A casual onlooker, on observing the girl waiting by the door of Jonathan of Conte's office, might have been forgiven for noticing nothing out of the ordinary about her. Certainly, the golden hint to her skin and the slight slant of her eyes suggested an eastern origin, but in Tortall one could expect to see those of all races – Bazhir, Yamani, Carthaki and K'mir mixed freely with the paler natives. Trousers too were not unusual; those in the Queen's Riders were accustomed to the more practical garb, so another figure waiting to see the king would have drawn no second glances.

Those who had looked again however might have found more than a little to generate curiosity, though not from what she was doing. More, perhaps, from what she was not doing. There was a strange stillness about her, a silence that rippled outward. Not a stillness simply for the sake of being still, but the stillness of someone for whom movement was not currently important, the stillness of someone who is completely focused on what is going on inside themselves rather than outside.

The innermost matters that Ilaria was currently considering centered almost entirely around what might be going on on the other side of the door, and by extension what was going to happen to her. Naturally, nobody had suggested asking her what she wanted but then, Riane at least had known perfectly well what that was with asking.

Thinking about Riane Kinswood, and all that he symbolised, created a hard knot of misery deep in her stomach that she hastened to push away again. Though he hadn't said as much, the dreadful finality of the journey that had brought them here had said the words for him – He would be going away, and leaving her here. In a strange land, amidst strange people the like of which she had never encountered before, with strange customs she did not understand. Perhaps in any other circumstances she would have been delighted to be here, experiencing this. Not now though. Not if to be here, she had to give up everything else.

A dark haired woman passed by, sparing her an interested glance. Stubbornness forbade Ilaria to return the gesture, but did not stop her taking advantage of the opportunities the advent of a new stranger presented. She flicked her eyes sideways quickly, then casually extended one slim finger sideways just far enough to halt the swing of the door as it returned to its original position – the only movement she had made in nearly fifteen minutes of waiting. Riane probably wouldn't have approved but a little eavesdropping was sometimes necessary, especially in a situation such as this. Voices filtered through the small crack where the solid wood didn't quite meet the wall.

"…Ah Buri, there you are." The voice was a man's, smooth, cultured, unfamiliar. "We were just discussing Alanna's new charge."

"Jon! Stop it!" An irritated woman cut him off. "I hadn't agreed yet, and I wasn't planning to. I don't have time for another pupil right now. There's things I need to do."

"Like what?"

"I wanted to spend some time with Thom, and there's paperwork that needs to be done for Trebond, and raiding parties coming down from Scanra that I should be dealing with personally, and…"

"And ogres to battle, nobles to be chastened and pigs to be trained to fly?" the man finished for her. "Thom is here right now and going nowhere, you hate paperwork; George can do it equally well if not more competently than you can, and there are perfectly accomplished knights already dealing with everything that needs to be dealt with. You have nothing better to do right now. You'll say yes sooner or later, and I'm starting to get the feeling that you're only disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing. Why not just give in gracefully for once and save face? Three months, that's all." From the tone of his voice, it was clear he considered the matter already resolved. The sound of his opponent starting another tirade of oppositions was halted by the calm tones of a second woman, sounding amused.

"Maybe someone could fill me in on what's going on here?"

"Of course, Buri. This is Riane Kinswood, the Shang Hound. He's hoping we, or rather Alanna, can help him in the matter of a certain young stray currently in his care."

"The girl outside? I wondered about her – far too quiet to be one of my lot. But I thought the Shang handled their own problems – why bring her here?

Riane cleared his throat. Mentally, she pictured his slightly shamefaced look. "I'm afraid Ilaria is slightly different. Her particular problem the Shang will not handle, which is why I've been forced to bring her here. You see, Ilaria is Gifted."

"And so they have thrown her out, and expect me to pick up the pieces," the woman she had begun to recognise as Alanna added angrily. "You make such a show of accepting people of all races and all classes, yet you discriminate against her for something equally outside her control. The Gift is just that – a gift, not a problem."

Riane ignored her outrage. "Possibly, but we have our reasons. I believe that you are considered one of the foremost experts on our culture outside of the order itself, so you should be entirely aware of them. We believe…"

Ilaria stopped listening, she had heard this too many times on the way here. Riane's repeated justification had made the verdict no easier to bear, and only inspired new loathing of a part of her she had no means of changing. The outcome of their debate seemed a foregone conclusion anyway. The man, the one with the calm, imperious voice was going to win. Here she was and here she would stay, whether Alanna liked it or not. Her eyes widened as her mind suddenly kicked in and realised who she must be. Alanna the Lioness!

The name was a familiar one. Legends of the fabled King's Champion travelled as far as those who spoke the common tongue, further in many places. Strange, that she should have had to struggle so hard to achieve her dream because those in power believed that because she was a woman, she shouldn't. And now she herself was in a similar situation, only this time the issue was not her gender. At least Alanna had managed to receive her shield before she was discovered, and been allowed to keep it. For Ilaria there would be no such chance.

And now it is in Alanna's hands that I am to be placed. The gods have a strange sense of humour.

