Chapter 1:
I look away from her, already annoyed after a mere five minutes in her company. Why, precisely I was dating her was much beyond me. Then I look over my shoulder and see our mothers smiling brightly at us and I remember why. Our mothers grew up as best friends as they'd lived at neighboring fiefs, and when they discovered they had two children roughly the same age, they dreamed we'd marry. I, of course, protested vehemently, but my mother decided that as long as I was courting no one else, it wouldn't kill me, then threatened to betroth me to her if I didn't try it out at least.
I agreed willingly, and had asked her to dance with a smile that more closely resembled a grimace. It still counted, however, and she seemed thrilled, and I've been courting the silly bint ever since.
I pull myself from my nightmares and glance around the room. My eyes linger on the corners, where I know she'll be, and sure enough, there she is in the corner, nursing a glass and staring blankly at the table. I grin and move to join her when I feel a not-so-gentle tug on the thick cotton of my tunic. I look down into the face of my would-be beau, the lady Nimair of Tirrsmant. Nothing stirs in me as I take in her golden ringlets and bright green eyes, the plush pink lips glistening with her lip stain, pouting in what I'm sure she assumes is a very seductive fashion. My mother says all the time that she'll grow on me; yes, she has, but in a most parasitical fashion that I could never find attractive. She rather…bores me actually; all she ever talked about was balls, and dresses, and shopping in the city, and her friends. It's so…meaningless, and got tiresome after a while. I miss being around my friends, and thanks to her, and their own ladies, of course, I never am able to anymore.
"I see a friend that I wish to go speak to," I explain to her, though my eyes return to the woman seated in the corner. She sticks out her lower lip further when she sees she doesn't have my complete attention.
"If you must. But I shall come along, for I will be desolate without you."
Instead of rolling my eyes at her foolishness as I so desperately wish to, I give her a charming smile and put out an arm for her to take.
We move towards her, and I watch interestedly as she twirls her cider around in the long-stemmed glass, clearly bored. I peer around, wondering why she has no one with her, and it takes me but a moment to find Neal, Owen, and even Lord Raoul all out on the dance floor. I shake my head, wondering why they would leave her alone so rudely, all of them abandoning her, leaving her to see herself through the foolish duty all knights face, playing monkey at the Midwinter balls. I watch as she glances so anxiously for the door, perhaps wondering how long she must wait 'til making good her escape, but her face turns down in disappointment as she clearly decides that no, she couldn't do so yet. Her pathetically dull hazel eyes turn then to the dance floor in dejection, and as she does they stumble over Nee and I. Her face freezes as she takes in Nee, then a smile lights her face, belying her own intentions I think, as her gaze finally rests on me.
"Hey, Seaver. Lady Nimair." She bows awkwardly from her seat to the woman clinging to my arm, and I stifle a laugh.
"Hello, Kel." I grin back at her. "You bored?" I question, though the answer is indeed obvious. A way to make conversation, I suppose as I pull out a chair and press Nee into it, taking the one between the two of them, carefully inching it closer to my fellow knight.
"Terribly so. Everyone is dancing." She pretends to pout, managing to mimic perfectly the self-centered expressions of a court lady, particularly the one by my side, startling a laugh from me. Nimair's smile remains frozen on her face, but a frown mars her forehead.
"You are Keladry, the second lady knight?" she asks suddenly, and finally the smile falls off, and she purses her lips instead. Obviously, she hadn't heard the 'Kel.'
"Yes, I am." She bows again to the lady, and rolls her eyes to me, a gesture that Nimair luckily didn't catch. I smile a bit.
"I didn't recognize you with the dress." Her voice is biting, and Kel straightens in her chair, pulling on the mask that's been absent, in my presence at least, for so long. "Might I ask how you know Sir Seaver?"
"Yes, of course," she responds, obviously wary of the other woman. She has too many angry court ladies on her back as it is. "We were pages of the same year, and have been friends since we first started training." I smile softly at the memories that rush in with that, and lace my fingers as I watch the conversation progress.
"Of course." Nee taps her mouth, a dark ruddy red, with a perfectly manicured finger. "I heard a rumor that you and Sir Nealan of Queenscove used to be lovers."
Kel gapes, her generally tight control of her emotions slipping for merely a moment before she quickly regains it, even more stiffly than before. I silently send her an apology, furious myself at the daring of Nee. She had no right to bring up such brutal rumors and gossip! They'd never even met, for Mithros' sake.
I'm even more furious with myself for putting Kel in a position where she'll be even more maligned by the conservatives, something she already gets enough, and curse myself for my stupidity.
"I am sorry to say that that particular rumor was, of course, a lie. Neal and I have always been best friends. We have never had feelings for one another beyond friendship." She pauses for a moment, and I know the lie in that statement, but its kept from her face even from me as she continues with the smallest upturn of lips that had it been anyone else, I would have called a smirk, "Isn't it funny, though, how petty court gossips can be, how utterly stupid they appear when their rumors hold no grain of truth? Honestly, their obsession with intrigue shows how little class they have, and how much time they have on their hands, lazing about the palace."
