Disclaimer: None of this is mine. None of the characters are mine unless I make up a few fake ones here and there like Helena. Who really is sort of like a portrait of Delia of Eldorne when you think about it...but anyways, just don't sue me.
Title: Ghost of the Past
Author: winky-wink
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama
Rating: T (Just to be safe)
Pairing: A/J...unless I hear great roars of disapproval.
Musical Affection: 'Si Exceptionnel' by Andree Watters.
(Yup, it's french. Yup, I speak french. Je parle francais.)
Author's Note: okaliedokalie: Haha thanks. I tried to make them sound as lame as possible.
WitchyMage: Aww, thanks. I know. How embarrassing for that guy, whoever it was, and Thom too. And I love how you described Abby, it is so true.
Angel of Dream: Hmm...how do I do it? I have no life...? LOL...joking. Um, I don't know. I'm someone who likes to have her mind challenged constantly so this is a way for it to happen. Well, they did patch her up but I'm not sure if healers can make things like go away completely. Like can they just wave their hands and have the black go normal? Maybe. Maybe not. It could be my mistake. Oo and I'm glad you liked the poems.
charlie and lola: I'm not hundred percent sure how many chapters this story will be. But I'm glad you like it! OO and I also really like A/J too but it's usually so poorly written I've noticed.
Lutefa: OH yeah! I love those moods. I get that after I read a really really good book or watch a really really good movie or, of course, a crush like you.. I'm in that mood right now lol. I totally get what you're feeling. Haha, so are you planning to tell this ex-tea party friend of yours? Do not answer that question if you think I'm intruding LOL...sorry if I seem like I am! Anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter.
Rosemary's Granddaughter: Oh! Your story! I just remembered, I read it. It was very good. I couldn't exactly review it because you don't accept anonymous reviews and I didn't want to make an account that I would hardly use...so yeah, anyways, its got elements of an interesting story...lady knight, check. boy candy, check. princess, check. So yeah, it sounds good lol. And, very nice poem hahaha. LOL...
alana: It really is something he do would when you think about it. Nothing stops him on the pathway to power. And, yes, all that combat boots are part of Alanna's charm.
Yasthira: I have no clue lol. But it's so stupid, it's funny haha.
Confusedknight: Oh cool! Australia...never been there before. But I have been to the U.K. I have like...hundreds of family members there. And, thank you too.
kristina: Thank you. Thank you. I try.
Queen Alanna: Mine too. It's so adorable. No Abby and George aren't an item...and I didn't exactly plan them to be. But who knows? And, lately, she's been seeing him more than Alanna's been seeing him.
epobbp: Haha, yeah so intense!
Kokari: Hehe, yeah well enjoy! Anyways, I chose winky-wink...'cause well I don't really know. I couldn't think of anything then I just thought of the word 'wink' and made it longer I guess. Main reason: I couldn't think of anything at the time.
Unknown reviewer: Hi, thanks. People do notice the difference skill-wise between Alanna and Thom. I'll try to explain that better I guess. Oh and if Roger did try to do the mind reading thing, Thom could block him like Alanna does. Oh, and Roger hasn't given up. His part in this story just got sidetracked. It'll pick up in this chapter.
FanFictionFanthom: Yeah I liked her reaction too lol. And thank you.
Ok, at first I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with this chapter. Then it suddenly came to me. This leaves a great door of oppurtunities for later chapters. Another dangerous Roger plot. Hope you enjoy.
'Rape is the only crime in which the victims become the accused'-Freda Adler
Jon laughed and it almost sounded painful after a while, "Well, if you don't come down now, you won't be able to see what I've got to show you."
"What've you got to show me?" Alanna demanded, pushing her rump forward so she could get a better look at him. She lifted herself off the roof slightly to stop her bottom from going numb all over.
"You're Midwinter Fesitval present, of course," her Knightmaster answered, pulling a out a wrapped box about as thick as a small novel.
Relief flooded the Lioness. So he had gotten her a present. This meant that he wasn't unbelievably infuriated and that their friendship was null in void. After the primary relief, came curiousity. What had he gotten her this year? Last year, it'd been a nice scabbard for Lightning. But so much had happened since the previous year. The Tusaine war and all this recent mess at the palace...
