The next thing she heard was Tambrial's cheerful voice. "G'morning, my lady," she said, throwing open the drapes. She caught sight of Emelye at the desk, sitting up stiffly. "Oh, my lady! Did you sleep there all night?"

"I guess I did," Emelye mumbled.

"Well, you'll want to get up soon," Tambrial said. "Lady Sibyl and Princess Ramona should be here-"

"My dear girl!" Lady Sibyl cooed. "Have you awakened?"

"I think so," Emelye said, wiping a string of spit from her cheek.

Princess Ramona pretended not to notice. "Emmalina, there are so many things that we have to do today," she said.

She was still smarting from the comments she'd eavesdropped on the night before. "What kind of things?" she asked warily.

"I've taken the liberty of drawing up an agenda for you," Lady Sibyl said. She pulled out what looked like a single sheet of parchment. Emelye let out of a sigh of relief. And then Lady Sibyl let the rest of the pages unfold until they reached the floor. "You're already running a bit behind for your dress fitting at nine-thirty. We can't take too much time there; you'll be late for your riding lesson."

"Riding lesson?" Emelye gulped. "As in horse riding lesson?"

It could have been the early morning sun, but she was almost sure she saw a dark shine in Ramona's eyes. "Of course," she said. "You shan't be riding a goat, my dear."

"Do you object?" Lady Sibyl asked innocently.

Emelye rubbed her nose. "Of course not, Lady Sibyl," she said, forcing her tone to be as cool and even as theirs.

"Good," Ramona said. She clapped her hands. "It's time for your dress fitting."

"What do you mean by that?" Emelye asked. Tambrial held the door open for two surfaced women and three footmen who were loaded down with bolts of fabric.

"Your clothes may be suitable for Applecask-"

"Ciderbarrel."

"-but not here in the royal palace," Lady Sibyl said. "Emmalina, this is Brunhilda and Hildegarde. They'll be fitting you for your gowns."

"Oh," Emelye said. Hildegarde and Brunhilda gave her a strict onceover. She shifted from one foot to another, feeling naked under their scathing looks.

"Not pretty girl," Hildegarde summed up.

"Well, see what you can do to make her...at least presentable," Ramona shrugged. The dressmakers began measuring Emelye, jerking her arms and torso into impossible, uncomfortable contortions. Ramona folded her arms and stared at Emelye. "Her hair is a mess. It might be a nice color...if it was clean. A pale brown, I think. Eyes...hm. They're the color of a landscape artist's cleaning water. What color do you think that is? Gray, I think"

"She's positively snub-nosed. Her lips would be nice if they were a little larger..." Lady Sibyl tapped her chin. "And is that a scar on her face? I do believe that is a scar."

Emelye was rubbing her nose furiously. "I was in an accident when I was little," she said, her voice as icy as she could make it.

Ramona took her by the wrist. "Do stop rubbing your nose. It makes you look like a rabbit during hay season," she said. The princess turned to the dressmakers. "You'll have your work cut out for you. I'd say to use the most fashionable patterns and colors you have. With any luck, they'll focus on the dress rather than you." She smiled at Emelye. "Don't worry, dear. Soon you'll be able to go out in public with your head held high."

From far away bells sounded. Lady Sibyl cocked an ear. "My heavens, it's time for your riding lesson already," she said. "Come with us, my dear. We'll take you down to the stables."

"Should I change?" Emelye asked, stalling. Well, she was wearing her best dress, after all.

"No," Ramona said. "That old thing is perfect for your lesson." The princess and her grandmother made their way down the hall, Emelye traipsing at their heels. Wherever they went, soldiers, servants, and courtiers bowed or curtsied. She wasn't quite sure what to do in response, so she settled with a deep nod to each one. Her neck was beginning to ache when the royal women noticed her.

"Dear child, there is no need to bow to the help," Lady Sibyl said, horrified. "You need only to acknowledge them slightly."

"There's no use in trying, Grandmother," Emelye heard Ramona whisper in her grandmother's ear. Emelye's cheeks burned.

The palace stables were spacious and airy. The massive barn was lined with rows of stalls, each one containing a huge horse. Emelye smoothed her damp palms along her wrinkled skirt.

"Why, Leverett!" Ramona exclaimed. "What are you doing out here?"

Emelye felt a wave of relief wash over her. At last, someone familiar. She didn't care who it was, as long as their face was at least vaguely reassuring.

"I was just at the mews, Mona," Leverett shrugged.

"You spend too much time there," Lady Sibyl said. "Run along and study."