Nee pauses, attempting to figure out, I'm sure, the insult just paid to her, before giving a snooty shrug of her shoulders. "Of course. I have heard that you and his cousin, Domitian of Masbolle, were courting for sometime." Despite her incomprehension of the meaning behind the insult, she obviously recognizes it for what it was, and strikes at the sorest spot she can find in Kel's near perfect armor. How unfortunate for us knights, that every chain mail suit has its weak points.
A chilly expression overtakes her face, and I repress a shiver, unused to such from one who is generally so warm. "I do not believe, milady, that my personal life is any of your, or anyone else's for that matter, business."
"So you were not-" I place a hand at her arm, wishing instead that it was her neck that I gripped, a neck that I wouldn't be half so delicate with as I was currently forced into being. She peers up at me through long lashes, and for once I feel a stirring in my stomach, easily recognizing it for what it is—sheer and utter loathing.
I'm furious, and I know that it shows on my face, but can't bring myself to care as I bite out, "Lady Nimair, I believe that this has gone on long enough. I will not have you insulting my friends. Your callous behavior is astounding; a peasant shows better manners to the knights—and lady knights—that protect them, much more respect than you seem to be capable of."
She flutters her eyes. "Oh, I did not mean it to insult at all, my lord! Of course, I have the deepest respect for the men that fight for our wonderful country. I was merely curious!"
About to reply, I'm cut off from a head shake from Kel, telling me firmly with her gaze that I am not to continue this. I sigh. Of course she wouldn't want me to draw it out further, just as she always had conniption fits when we got into her fights over her honor as pages. This one wouldn't even involve the rebuilding of the stables.
Still, I give in to her wishes, at least for the moment. I have every intention of returning to the point when Kel isn't around to hear. I didn't want Nimiar insulting her; I love her too much to allow something from one so beneath her as Nimiar. From anyone, really. But then again, I don't think anyone was quite as amazing as she. No one quite compared.
I shake my head, and to distract myself, from both present thoughts and my lingering anger, turn my back on Nimiar and begin to discuss war tactics with the knight—trying to think of her as every other knight, as Neal or Owen or someone else I was most certainly not in love with—at my side.
"I think that Scanra-" I'm interrupted by a light, irritatingly consistent tap on my arm.
Lady Nimiar once again has her lips pushed out in a pout towards me. "My lord, we are at a ball. Isn't the point of a ball to dance?" she wonders, opening her eyes as wide as she probably could manage—looking, to me at least, like they are about to pop out— and staring up at me.
I smile slightly, and laugh internally— somewhat, admittedly, maliciously—as she adopts a rather smug grin that says she thinks she has gotten her way, managing to distract me from Kel, to take me away from the threat of the Lady Knight, despite her not thinking of her a threat at all in a basic sense. From the corner of my eye, I note Kel's soundless sigh of disappointment, I'm sure at the thought of being abandoned once more, and I feel a bit better about my plan.
"Yes of course my dear, how remiss of me." I turn back to Kel, unable to hold back my grin, and since I'm no longer facing Nee, it doesn't matter anyway. "Lady Knight, would you care to dance?"
None of her amusement shows on her face, but humor sparkles in her eyes. I contain my laughter as I couldn't my smile, at least until we're out on the dance floor and I have her safely ensconced in my arms. And then, really, it's not so funny, because it means I get to hold her.
"I can't believe you did that!" She informs me, quickly releasing my neck to punch me, rather lightly, in the arm. I know that if she had really been upset with me, the punch would have been a lot harder, and thus don't take offense at all, just nudge her arm back into position with my own. "That was mean! You are her escort, you know."
"I can't believe I did, either. It was wonderful! I have wanted to do that for a long time. Since practically the moment I started courting her."
Kel, who had somehow managed to hold the laughter off with the last bit of her mask, suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh gods, did you see her face?"
"Yeah." I laugh along with her. "She's probably still back there, frowning with that smile still plastered on her face, stamping her foot and trying to figure out what happened."
We laugh harder, and I, hopefully inconspicuously, tug her closer.
Several dances later, she declares that she's tired and in need of a drink, and we retire back to our table.
The drinks are missing from the table, as is Nimiar. I head for the far reaches of the room to rescue more of the first for both of us, but the second is gladly forgotten about, and I push the blonde from my mind thankfully. My eyes catch her dancing with a man I don't recognize, but my brain makes no real note of it, not caring in the least.
Unfortunately, the song ends just as I'm about to reach Kel once more, and Nimiar returns. I hurry closer as Kel stands, obviously attempting to avoid another conflict. A knight's honor prevents her from insulting a lady, and Kel has her pride to protect I know. She won't want to engage again in such a discussion. "I believe I shall retire, Seaver," she says calmly to me.
I want to argue, want to persuade her to stay, even though I know I shouldn't. I frown, furious that she's been chased off, that my fun has been demolished for the night with her retreat, and demand, "Are you sure?"