Rising on the roof with a sturdy balance that most people would not have been able to manage, Alanna began to walk to the edge of the high rise as nimbly as a tightrope walker. Coming to a pillar, she grasped hold of it and slid down, delicately. The whole sight of her being so graceful was all the more impressive to the Prince since she was wearing a ball gown.
Jumping down from the balcony railing, Alanna wiped snow off her wet gown. She turned to brush her rear end, which was comically wet. She blushed, knowing what the courtiers would think if she walked into the Ball Room right now. However, she would not do that because she was already involved in enough scandals to last her a lifetime thank you very much.
Covering her combat boots with her gown, she stared up at Jonathan, looking for all the world like a perfect court lady, "You can give me my present now."
He smiled, placing the wrapped gift on the railing and sliding it towards her. She picked it up, eyeing it with a certain scrutinizing look. It was certainly wasn't heavy enough to be another scabbard but it weighed more than a simple book. Gingerly, Alanna started to unwrap the package. There was a silent tearing sound for about ten seconds before a velvety blue box was revealed. It was the royal Tortallan blue with the kingdom's emblem emblazoned on the front. This perplexed her more than ever.
Snapping open the box, Alanna's eyes were met with a necklace strung with red garnets, which, even in the dim light cast by the moon, twinkled beautifully. The garnets were shaped like drops of blood and looked so exquisite that the Lioness couldn't help but reach out a disbelieving hand to touch them.
"They're part of Tortall's crown jewels," Jon explained, pleased that he'd surprised her for once.
Alanna craned her head upwards, "Tortall's crown jewels? They're part of the royal hoard?"
He nodded then stopped, "Well, not really. Now they're your's."
"Mine...?" she mumbled more to herself than him, "But, no. You can't just give me a gift like this...can you?"
The Prince beamed, "Well if being royal didn't have some benefits around here then what else would? Anyways, it's fine with mother and father, I checked. Roger even took this necklace's sister, a garnet bracelet, to give to some lady he was courting."
So this was the necklace that went with Roger's bracelet. It was so ironic that both should end up with Alanna went in reality they were from two very different people to two very different people for two very different reasons. Still, the fake royal Niece could not help but love both presents. The red in the garnets really were her color. She stroked the necklace again, surprised that she was attracted to its feminine features.
'Maybe I'm going soft,' she thought with a slightly bitter smile.
Or, maybe, I'm finding middle ground. If she couldn't wear Roger's bracelet she could certainly wear this. Unless she was at social gatherings among the Tortallan court because people would wonder why she had been gifted such a present from her platonic cousin. She couldn't exactly wear it among her friends either. She was a boy to them. Lady Winfred, Abigail, Thom and Faithful were out of the question too. They would only tease for her on contexts that would make her pulse quicken and her face go red. Well, she could always wear it in the few precious moments when she was all alone. Which happened about once in a blue moon.
"Do you want me t-?" Jon started butwas cutoff as the parapet door opened.
Alanna snapped the box with the necklace shut and tried to hide it among the folds in her gown. However, her mind was racing with a sudden adrenaline and nervousness. She was sure her Knightmaster was about to say, 'Do you want me to put it on for you?' She was both glad and disappointed when the distraction of someone entering the balcony came.
It was Thom.
'Go away,' Alanna tried to will him, telepathetically, 'Go away now. I don't need you at the moment.'
Why was her twin always around when un-needed and not around when he was needed? He couldn't be seen for miles when all those suitors were harrassing her and now, when the one suitor she actually didn't mind was talking to her, he was bursting onto the scene like an annoying parent.
"There you are," Alanna's brother smiled at her, "I was looking all over for you. How did you escape the 'I-love-Alanna' fan club?"
"I don't know, but it would've been a lot more easier if my escort had been there to help me out," she frowned, crossing her arms over her chest, still holding Jonathan's gift.
"You can handle yourself fine alone," Thom shrugged, coming up to the edge of the balcony and stopping before the other two, "Hello, Your Highness."
Jon nodded and the mage went on, "Why is your gown dripping wet? Are you trying to catch an illness or something?"
"No, I am not to catch an illness," Alanna turned up her nose like an average noble, "I was simply...glimpsing the city of Corus from a rather unorthodox angle."
"By angle she means roof top," The Prince clarified to Thom.
