Sorry, I realized that I made a mistake in one of the other chapters; I said Tortallians instead of Tortallans, even though the former sounds a lot better than the latter.

Sorry too that I haven't updated. Well, actually, I'm not that sorry because it's fun to make people stew. Not that many will, not many have read this, but that's alright. It's still fun.

Disclaimer: Guess. Any wild guess as to what I'm going to say.

After I had put on some of Neal's clothes, I basically sat on his bed and stared at the walls. I never pictured myself in his room, and I wanted to remember the experience. While I was sitting there, someone knocked on the door.

I absolutely froze, half-way out of my position on the mattress. It was like sitting at home by yourself at 10'o'clock at night and having someone try opening the door. You want to go help them by opening it up, but what if it isn't someone you know? It's always your brother, or someone else who is supposed to be there, but there is that period where you go cold and wonder.

But I doubted that Neal would need me to let him in.

Then the person outside called, "I can hear you."

Stupid creaky mattress! Anyway, it would be pointless to act like I wasn't here now, so I grudgingly opened the door.

A very pretty boy was standing there: blond curls, blue eyes… Joren. The worst person I could possibly meet at this time and place.

"What do you need?" I asked him, my voice squeaking a bit. Then I decided it couldn't hurt to be polite, and added, "Sir."

"I'll ask you the same question. Why are you in a page's room wearing a page's clothing?" Joren squinted at me suspiciously. It ruined his tough, pretty boy look. He looked like a inquisitive cupid. Which almost made me laugh, because I kept comparing the look on his face to the little Fantasia cherubs, but I reminded myself that I was being polite, and smothered my giggle.

Well, maybe not that polite. I told him, "Why are you snooping around outside another page's room when you are supposed to be in a page's class?"

His almost invisible blonde brows snapped together. "What are you, a maid? You should show some respect to a noble; answer me now."

I quickly came up with my story. "I want to become a knight, and Neal let me try on his breeches and hose so I could get used to them after wearing skirts for so long." I winced once I realized I had just incriminated Neal and branded him as a hose-lending kind of guy. I didn't think that he'd appreciate that much.

"Commoners can't become knights." Joren informed me loftily.

I glared at him. "Then why are you here?" I mumbled, then continued, louder, "Would you stop making inferences? You're no good at it. I never told you I was a maid."

"But—'' he began to say, and tried to push his way through the doorway I was conveniently blocking.

"No buts." I told him in my most stern, lofty voice. "Now, run back to class so you don't get in trouble."

And I closed the door in his very surprised and very angry face.

I slumped down, leaning against the wood in case he tried to force his way in and proceeded to mentally kick myself. I had just made an enemy of a guy who didn't get upset about locking a girl on top of a rickety tower, an act which he committed simply to satisfy a grudge. I can be so smart sometimes.