Disclaimer: Do I have to keep writing this? You know what it is going to say.

The rest of the day was spent the same as the beginning. I sat around, doing my best to make no noise, except I was now debating about whether to tell Neal and Kel about Joren, something I hadn't needed to worry about before. I had decided to tell them, but as always, when the time comes, your story flies out of you head.

So when Neal came back in, throwing me a roll and an apple, I just smiled, thanked him, and began to eat. He apologized that he wasn't able to get much, but he said Wyldon would ask a bunch of questions if he had tried to sneak some meat, from the tables or the cooks.

I licked my lips, and began to say, "Neal," Joren came here today and I told him a stupid story about why I was in here wearing your clothes but I don't think he believed me. What should we do?

In case you aren't an astute reader, I will point out to you that the whole explanation is out of the quotation marks. I didn't tell him anything.

Kel came in right then. And although she offered me another roll, I didn't think that she had decided to forgive me for showing up in her universe.

I figured I could wait and tell Neal later. Then I realized that it was nighttime, and I had to find somewhere to sleep. This would probably be Kel's room, which would mean I might not make it till morning.

I did spend the night there, actually and I did stay alive, probably because Lalassa (who was deathly afraid of me) was a witness Kel didn't want to deal with.

Lalassa got me an old chocolate colored dress and moccasins, so I assumed I wouldn't have to worry about Joren or anyone else questioning my gender or intent. I informed Kel when she woke up that I was going to look for a job and I would see her later in the day. She nodded her assent as she took her glaive form the wall. Afraid that her hand might 'accidentally' slip and the weapon might therefore 'accidentally' stab some person who happened to be in its way, I quickly left and went to Neal's room.

I knew he wasn't a morning person, but I also knew that I had to tell him about Joren and that earlier would be more appreciated than later; I had my suspicions that if Joren was going to do anything, he would act fast.

After some door banging and a short wait, Neal stuck his head out of his room, grinned when he saw who it was, and beckoned me inside. He sat down on his bed and started pulling on weird looking shoe-sort-of-short-boot things, and informed me that, "Since you already must know how grouchy I am in the mornings, I'm not going to apologize for any appalling behavior. You choose to come over now."

But through all the smiles he was throwing around, he wasn't acting like a grump at all. I was surprised he even thought of himself that way, because it was all seeming like a big lie right now. Maybe he had had a night of great dreams, or something. I hadn't, but I'm not hardly ever cranky, so I it didn't make any difference that my sleep was full of tall girls killing me. I wonder what that meant? I'm not very good with dream interpretation.

I shoved all this aside and said quickly, "I met Joren yesterday. He knows I was here, and I doubt he believed my wimpy story."

When he realized I was waiting for his reply, hands on my hips, he asked me "What's the matter? He won't bother you, he wouldn't dare."

"Neal," I snapped. "He kidnapped a maid. What would stop him from—'' And then I remembered that we were still in the second year. He hadn't kidnapped anyone yet.

Neal's mouth was hanging open; rage began clouding his face. Before he could say anything, I supplied lamely, "I bet he wouldn't mind abducting a maid, so long as she wasn't working for anyone really important."

He didn't believe me for a second, I knew it, but at least he let it drop, though I could tell that the injustice of it all was hurting his pride. Instead he said, "You'll be looking for someplace to work today, right? He won't be able to touch you."

With this, he began over to the door, not allowing me to voice my fears that Joren might bother him or Kel about it.

It turned out that I was right about that, though, because as soon as Neal stepped into the hall, he was shoved back in again. I noticed with a little pride somewhere in the back of my mind that I didn't scream when I saw Joren storming in and attacking my friend. I also noticed that I didn't help Neal at all. This didn't give me any pride whatsoever.

Neal was sprawled in the center of the room with Joren sitting on top of him, punching him in the face, which was, rather gruesomely, red, white, and blue.

But I only froze for a couple minutes. Which is not that good, but I have never experienced or witnessed a fight of any kind. All the groans and curses rolled over me, filling what was, at that time, a very empty mind. After that period of shock, I stalked over to the two and grabbed Joren's failing arm. I wasn't strong enough to pull him off of Neal, but I stopped his blows and caught his attention.

"You!" he screamed at me. "You insolent, little guttersnipe! I knew you were with him!" Now snarling at Neal, whose face was shining with blood, the noble continued, "Coddling girls, again, Queenscove? Hoping they'll get into bed with—''

That was definitely enough. I shook Joren's arm firmly, and when he turned toward me, I began my tirade, which all went extremely fast. "First of all, you have no reason to insult anyone of your stature. Second of all, I have it on good authority that guttersnipes lead fine and happy lives, so you don't need to be upset about your social status, which means nothing in the scheme of things. Thirdly, there is no good reason to insult or otherwise harm Nealan, who has nothing to do with any of your current problem with me. Which I would appreciate you explained, since I have no idea what it is that has set you so firmly against anything feminine." I think I said all of that in one breath.

Now my strength didn't matter; Joren got up all by himself. Neal was too winded to do anything but lie there helplessly, and I for one didn't blame him. But I would not have minded any help. I have never felt comfortable staring down a guy who just pounded another, older guy's face in.