The magical twin mouthed an 'o' before falling completely silent and still. The three of them looked across the night sky and far into the valley below where Corus was situated. The city glowed brightly and Alanna felt that she had never been more safe than she was now, between her tall Knightmaster and her beloved brother. Stepping towards Thom, she took his hand. He was rather shocked by her affectionate and sisterly act but tried not to show it. Clamping his own hand around her's, he smiled.
The parapet door swung open once more and Alanna decided that she really ought to stop coming here for private moments. Ball Room balconies were usually popular places for two lovers to make their secret rendevous or two traitors to conduct their treasonous talks. The only problem was that everyone else knew about the place too and access to it was open to all.
This time Roger strolled onto the parapet with Delia. They were both deep in a muffled chat. They ceased to speak and move once they noticed there were others on the balcony as well.
Alanna felt a cold sweat break out along the back of her neck. She hastened to remove her hand from Thom's, knowing what Roger was probably thinking. That she and Thom were frolicking like lovers and Jonathan had simply been around by chance. And that could very well have been possible to someone who was completely unaware that Alanna and Thom were brother and sister.
"Cousin Alanna, Cousin Jonathan,Squire Alan, good evening," he greeted them with a false smile, his eyes burning Alanna's hand.
The Lioness promised herself that she would try resume her job as a squire for at least three weeks after this incident, in case Roger intended to get revenge on Squire Alan for courting his bride-to-be. She had lied before and said that she wasn't involved with Alanna of Conte at all and now he saw them in plain view holding hands!
"Good evening," the other three chorused together, Alanna was even blushing.
"I see all of you, like me and the Lady of Eldorne here, have decided to take a breather?" he asked, trying to seem calm and not infuriated.
"Yes, it was getting a bit stuffy in there, don't you think?" Jonathan said, soothing over the moment with his charm. A type of charm that was always at his beck and call. It would be helpful when he was King.
"It looks like it was getting rather hot out here too," Delia commented, smirking as she looked Alanna and Thom over.
Roger ignored her and came over to Alanna, glancing at the box in her hand, "Tell me, Alanna dear, what is that?"
The immediate moment he asked about it, she wished she had hidden it. Her embarrassment and concern had gotten the best of her this time. It would not do so again.
"It's a Midwinter Festival present fr-," Alanna paused, wondering if she ought to say Jonathan.
"It's obviously from our Jonathan, am I right?" he questioned, without even seeming phased.
She nodded, deciding it was pointless to lie to a someone who was both a socceror and a genuis. Before she knew what was happening, it took it from her, flicking it open. She hadn't thought her grip on it was so light, but apparently it had been.
The Duke of Conte's eyes widened as he studied the contents of the box, "A relic from Tortall's royal hoard? Impressive."
The Crown Prince blushed, running a quick hand through his hair to distract himself, "It was nothing."
"Of course it wasn't," Roger's smile couldn't have fooled a blind man it was so fake, "It was nothing that you practically had to bribe Uncle Roald with a month of council duty to get it, huh? Well, in any case, you should be flattered, Alanna, that our cousin strived so hard to get you this."
The Lioness blinked. Was she flattered? Yes, she couldn't deny it. Who wouldn't be? It was also rather embarrassing to experience such a compliment in the presence of Roger, Delia and her teasing brother.
"Now you have both pieces that go with the set," the Conte Duke continued, staring Alanna straight in her imitation sapphire blue eyes as he spoke like he suspected that they were really purple.
"Both pieces?" Thom was puzzled. Jon and Delia looked like they were about feeling the same way.
"The other piece came from me. A garnet bracelet," Roger explained, unlatching the necklace from the box and holding it up to the silverly moonlight, "Very beautiful. Perfect for you, my lady."
"Oh that!" Thom looked like he was about to slap his forehead at his forgetfulness, then ceased. Roger gave him an unappraising look that showed he clearly disapproved of Squire Alan being around Alanna early enough in the morning to find out exactly what she'd received.
"Thank you for that, by the way," Alanna repeated through gritted teeth as manners required.
She wished he'd given the bracelet to Delia instead. The Eldorne girl looked like she was going to die of jealously because, not only had the Alanna gotten a garnet necklace from her ex-lover, the Prince, but she'd even got a garnet bracelet from Delia's current lover. Then again, maybe Alanna was glad that Delia hadn't gotten the bracelet. Such a lovely trinket shouldn't be on the body of such an ugly soul.
Jonathan was also feeling a spark of envy, but for different reasons, "That bracelet you got from the Crown Jewels was for Lady Alanna?"