She nods her head, and I sigh, knowing that nothing will talk her around, and thoughtlessly offer, "If you want, I can walk you to your rooms?"
Nimiar stiffens beside me, and I realize exactly how stupid that offer was, despite how much I'd like to see it through. I secretly hope she accepts it, knowing that to rescind it afterwards would be unchivalrous. The fact that I'm being unchivalrous to my date matters not.
She shakes her head, and I hold back my sigh of disappointment. "No, of course not. I wouldn't want to take you away from your beautiful lady any longer than I already have. However, you can join me for sword practice in the morning." Her eyes light up at the idea, and I grin in response, knowing that I'm going, in a few short hours, to be beat to a bloody pulp, and that I'll love every minute of it, because she's the one doing it, and if it means being around Kel, it doesn't matter.
I nod in belated reply, silently cursing my thoughts for so often taking flight and her for being so damned attentive when she tilts her head questioningly, peering at me with concerned eyes, but have no chance to add comment as Nimiar quickly cuts into the conversation, voice sugary sweet, reminding me of the nauseating feeling after I've eaten too much spun sugar. "He can't. He's escorting me to the city tomorrow, remember?" She turns to me, smiling, and I curse my mother for what seems like the millionth time.
"Yes, of course I remember, Nee. But that doesn't mean I can't practice with Kel. You most likely won't be up when we do, anyway. She is an early riser. Gets up with the sun." I laugh, peering at the woman that stands stiffly across from me, and she quirks a brow at me, knowing how much I loathe such early morning practices.
Nee smiles thinly. "I believe I should like to watch. Would you be so kind as to send for me when this goes on?"
"I don't think I want you there to witness my defeat, m'dear." I inform her teasingly, though my gaze never leaves Kel. She normally would have thrown her head back and laughed at such a comment, but mixed company restricted her, and she instead only arches the other brow, so both are raised in a comical expression.
"You jest. Of course you will win. She is, after all, only a female. She can't be as strong as a man. And she will tire much more easily."
Kel's face, for the second time this night, goes frightfully blank, I feel my own harden, furious in her defense, in our defense. "Kel was trained by the Crown, and has come out one of the best knights of our year, easily, and other years besides. That you dare such condescension to her is not just an insult to her, which I take seriously enough as it is, but an insult to all of us, including the Crown Prince. If she's such a weakling, what are we, that she defeats us so easily? She has trained most of her life as a warrior, and she doesn't deserve your condemnation because she doesn't waste her time on such frivolous things that you seem to place such value in." I'm left red-faced and panting after my angry tirade, knowing that nothing I've said got through to her brain—if it exists, beneath the piles of golden tresses.
The lady gives a delicate snort, and it's clear that she didn't bother even listening to my words. "I am sure that she can't be as good as a man. You're just too kind, worried about a woman's easily injured feelings, about her often wounded pride. Father always says that women are much weaker than men."
"Of course, Lady Nimiar. And I'm sure you yourself couldn't lift a finger against anyone who attacked you. Kel, however, is strong." I turn my back on her, uncaring of any insult I've delivered, too offended myself to mind any she may have grasped. "Kel, would you be so kind as to bring your glaive to the practice courts tomorrow? I am sure we would all love to see your skill." The request was as much for my sake as it was Nee's; I loved watching her move so smoothly, dancing around, almost gliding on air as she pushed the weapon, weightless in her hands, striking deadly poses. Such a wonderful display of fatal beauty that she rarely let me glimpse.
She frowned at me, and I know she didn't want to offer such a display so publicly, but diplomatically agreed. "Of course. Shall we say on, oh, the sixth bell?" Without bothering to wait for approval, she continues, "Now, I must say good night." I laugh silently to myself, knowing that her expectance of easy agreement with whatever she says a leftover tendency from commanding.
She bows stiffly to Nee, not an inch more than demanded by protocol, and we both ignore the embarrassingly short curtsy that's returned. She smiles at me, and I lean over and gently kiss her cheek. I know that she's fighting down a blush, for her eyes flicker uncertainly; she gives a tentative smile before quickly making her way to the doorway. I watch her quiet departure, not particularly caring that Nimiar is probably glaring at me. I know that my display with Kel will make her work all the harder to attract me, for that seems like all her type of court lady wants, to possess something, to sink their claws into someone until they admit that they belong to the particular lady in question, that yes, she is the victor, every bit as good with her feminine wiles as she seems to believe she is.
And I know that I won't be one more to add to her list, that I won't succumb to her stupid desires. I loathe the very idea of her, wish with everything, now, that I didn't have to court her. But then, I'd have to bring someone else before my mother that I intended to court in her stead. Whimsically, I imagine what it would be like, if Kel was that someone else, if she was mine to hold, to kiss. To love.
Not that I don't love her already.
If only I was brave enough to tell her so, I think bitterly, cursing myself for being so damnably pathetic.
