Chapter One - Moving On

Gary's endless declarations that Cythera wasn't like ordinary girls seemed to be true in at least one respect. She did not 'come around' as he had anticipated. Oh, she was nice and polite enough if he forced a conversation, but there was always a certain reservation about her that was not present when she spoke to any other of his friends.

"She hates me. She must do."

By now, they were all used to his abandoning whatever was going on around him and blurting out precisely what was bothering him about Cythera at that moment. Alan, the only one currently present, rolled his eyes and finished his bread roll. "She doesn't know you," he said with unusual patience.

"She doesn't want to know me," Gary replied glumly, picking apart his own roll.

"Maybe you shouldn't presume to know what she's thinking," Alan suggested. "I would hate it if - if anyone did that to me."

"You aren't a woman, though, and you have no experience with them."

Alan's cheeks were red and his voice strangely high as he asked, "How are you so sure of that?"

Gary, who had been slumped over the table, his chin resting in his hands, suddenly sat up straight, eyeing Alan with new interest. "What's this? Squire Alan, Court Skulker and Avoider of Women Extraordinaire, has snared somebody? Who is she?"

Now he had managed to take his mind off Cythera, Gary did notice some changes in his friend. He was less sharp and had been, up until now, smiling at nothing. Gary had dismissed the changes he had spotted as being pride at turning another year older the previous day, knowing full well how Alan disliked being the youngest. But when he thought of it, he couldn't remember having seen Alan at all at the ball last night. They had all been distracted by Jon blowing up at Delia and retiring to bed early and alone. This behaviour was uncharacteristic of both his friends.

Jon appeared at Gary's elbow before the latter was able to interrogate Alan further, almost as if summoned by Gary's thoughts of him.

"Our Alan has lost his flower of innocence," Gary informed Jon as he slipped into the seat next to Alan.

Both of Jon's eyebrows shot upward and he turned to Alan expectantly. The younger boy simply flushed again and squirmed in his seat.

"Was it good?" Jon enquired with a smirk. From the sound of a thump under the table and the way the older of the two's expression contorted with pain, Gary deduced he had been the recipient of a swift kick. This was not wholly unexpected - Alan liked his privacy, and he didn't like to talk about the girls he found attractive. Until today, he had been the source of many rumours involving most farmyard animals and some farmyard boys.

"That is not a nice way to treat your overlord, squire!"

"Well, it serves my overlord right," Alan replied tartly, rising from the table. "I'm going to look for Faithful; I haven't seen him since last night."

Jon watched the stocky boy leave the room before returning his attention to Gary. "What did he tell you?"

"Don't you know?" Gary asked with an air of surprise. "Don't tell me what they say about Contés and their squires isn't true!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes and waited expectantly. He didn't have to wait long; Gary was eager to speculate on the identity of Alan's conquest.

"He just said that I shouldn't presume he hadn't slept with anyone. Have you seen him pay extra attention to anyone?"

Jon shrugged. "Not particularly. Unless..." He shot Gary a devious look. "Well, the Lady Cythera..."

With a superhuman effort, Gary ignored his cousin and snapped his fingers. "Delia! He's always talking about her, maybe he's trying to cover up his true feelings? And after you at th-" He fell abruptly silent. This was not because the withering look from Jon had had its desired effect, but because Geoffrey had sunk into Alan's vacated seat, looking as though he'd been asked to partner Wyldon of Cavall to every ball for the rest of his life.

Jon and Gary exchanged worried looks. Whilst Geoffrey, unlike Alan, usually stayed with his own yearmates, he was well-liked throughout the palace.

"What's wrong, Geoffrey?" Jon asked, his concern evident even through his mouthful of breakfast.

"Father's remarrying," Geoffrey said dully, propping his chin up with his hands.

Gary pushed aside his empty plate. "Sorry, Geoffrey, that must be difficult for-"

"Roxanne of Elden. He's marrying Roxanne of Elden. I got the letter this morning."

This time, the cousins were doing their very best not to look at each other. Suddenly escape became imperative. Jon muttered congratulations and excuses; Gary could not.

"He needs an escape route whilst there's still time," Gary gasped when he had managed to stop laughing. "I know Lord Martin lives in Persopolis, but if it were my father, I'd be half-way to Scanra by now, complete with blond wig."

"I suggest you thank Mithros for small mercies," Jonathan advised. "And you might want to add more thanks for the boon of sane women, because there's Cythera."

Gary gulped nervously and surreptitiously wiped his sweating palms on his breeches before walking (although wobbling might give a more accurate depiction) over to her.

"Ah, uh, good day to you, Lady Cythera. I hear congratulations are in order for your sister."

Cythera inclined her head in acknowledgment, though her eyebrows had drawn together. "Thank you, Sir Gareth. That is most kind of you. Did you want me to pass the congratulations on?"

"If it pleases my lady," he answered, wincing inwardly at the thought of even second-hand communication with Roxanne.

Cythera suddenly smiled at him, and he felt as though his knees might collapse. "Yes, I think she'd like to hear that you have moved on as well. Good day to you, Sir Gareth, your Highness," she added as Jon joined them. She dropped them a curtsy before continuing on her way.

Gary stared after her, his mouth opening and shutting in a fair impression of a fish, though Jon - exercising the kind of diplomacy that would make him a great king - thought it better not to tell him. "Moved on?" he said, his voice cracking slightly. "From Roxanne?"

"Maybe she means moved on as in no longer wanting to kill her? I wouldn't worry about it," Jonathan advised in his infinite wisdom.