He had said it was for a lady he was courting. This particular Knightmaster didn't like the thought of his cousin courting his squire.
"Yes, who's more deserving?" Roger said, his tongue as agile and slippery as a serpent's.
Alanna could've sworn she heard Delia say 'me' but when she'd looked at her, her lips were pursed together, tightly. Jonathan, for the first time in what seemed like forever, looked upset with his hero-his idol-his elder cousin.Turning Jon against Roger and upsetting Delia in one moment was wonderfully satisfying. Perhaps she ought to turn in for the night before it went sour again? Certainly, it was probable now that her gown had dried enough so that only a little bit of moisture was visible.
"Well, the time is just flying," the Lioness excused herself, tactfully. Perhaps the lady lessons were finally paying off, "And I must be flying with it. I'm sorry to say good night but I must. Farewell till tomorrow."
"Alanna! Alanna!" someone shook the female squire violently with vigour and excitement, "Wake up already, will you?"
"Uh bluh!" Alanna protested, covering her head with her pillow as the disturber of her peace tried to shake her awake.
Abigail retaliated by pulling her blanket from under her. There was a loud thud as Alanna hit the ground. That was enough to jerk anyone awake.
Rubbing her head and glaring up the royal Niece, she demanded, "What was that for?"
"Listen to this," Abby chimed, completely unaware to Alanna's morning grumpiness, "Dear Jessika-oh, that's the pdseudonym I used last night by the way. Anyways, it says-Dear Jessika. Lovely Jessika, Beautiful Jessika, I know we only met last night but even through your mask your loveliness captured my attention and my heart. I know so little about you, I know not even your home fief! But that does not stop me from loving you. If you love me too, please meet me by the southern palace sheds tonight at the eleventh hour. Love A Seeking Suitor."
She halted her reading and looked down at Alanna, who was still on the floor of Alanna of Conte's bedchambers. The Lioness stared straight back at her, wondering what the point of her hearing that letter was. She blinked.
"So?" Abigail implored, raising an eyebrow.
"So...?" Alanna inclined her head forward to show her incomprehension.
"Do you think I should go meet this suitor or not?" Abby inquired, as if it were so obvious it had been dancing naked under the Lioness' nose.
The Lioness in question looked skeptical. Going to meet some suitor after dark didn't seem like the smartest thing to do, but then again this could only be another noble and therefore they weren't likely to be very dangerous, more certainly lovesick.
Alanna shrugged, "Go if you want."
Abigail rolled her eyes, "Typical you. Haven't you got any opinion when it comes to love?"
"Yes," Alanna retorted, "That opinion is that love should be outlawed. It's a silly distraction."
You won't be saying that once you fall in love," Abigail replied, stuffing her letter away in one of the room's many drawers.
"Knights don't fall in love," Alanna concluded, straightening and standing. Her knee cracked and both girls flinched at the sound.
"That's not true," Abby waved her hand, then grinned, mischeviously, "Jonathan's smitten with you. Is he any less of a Knight for it?"
"He is not smitten with me," the female squire shook her head, trying to hide her flushed face.
"Whatever," the royal Niece shook her shoulders, "Deny your love. I won't do the same to mine. I plan to go meet this 'Seeking Suitor' tonight."
This entire day had been strange for Alanna. She had gone through the usual squire routines. Lessons, dull and uneventful as always. Nothing out of order. Swordsplay was more so difficult, since she was so physically unfit as of late. She'd actually come close to losing a duel to Douglass, who noticed.
However, he added, "You still did better than you have been doing for these past few weeks. It's like you've been an entirely different person."
Alanna tried to smile and failed. So, it looked like practicing swordplay with the squires and pages everyday still hadn't improved Thom's game. When this whole mess was over, she'd have to work hard to patch up her torn reputation.
"Love can do that to some people," Geoffery smirked, nudging the Lioness in the ribs. He was obviously indicating Alanna of Conte, but she was as far from her mind as were the rings of Saturn.
The most strangest thing about the day was that Roger hadn't even tried to avenge himself as the holder of his Scanran cousin's heart. In fact, all he did in the class for the Gifted was talk about the evolution of the Gift from Wild Magic. He hadn't once looked Alanna's way when he wasn't supposed to and that gave him away more than if he had glowered at her. She knew he was up to something.