What would it be like, she wondered? From what she had heard so far, rumours of the Lioness's temper were not unfounded. The contrast to even-tempered, patient Riane could not be more absolute, or more unwelcome. Her right ankle throbbed painfully; reminding her that after long hours in the saddle her body was tired and would like to rest. For a moment, she considered relaxing her rigid posture in the chair she had been given and sitting more comfortably. Just a moment though – Shang didn't give in, she reminded herself. She was Shang, to the bone. No giving in.

The argument inside appeared to be coming to an end. Grudgingly the woman gave up ground, while still trying to find excuses.

"I'm agreeing to nothing until I know more about her. The gods know Nealan was enough to tire my bones. What's her history?"

Riane responded formally, and wearily. From his tone, she got the impression he had recited the same information several times before. "Ilaria was chosen to receive training by us at the age of three, and has been in our guardianship ever since. She is not, perhaps, exceptional, but she displays a natural affinity for combat and even if she lacks the integral strength and force needed to rise to the highest ranks, I would have expected her to do well. Physically, I would think she could just about pass her final tests and be Named now. It is mentally that she needs to mature, as do all pupils of her age. I have been her teacher for nearly six years now, but I have always suspected there was a small part of her that was not entirely committed to us and, until that was rectified, I would not have allowed her to progress. Now that is not an option I will need to consider. I was hoping that you could continue her teaching. She doesn't yet understand that it is not enough to have ability; you must be still inside to achieve precision and control on the out."

There was a pause. "There's very little I can teach her about fighting, Riane."

"You don't need to. Teach her to adapt, and cope with your world. Teach her mind – that we have not done."

Another pause, presumably as the Lioness ran out of arguments. Then a sigh, admitting defeat. "Bring her in."

Ilaria let the door gently swing the last inch or so shut at the sound of footsteps. Riane beckoned her in, but halted her for a moment with a hand on her shoulder. "Eavesdropping is a bad habit," he rebuked her in a murmur too low for the others to catch.

"Educational though," she retorted, not for one moment believing in the reprimand. "So how much of that was I supposed to hear?"

He grinned. "Alright, so you know me at least as well as I know you. Try to take heed okay? Don't make me ashamed of you."

"Because being officially rejected by everyone I ever wanted to be isn't bad enough?" she asked him flatly, dispelling his attempts at normalcy. There was hurt in his eyes for a moment before he released her for inspection by the others.

"I have never been ashamed of you Ilaria. Disappointed maybe, but never ashamed," he said quietly to the back of her head.

The King's Champion looked her over with interest, earlier irritation miraculously vanished. Even though she had heard tales of her, the first sight of the flame-haired, violet-eyed Lady Knight was a shock. She wasn't as tall as she'd expected but sheer force of personality seemed to lend her added height so that, although in inches they were roughly the same, Ilaria felt overshadowed. "So you're to be my new charge," she stated dryly. "How old are you girl?"

"I don't know." The question had never come up before – ability, rather than age, had always been considered more important. Just how different her culture really was from this one began to strike home with a vengeance, reminding her loudly that she had no more place here than anywhere else, no matter what hopes Riane may have cherished.

"You don't...?" Alanna exclaimed loudly. At Ilaria's nervous half step backward she subsided with a flippant wave of her hand. "Stand still, I won't bite."

"She's nearly sixteen," Riane supplied

"Old enough then," said Alanna thoughtfully, with a meaningful glance at the raven-haired woman watching them calmly. She raised one dark eyebrow questioningly.

"Riders?"

The fourth occupant of the room, a very handsome man with vividly blue eyes framed by black hair, nodded at her thoughtfully. "Can you ride a horse? Read and write?"

"I can ride any horse you'd care me to sir," she said more confidently, "But the others – no."

"Maybe not then," he smiled dazzlingly. "Nice try Alanna, but it won't work."

The look she gave him flashed fire. "We'll have to teach you then," she said briskly, beginning to fire information without a pause in between to breathe. "Are you a quick learner? Wait don't answer that – they wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't bright. Here's the deal – I have a temper, but do as you're told and we won't have any problems. I'll get you a room by mine and you can take study-classes with the pages, but apart from that you're answerable to me. My name as you must have guessed while listening through the door is Alanna, this is Buri – she commands the Queen's Riders – and the gentleman smirking over in the corner is King Jonathan. You'll meet them properly later. Any questions?"

"No." Should she bow to the King now, she wondered, or was it too late?

"I should go…" Riane. Trying to get away quietly now whilst she was still acquiescent. The feeling of total isolation increased, and it was without a smile that she gave him a brief "Goodbye". He looked at her with understanding. "I know this isn't what you wanted, but please give it a chance."

It didn't take long for her to repent; punishing him had gone far enough, and she didn't want him to leave thinking it was him she was angry with. With an effort, she conjured him a smile. She was rewarded with a flash of his normally ever-present grin, and some rather undignified ruffling of her smooth black hair. "See you soon butterfly."

Alanna's brows raised in amusement. "Butterfly?"

"Wait till you see her dance."