Leverett shrugged again and disappeared without a word to Emelye. She blinked in surprise. "What are mews?" she asked.

"A lady needn't concern herself with such things," Ramona said. She turned to a soldier standing at attention at the stable door. "Where is the first stableboy?"

"Tending to the king's steed," the soldier said, staring straight ahead without eye contact with the princess. "Shall I send for him?"

"Yes," Ramona said. The soldier bowed and entered the barn, "Emmalina, you'll be learning from the first stableboy. The stablemasters can't be spared- a great deal of business to attend to. I'm sure you understand."

The soldier returned and saluted. "The first stableboy, your Highness," he announced.

A young man with dark brown hair and gentle green eyes followed the soldier, wiping his hands on a leather apron he wore around his waist. "Good morning to you, your highness, your majesty," he bowed. "What can I do for you?"

"Teach this young lady to ride," Ramona said. "We'll return for her in time for the noon meal."

"As you wish, your highness," the stableboy said, bowing again. Ramona and Lady Sibyl left, leaving Emelye alone with a strange boy and a stable full of horses. The strange boy turned to her. "Liam Dathel at your service, my lady," he said.

"I'm Emelye, and please don't call me your lady. It only makes things worse," Emelye blurted out.
"You're not nervous, are you?" Liam asked, smiling down at her. He looked no older than she was, but he was much taller.

"I hate horses," she confessed.

"Well, there's nothing for you to fear, Miss Emelye," Liam said. "Come with me." He led her down the aisle of stalls. Emelye quickened her pace to walk close beside him. The stall doors didn't seem very sturdy. What would happen if one of the horses decided to break down the door-

"This is Poppy," Liam said, breaking into her thoughts. Emelye stared up at the largest horse she had ever seen. Liam petted the mare's deep chestnut-red mane. "She's a dear old thing. Gentle as a kitten." He fished in his pocket for a half of a carrot and held it out in his open palm. Poppy scrabbled at it eagerly, showing off a mouthful of large teeth. Emelye backed up.

"I'd much rather prefer a kitten," she blurted out.

"She's quite gentle, Miss Emelye," Liam said. "Here. Feed her a carrot."

"What if she bites me?" Emelye asked. But she held out her hand tentatively.

Liam placed the carrot in her palm and curved his strong fingers around her wrist. "If Poppy even so much as nibbles your finger, I'll pull your hand away," he promised.

Liam's hand was strong on her wrist. Emelye closed her eyes tightly as the horse's big mouth came closer and closer. She waited for her fingers to suddenly be bitten in half.

But instead, all she felt was a huff of breath and a tickle of dull teeth brush against her palm. Emelye cracked open one eye.

"My hand is still here!" she exclaimed.

Liam laughed at her surprise. "Of course it is," he said. He let go of her wrist. "I'm going to bring Poppy out of her stall."

Emelye backed up against the far wall. "She's going to charge me!" she wailed. Something hot breathed on her neck, and she looked up to see an even bigger horse poking his head over his stall door, eyeing her in curiosity. Emelye squeaked and fled to the center of the aisle.

"Are you that scared, Miss Emelye?" Liam asked. She nodded. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I've been riding since I was tiny, and I've a good hand with them." He took Emelye's hand, smiling at her. "Come stand behind me while I bring Poppy out. She won't harm you." Emelye peeked over Liam's shoulder as he opened the stall door, clipped a rein to Poppy's halter, and led her out one-handed. "Poppy's an old girl, but a good one." The horse wuffed and nudged Liam's shoulder. "Come on, pet her, Miss Emelye."

"There is no way on earth," Emelye said. "No way at all!" But she'd forgotten Liam was still holding her hand. He curved her fingers around a currycomb and guided her hand over Poppy's back. The horse stamped her foot in approval of the gentle strokes.

"See? It's not near as bad as you thought," he smiled. Emelye smiled back at him and relaxed, letting Liam guide her hand over Poppy's glossy coat. She didn't know how long it was before Liam let go. "I think Poppy likes you," he said. As if to prove his point, the horse turned her big head and gave Emelye's shoulder a hard but affectionate nudge. Emelye fell back a step or two and laughed. "Do you think you're ready to try sitting on her back?" he asked.

Emelye sighed and twisted her fingers together. "I'll- I'll try," she finally said.