Or perhaps he'd given up on Alanna of Conte as a hopeless cause and could just leave poor Alan alone? Perhaps he'd finally decided that marrying his cousin was a disgusting act and would never meet the kingdom's approval? Perhaps he'd decided to turn over a new leaf, go good, and stop trying to steal the throne of its rightful owners, King Roald, Queen Lianne and Jon?
No, that couldn't be it. He definitely had a plan. Exactly what it was, Alanna couldn't pinpoint. All she knew was that the air was smelling of something sinister brewing and she didn't like it one bit.
The eleventh hour was about to strike and many nobles had already gone to sleep. Abigal knew all the pages were still up since they were busy writing and scribing together their never ending homework. Many squires would do the same; though those that belonged to good Knightmasters could sleep soundly.
Abigail had never felt more awake. She straightened the black mask on her face, grinning to herself. She was the exact replica of her alter ego, Jessika, the mysterious noble lady that had already won the heart of a nobleman. She was wearing a long sleeved black gown so that when she creeped out of the palace, she would blend in the inky dark night.
The night was cold and goosebumps coursed across her arms and collar. She huddled deeper into her cloak, holding it close. However, not even the winter chill could quake her excitement. She was exhilarated to have her own seperate Tortallan adventure. That was the only thing wrong with this kingdom: here Alanna of Trebond got all the attention from everyone.
She heard her name everywhere. Well, her various names. Alan of Trebond was quickly becoming a stuff for folk songs for his ghostlike hands with a sword, archery and horseback riding. Squires were jealous of him. Pages admired him. Knights and noble men respected him.
'If only they knew the him was a her,' Abby thought with a laugh.
But some knew. Prince Jonathan and George Cooper for example. The only people who knew she was a girl were both madly in love with her. It was almost too unfair to handle.
Not that she wasn't quickly gaining admirers. Every man at court thought Alanna of Conte was beautiful and everyone woman was jealous that every man thought she was beautiful. She'd even overheard Roger talking about her; mind you it only sounded like he was marrying his cousin as a political move. And, she was on the arm of their precious golden boy, Alan.
Like Abigail said, Alanna of Trebond got all the attention.
Now it was her turn. She couldn't wait till shemet up with her mystery man and had a romantic rendevous like she'd seen all those young Tortallan nobles doing lately. She saw a perfect picture of him in her mind's eye. Tall and handsome with golden hair? Yes, golden hair, and eyes as green as grass in July.
Sighing with pleasure and feeling extreme lovelust, she scurried along a palace pathway that was hardly ever used. The southern sheds loomed ahead. This whole part of the palace and its gardens were usually left abandoned and had a special kind of wild untamed beauty.
Abigail kicked her trot to a skip, feeling more and more anxious and impatient by each second that had passed. It was already past eleven. She had chosen to show up late because it was so much better than showing up early and seeming overly eager.
The abandoned southern sheds were covered in moss and had unruly vines stretching across their sides. The roof was damp and rotting, looking like it would fall over at any moment. Surprisingly enough, the doors and the windows looked sturdy and almost new as if someone had recently replaced them.
The royal Niece glanced through the windows to check if anyone was standing within already. The insides of the sheds were just as black as the outside so she couldn't make anything out; although the shadows seemed deeper in one corner in particular.
Abigail tried the door, it had been left unlocked. A last minute jolt shot up her spine. Here she was...and yet she couldn't even bring herself to open the door all the way. Leaving it ajar by just a thin crack, she stood, stockstill.
Finally, her mind forced her body to do its bidding and she threw the door open, hoping it wouldn't break, and stepped over the threshold. The door behind her hit the outer wall of the shed, bounced off it, and slammed shut. Once inside, she realized she was as good as blind inside the shed. For some reason, little to no light shone in through the windows leaving the small space cramped, dark, and almost frightening. However, Abby had a good head and didn't let it get to her. She groped in the impossible dark for a source of light. A candle...a lamp...anything.
"Let me help you with that," someone offered, making her nearly jump out of her skin. She relaxed when she realized it was only her 'Seeking Suitor.' Standing straight, she waited for him to give the room some luminesence.
An oil lamp flickered on, alighting the room with a fuzzy dim light. Abigail found herself standing closer to the 'Seeking Suitor' than she'd intended. She moved a few paces away. But he only moved closer. His hood hid his face. In a second, he lowered it. He had the strong-chinned, delicate-nosed, violet-eyed face of Alanna and Thom of Trebond.
