playmate, but the years had worked many changes upon his face. Beneath the thick, neatly-trimmed beard, she decided, his face had grown harder, more angular; of course, she couldn't see him well from this distance. The rest of the meal was spent in uncomfortable silence; Lianne silently blessed the pages who came to clear the dishes and announced that the young women should proceed to the great hall for after-dinner dancing. She trailed a short distance behind her peers, somewhat at a loss for what to do.
"Lianne," came a deep, butter-rich voice from behind her. "It's been a long time."
She whirled around, startled, and looked up into Prince Roald's face. She felt her mouth working, but no words came. Dusky color rose to Roald's high cheekbones. "Pardon me," he said, backing up a short ways and giving her a low bow. "I should not have expected you to have remembered me after all this time."
"No," she rasped after a moment, recovering her voice. "No, I do remember you, your Highness." She returned his bow with an awkward curtsey, and they stood for what seemed like an eternity in silence. The prince's intensely blue eyes held hers, making her head ache slightly. "Excuse me, do you know where my brother is?" she asked after a moment, at a loss for what else to say. "I haven't seen him for more than ten minutes since I've been here."
"I'll take you to him, Lady," the prince answered graciously, surprising Lianne by taking her arm. His elbow hooked around hers felt uncomfortably personal, yet at the same time exhilarating; she knew she was blushing furiously, and pressed her hand to one hot cheek. Gary was sitting by one of the great, stained-glass windows in the hall, watching the swirling dancers; he smiled warmly as he saw his sister and his closest friend approaching. "Are you enjoying the feast?" he asked, grinning.
"It's all a bit overwhelming," she admitted, carefully withdrawing her arm from Roald's; the prince seemed to take the hint, and drew back a little as Lianne sat down beside her brother. "His Highness was gracious enough to escort me here, though."
The corners of Gary's mouth turned down with amusement. "Ah, Roald: always the model of chivalry. Why, when we were still in training, it was enough to turn an honest page's stomach!"
Roald smiled indulgently. "Say what you will, Gary--I still got higher marks than you."
Gary gave a martyred sigh, and turned his attention to his sister. "I'm sorry, Lia--I forgot that you're not used to court ways yet. You'll become accustomed to them though. Just wait until Midwinter! The celebrations they hold here in Corus would put even this feast to shame." He sipped from his wineglass. "So what have you been doing with yourself, little sister? I haven't seen you in months."
She shrugged. "Nothing that compares with what you've been doing--unless you consider embroidery and working through "The Book of Courtly Dances" as exciting as battle and adventure in the Hill-Country."
"Hmm." A mischievous look crossed her brother's face. "You hear that, Roald? She says she's been studying courtly dances! I say we give her a final test--there's a morris dance next." Before Lianne could blink, her brother has whisked her out into the swirls of people with Roald as her partner. As the music began, she looked into the face of her companion, and saw that he was a taken aback as she was. "Well, then," she said with as much grace as she could muster, and began moving.