Liam pulled out a blanket and sidesaddle from the tack room and tossed the gear over Poppy's back. He buckled on the saddle, replaced the halter with a bridle, and clipped on the reins. "A lady always has one of the stablehands take care of the tack, so there's no reason for you to learn," Liam explained. "If you'll come with me to the track, Miss Emelye, I'll help you mount."
Emelye followed him, blinking in a sudden rush of sunlight. Liam stopped Poppy in front of a small flight of three steps that led nowhere. "This is the mounting block," he said. "If you'll step up here and put your foot in the stirrup, I can help you up." Liam's hands braced her as she mounted. Emelye scrambled to grab the pommel of the saddle, struggling against the sudden wave of vertigo that washed over her. "There you are, Miss Emelye," Liam said. "You're taking to this quickly."

"When can I get down?" she asked, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the pommel.

"Do you think you can make one circle around the track?" Liam asked.

She shook her head hard. "I want to get off now," Emelye insisted.

"But Miss Emelye-" he protested.

"Liam, I've been sent for Miss Emelye," a voice said. It sounded familiar, but Emelye was too panicked to place it.

"Yes, your highness," Liam said. He helped Emelye dismount. "I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Emelye," he smiled. Emelye murmured a dizzy thanks and stumbled towards the gate.

"You look terrible," Leverett commented.

Emelye cracked open one eye and glared at him blearily. "You would look like this too, if you had to ride an evil creature like that," she said.

Leverett shrugged and kicked at a rock as they walked back towards the palace. "I'm not afraid of horses," he said.

Emelye rolled her eyes. "You're afraid of something, aren't you?" she said.

"No," Leverett said.

She stopped in her tracks and poked him in the chest. "You're lying through your teeth," Emelye accused. "You've got to be afraid of something. Everybody is. So what is it?"

He blinked. "Maybe I'm afraid of something," Leverett stammered.

"Well?" Emelye prodded. "What is it?"

"I-" he started to say.

"Emmalina!" Princess Ramona called. "Do hurry!" She caught sight of her younger brother and scowled. "Leverett, run along. We're busy."

"Yes, Mona," Leverett sighed. He thrust his hands in his pockets and strode away.

Ramona took Emelye by the shoulders and steered her upstairs via the back staircase. "It's going to take some doing to chisel the dirt off of you," she sighed. She propelled the girl into the bathroom, shoved her in, and slammed the door.

Emelye blinked. "That was strange," she commented to herself. "Does she think I hate baths or something?" She undressed, dumped her clothes on the floor, and sank into the hot perfumed bathwater. Emelye closed her eyes. When the water began to cool, she forced herself to stop relaxing and use the soap. The water was practically icy when she got out and grabbed one of the thick towels. She reached for the clothes she'd dropped on the floor- and realized they were gone.

"Where are my clothes?" Emelye hollered.

Tambrial entered the bathroom. "Did you call, Miss Emelye?" she inquired politely.

"What happened to my clothes?" Emelye repeated, clutching her towel around her.

"Oh, I have new ones for you," Tambrial said. "Here they are, milady. You'd best hurry. The noon meal will be served in a few minutes."

"Oh, all right," Emelye sighed. "Give them to me. I'll put them on."

Five and a half minutes later Emelye entered the dining room. Her still damp hair was drawn back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck, and her new dress, a bright lavender frock with far too many ruffles for her taste, was wrinkled, but she was there.

Lady Sibyl shot her a dirty look. "Miss, you're late," she said.

"I'm sorry, your highness," she said. "I got a little lost."

Lady Sibyl sniffed, but waved her hand in forgiveness. "At least you look presentable," she said.
Leverett careened into the dining hall. "I'm sorry I was late, I-" He stopped dead in his tracks. "Might I ask who this is?" he asked.

"Have you already forgotten what Miss Emelye looks like?" Keefer asked him.

"That's Emelye?" Leverett choked.

"Of course it is, half-wit," Emelye scowled.

"Oh, it is her, after all," Leverett said taking his seat next to Emelye. She stomped on his instep. "Ow!"

"What was that, Leverett?" Malicent asked.

"Nothing, Mother," Leverett said, glaring at Emelye out of the corner of his eye. She smiled prettily as the servants came around with the first trays of food.

"What have you been doing today, Mona?" Gaurav asked his daughter.

"I've been sketching plans for my trousseau, Father," Ramona said. "To prepare for my wedding."

"Are you using the green brocade?" Malicent asked.

"Oh, Mother, you know that green makes me look like an absolute crocodile," Ramona sighed. "I decided on the pale yellow silk instead."

"Well, it's your trousseau, not mine, dear," Malicent said. "Do as you please."

Emelye poked at the food on her plate. She couldn't quite tell what she was eating under all that sauce.

"And what about you two?" Lady Sibyl asked her twin grandsons. "Have you been keeping out of trouble?"