Surprised, Abigail couldn't think straight. Her intial reaction was to back away even though that was silly, "Thom?"
It definitely couldn't be Alanna, she'd only just glimsped her asleep in Alanna of Conte's chambers so that she could wake up early tomorrow morning to go on a riding outing with some lady or the other.
The Trebond squire frowned, "No. Alan. Alan of Trebond."
Abby could not have been more confused. As far as she knew, Alan of Trebond didn't exist. He was only an allias of Alanna's so that she could become a Knight. Could this be the twins playing a joke on her?
"Alan of Trebond doesn't exist, now stop playing games Thom," Abigail was slightly irritated because she'd come here with romantic notions, notions of passion, not to get played.
"I tell you I'm not Thom," the young man pursued, "I'm Alan and I'm madly in love with you, Lady Jessika, or should I say, Maid Abigail?"
Whipping off her mask, Abby widened her eyes, "How did you know?"
"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? I could never forget those lovely green eyes anywhere," 'Alan' whispering, coming so close, his breathing was fluttering her eyelashes.
She tried to push him away but he wouldn't let her, "Love me? You're crazed."
"You must think I'm still in love with your mistress? Well, it's simply not true. Lady Alanna holds no place in my heart," Alan told her.
Abigail's head was reeling. Alan of Trebond didn't exist! Alanna of Conte didn't exist! They were all simply characters that Alanna, and occasionally Thom, brought to life because she was in need to. But this disillusioned person was under the impression that these people were real. He was under the impression that he was one of these people for Mithros' sake!
"Ugh, you've gone bonkers if you are Thom. If you aren't, you're still bonkers. I'm out of here," Abigail snapped, turning around and reaching for the door knob. It wouldn't budge.
"What in the name of the Great Mother Goddess is going on?" she demanded, kicking the door.
"It won't open," Alan stated, his voice going eerily still, "It won't open until we do what we've been brought here to do."
The royal Niece was afraid out of her mind, but wouldn't dare show it. Instead, she whirled around, confidently, "Oh yeah? And what've we been brought here to do?"
"Consomate our love," Alan responded, matter-of-factly.
"You're...joking," Abigail choked on her own words.
'Please, please tell me this is a bad dream. Tell me Alanna will force me to wake up right now,' Abby pleaded with her own mind.
"This is no joke," Alan said, clasping Abby's wrist in a death grip, "Either we do this the easy way or I force you."
Abigail's response to this was to kick this 'Alan' swiftly in the stomach, making him bend over in pain. However, by the end of the night, it would be her that would have to pay the ultimate sacrifice.
And I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Oh, all I want for Midwinter is you, you
Alanna couldn't believe it. That horribly cliched song was stuck in her head. What was even more unbelievable was that it was starting to become appealing to her. The words were simple and the tune had been catchy. She blanched and made her eyes open. She was met with a full on full look at the top canopy of her bed. It had the Conte emblem embroided on it in neat, tiny, stitchery.
'I could never sew that well,' Alanna thought to herself, fleetingly remembering when she herself had gone to a few stitchery sessions with the other ladies of court. What a boring thing to do. Being a squire was definitely better.
She stretched her arms, then sat up. A clock nearby told her it was ten thirty and if she didn't hurry, she'd miss breakfast in the Noble's Mess Hall. Not that she really cared, being a noble she could always order her servingmaid to go fetch her something to eat. Speaking of her 'servingmaid', where was that girl?
Abigail was not around, as far as Alanna could tell. She was probably with Lady Winfred or the other maids, gossiping about her trip to go see her 'Seeking Suitor' as Lady Jessika. The Lioness smiled to herself. She could just picture Abby all excited and loud, cracking everyone's eardrums as she talked about her new lover, non stop.
Alanna got up from bed, brushing away hair that had matted onto her forehead. Since Abigail wasn't around, perhaps she ought to call Winfred's maids, Carly and Lydia, to prepare her not only for breakfast but for a morning ride with Lady Resca and Cythera.
Going to her stone basin, she began to wash away the oily residue that had accumulated on her face. She was definitely not a morning person as a soft noble lady either and certainly her skin didn't behave any more better in this alter personality.
When she was done, she wiped her face off with a towel thinking, 'I wonder what Jonathan sees in me if he sees anything at all, that is. I can't exactly be sure it's me he loves, can I?'
And how did she feel about this? To tell the complete, white, truth, she didn't know. It definitely made her tingly but was that the spark of a love that was mutual? Or was it just a feeling of adoration, a feeling of being loved that she loved?
Suddenly, Alanna wished she had a mother around to ask these sort of questions too. It was extremely unlike her to wish for things she'd never had. To complain that life was unfair was something she seldom did. Occasionally, she would crack up because it was injust that she always needed to bind her breasts and deal with her monthlies and fight off Duke Roger. But never would she complain that it was also unfair to expect her to live up to the expectations people had of boys and she didn't want to either. Life was life, after all. But having a mother would make the female side of it so much easier.
A furious banging on her door broke her out of her stupor of thought. She made a face. Who in the world was attacking her door with their fists like that? Goddess, they should learn to be a teensy bit more patient than that.
'Ha. That's like the pot calling the kettle black,' she thought, snarkily.
The Lioness secured the tie of her robe around her waist and went to open the door. A very frazzled Carly was standing there, her blonde hair which was usually straight and prettily tucked into a bun, was frizzy and all over the place, as if she hadn't slept in a long time.
"My lady," Carly cried in Alanna's face once she'd opened the door, "My lady your mother is calling you now! There's been an emergency."
Emergency! Thousands of thoughts and vicious taunts shrouded Alanna's mind. What if someone had discovered that Alan of Trebond was a girl? Or that Thom of Trebond was playing Alan of Trebond? What if people found out Alanna of Conte didn't exist and that it was really Alan of Trebond, who was really a girl? What if Roger had decided to...
'Stop,' Alanna ordered her mind, 'Stop scaring yourself.'
Shaking her head, she replied, "Take me to my mother, Carly."
The maid made a quick curtsy and led Alanna down the hall. Shutting the door behind her, the Lioness followed her in her bath robe and flat, leather loafers. Her hair was a tangle of brown red and her eyes still had last night's eye color painted on, though it was faded.
Carly and Alanna moved with speed that most other people couldn't manage. The sense of growing dread stinged every bit of Alanna's being. She just knew that the Duke of Conte was involved somehow. She hadn't even heard what had happened and already she knew.
Surprisingly, Carly wasn't leading Alanna to Lady Winfred's chambers, but to a corridor in the lower parts of the palace that she was unfamiliar with. The walls were dark down here and lighting was poor. At the end of the hall was a large wooden door, thicker than most, because it was a room for private council or private trials.
Alanna came upon it, trying to swallow the queasy feeling in her stomach. Carly politely knocked on the door, eyes red from sleeplessness and crying?
"Enter. The door is unbolted," a deeprich baritonevoice that sounded like a traditionalist of the court called through the door.
Alanna went for the door but Carly grabbed her wrist and told her, "I'm so sorry, Lady, if that's any consolation. I know how much they both mean to you."
She realeased her wrist and Alanna inhaled, sharply. She couldn't hold in the train of bad thoughts. Both of who? Was someone hurt? Was someone killed? What had happened?
She knew she couldn't find out till she opened the door, so she did. She was dumbfounded by what she saw. Most everyone she knew at court were gathered about, arguing with each other, furiously. In the center of them all, shackled and gagged was Thom. Four Knights of the King's Own guarded him like he was Tortall's number one convict or something.
When Alanna entered, the chatter died down. The court's traditionalists, Roger, Delia, Helena, Lady Catherine and a few other court personalities were debating something, fiercely, with Jonathan, Gary, Raoul, Douglass, Geoffery, Cythera, a few other ladies from court, many squires, even Arram Draper. Lady Winfred was off to one side, looking at a loss for words. In her arms, a very deranged Abigail, hidden in her servingmaid form, sobbed hysterically. She wore a black gown that had been torn apart violently and a bruise appeared on her chest, just above her right breast.
"What's going?" Alanna murmured, feeling dazed, as if this weren't really happening.
"Alanna, thank the Gods you're here!" Raoul exclaimed, setting forth, "They're trying to send Alan to imprisonment in the mines up North!"
"What?" she snapped, regaining some of her sharp composure, "Why?"
Thom couldn't go to the mines! He wasn't at fault for anything! It anyone would go to the mines for anything, it would have to be her.