"We've been taking Jeanie and Julie- I mean, we've been taking the Misses Schmeadling on a tour of the palace," Keefer said. Jeanetta and Julietta giggled, their deep dimples flashing as they shot meaningful glances at their respective princes.

"Keefe, Cal," Gaurav said. "Be sure to be polite. You didn't show them the knight's training hall, did you?"

"Oh, they did," Jeanetta sighed. She took a bite. "They certainly did."

"You two," Malicent said. Her voice was slightly teasing. "Keefe, didn't we teach you and Cal anything about how to treat a lady?" She turned to the pretty blondes. "I apologize for my sons."

"It's quite all right, your Majesty," Julietta said. "Cal- I mean, Prince Calix was very kind."

"What did you do today, Leverett?" Gaurav asked. Emelye, still prodding her lunch, couldn't help but notice that he didn't have a nickname.

"Oh, not much," he mumbled.

"He was down by the mews again, Father," Ramona reported. Leverett pulled a face at her.

"Oh, Leverett," Malicent said. "Again? We've told you time and time again that you spend too much time with those birds. You need to concentrate on your studies." Leverett shoveled a huge bite into his mouth and mumbled a "yes, ma'am," his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

Lady Sibyl noticed that Emelye was still picking through her food. "What in the heavens are you doing, child?" she asked.

"I hate to be rude, but...what kind of food is this?" Emelye asked.

"Kid marinated in lemon and thyme," Malicent said. "It's one of our specialties here at the palace."

"When you say kid, you...you mean goat, don't you?" Emelye gulped.

"Of course," Ramona said. "Don't you know anything?"

"I'm so glad I didn't eat any of it," Emelye sighed. "Oh! I didn't mean any disrespect. It's just that...I don't eat goat of any kind. I'll eat almost meat you throw at me, just please, no goat."

"Well!" Sibyl huffed. "Now that we have your opinion on the matter, we'll never be able to serve this again."

Emelye stood up. "I'm sorry if I offended anyone, but I happen to be good friends with a goat. It's just a matter of principle," she said. She left the room and strode back up to her bedroom.
"Sully, are you in here?" she called.

"What do you want?" he asked, too lazy to even lift his head off of her pillow.

Emelye flopped down on the bed. "I just wanted to make sure you were still in one piece," she sighed, burying her fingers in Sully's thick white fur. "This is harder than it looks, Sully."

The goat rolled over on his back. "Ooh, scratch my stomach, please," he begged. Emelye obeyed. "Oh, that's quite nice. Anyway...you were saying?"

"I want to go home," Emelye confessed. "I don't like it here. I don't fit in."

"Oh, everyone has a place where they don't fit in," Sully said. "Take me for example. I have to spend the night in the barnyard. That's a place where I don't fit in."

"But you're a goat. Aren't all goats similar?" Emelye asked.

"You're a human. Aren't all humans similar?" Sully countered.

"I get your point," she sighed. "I just wish they'd let me speak to the king. I have so much research gathered. I'm pretty sure of what I can do."

"Just be patient," Sully counseled. "And in the meantime, keep scratching my belly."

"You're as spoiled as a royal lapdog," Emelye said, rolling her eyes.

A knock on the door startled her. Sully yelped as her fingernails brushed a little too close to his tender skin. "Come in," she said.

"Miss Emelye, you're wanted by Lady Sibyl and Princess Ramona in the drawing room," Tambrial said. "Shall I show you the way?"

"If you don't mind," Emelye said. "I'm forever getting lost."

"I don't mind," Tambrial said. "I'm here to serve you, Miss Emelye."

"Don't you ever get bored?" Emelye asked.

Tambrial shrugged. "It's a living," she said.

"Don't you have parents, or sisters, or-"

"Here's the drawing room, Miss Emelye," Tambrial said. "Lady Sibyl and Princess Ramona are waiting for you." She held open the door.

"But you didn't answer my-" The door closed. "-question."

Author's Note: Black Rose Girl, you ROCK!! BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ONE AND ONLY PERSON TO REVIEW THE LAST CHAPTER!!! YOU ARE MY NEW BEST FRIEND!!!

Anyway...

Yeah. More to come...

Please review!!

And if you'd like to see what Emelye and Leverett look like, it pleases me to announce that I have several little doodles of them available on my DeviantArt account!! It's Please review those as well!!

--greedy for reviews--

PS: Liam Dathel got his name from...Liam Diethyl!! Father of Lyserg Diethyl!! Yay, Shaman King!!!