Jonathan was about to reply but Roger cut him off, "For rape of another's servingmaid."
"Rape of another's servingmaid...?" Alanna trailed off, Thom would never rape anyone. Never. "That's impossible. Alan wouldn't rape anyone!"
"That's what we're saying!" Geoffery huffed, looking like he'd been doing a lot of yelling.
"Dear Alanna, you must be emotionally unstable right now," the Duke of Conte comforted her, rubbing her back but it only gave her chills, "But ask your maid Abigail. It is what she saw. I searched her mind and foundnothing but Alan. Lady Delia and Lady Helena even claim they saw him leave the scene of the rape himself."
"Liar!" Alanna cried, pushing him away. This was over the top! Thom would not go to jail for doing his sister a favor!
A heart-wrenching sob broke from Abigail's mouth and Alanna rushed to her, "Abby, Abby! Tell me, please, tell me what you saw. It couldn't have been Alan, could it?"
"Wait," Arram Draper held up a tanned hand, "Let us conduct this with magic. Why don't we let the great Tortallan socceror, the Duke of Conte, cast a truth spell on her? No one can fight its magic so we could be sure what she says is fact."
"For that we need a second mage to supervise the casting of the truth spell to see that it does not manipulate," a member of the Tortallan court hollered, red-faced and pudgy.
"I'll oversee the casting of the spell," Arram assured him, standing tall.
"And who are you to oversee our Tortallan affairs, Carthaki?" another courtier demanded, sounding outraged.
"Tyran," Arram corrected, calmly, "And, who am I? I'm a black robe."
The mage split his cloak to reveal a black robe that was gifted toand could only be worn by those precious few who were powerful enough to wield the power and skill that came with that title of Black robe. Everyone gasped. The youngest black robe to date was minimum twenty five. Arram Draper had just broken the record that Roger had set once a long time ago.
"Very well," Roger of Conte agreed, "You can oversee my casting, though I doubt you'll find any mistakes."
"We'll see," Arram's voice was expressionless as he watched Roger stand over Abby, orbing his Gift towards his fingertips. Soon, they were glowing orange. When they looked like they were about to burn the Conte Duke's fingers off, the magic began washing over Abigail, closing in a layer of truth spell. Jonathan looked on, apprehensively, apparently seeing nothing wrong about the spell.
Neither did Arram Draper. He merely nodded when Roger was finished to give his approval. The Duke of Conte turned to Alanna and bowed, allowing her to question the witness. The Lioness gulped, though she didn't know why. She shouldn't be nervous in the least bit. Roger was the one who ought to be worried because once Abigail was questioned she would reveal him for the criminal.
"Alright, Abby," Alanna started, faltering for some reason, "Who did you see that raped you?"
The once lively girl opened her mouth, eyes tearing up, "Alan of Trebond."
Alanna, and everyone else, could not believe their ears. Alan of Trebond. Alan of Trebond. She'd actually answered with, "Alan of Trebond." It couldn't be true. She must be lying or mad or...forgetful. Something was up. Thom would never rape anyone. Not in a million years. The Lioness spun around and looked her brother in the eyes. His amethysts glittered and told her that it was all lies. Somehow someone had set him up.
The court marshall didn't seem to feel the same way as Alanna, however, because he barked, "Throw the boy in the dungeons. A night's imprisonment will do him good. We will have a full official trial on this after we gain the Crown's approval. If we gain the Crown's approval."
"Believe me you will," Jonathan snapped, face red at losing his argument and having his squire, if not his real one, get thrown in jail.
The four Knights of the King's Own began pushing Thom forward by the points of their swords. Alanna felt tears prickle her eyes. She didn't care if everyone saw her cry. Suddenly pride and Helena and Delia's later teasing didn't seem to matter so much. All that mattered was that her brother had tried to do her a favor and now he was disgraced and served a night in the dangerous palace dungeons.
"Alan!" Alanna shrieked, suddenly, "Alan, this isn't over! I won't let them get away with this! I'll get you out of prison!"
He shook his head at her as he was led out of the room like this was all very funny, but his hopeful smile showed that he had some faith in her capability to save him yet.
Author's Note: Dun dun dun! Who would've thought, hey? More drama to come next chapter, so I can't wait to write it and I hope you can't wait to read it. LOL...anyways, I hope you liked it and review, review, review.
winky-wink