Again I apologize for the long wait. Also, this chapter is shorter than usual. However, I haven't felt exactly inclined to write much recently-see the end for why.

In the meantime, enjoy the chapter. It was waaaaay more fun than it should have been to write.

Kamaria moved as soundlessly as she knew how as she collected and distributed another round of tea, more out of an attempt to entertain herself than any actual need for silence, because the Councilors were currently engrossed in a sniping match between the representative of the Southeast, Lady Herensa, and the representative of the city's artisans, Guildmaster Trion.

She had stopped listening when the argument over a relatively minor matter of the pricing of wool had turned to personal insults; they had been going for nearly a quarter-candlemark now, and Kamaria was wishing that the King or Jasen or the King's Own, Meriel, would just stop them. There didn't seem to be any sort of purpose to this, and Kamaria was frustrated.

Luckily she hid it behind the bland, slightly vacuous expression she had been dragging out for use lately; first in that morning with Idrian, to hide her fury, and now to conceal boredom.

Abi, on the other hand, wasn't nearly so skilled at concealing his emotions; he actually yawned as Kamaria passed him the tray of empty mugs and yawned again as he trotted off to replenish the tea supply.

Finally, Herald Meriel rose from her seat and cut through the progressively more vicious insults with a voice that didn't seem to carry, yet quelled both of them where they stood. "Lady Herensa, Guildmaster Trion, both of you will need to consult with your subordinates before the pricing of your fine-spun wool can actually be settled. Baron Radan, I believe you have news for us regarding the mining in the north?"

Kamaria's only outward show of surprise was a blink as both the lady and the Guildmaster sat down, tempers cooling, and the Baron, a young, languid-looking man, rose to his feet.

When he spoke, it was in a lazy, careless drawl. "La, milady, I'm afraid there is nothing much thrilling in the trifling drilling in the stony hills of the Triple Rills, but lord, there was a slight burst of spite from an uppity upstart who decided the gems were his by pauper's right."

What?

Kamaria exchanged quick, incredulous looks with the other Trainees in the room. A slight raise in her eyebrows was all she allowed herself, but Tara's brow was twisted in confusion and Abi and Edim were outright gaping.

Kamaria quickly glanced at King Rothay to see how the monarch would deal with…this man. Why on earth was he rhyming? And what in the name of all the gods was "pauper's right"?

Heralds Rothay and Meriel seemed unruffled, though, as they both glanced down at their papers. Kamaria, scanning the rest of the Councilors, was further puzzled by their entire lack of reaction.

"Were the raiders tracked down?" asked Jasen, sipping from his tea and hefting it for a refill. Hastily, Tara snatched the pot and took it to him.

The Baron appeared to not be paying attention, instead inspecting the embroidery on the cuff of his sleeve. The young man presented it to Guildmaster Trion, who sat beside him. "Don't you think this workmanship is fine?" he asked, in a tone easily audible to the whole room, "Look, they got the braiding of the triple-stitch exactly right. I may have to actually visit the place again." Almost absently, Radan plucked a paper from the top of the small stack in front of his place, balled it, and tossed it at Meriel, who caught it and smoothed it out, just as absently.

Kamaria exchanged another look with Abi, but froze as Radan's drawl floated across the room again. "My word, isn't that dear Garethe's daughter? What in the name of Kernos has she done to her hair? My darling child, I'm afraid that blue simply doesn't work with your complexion!"

She would not respond. She would not respond. Kamaria held herself absolutely still for a count of twenty-five, concentrating only on the numbers, and soon enough, the silence was broken again by Jasen. "So you've agreed to speak to Sir Amity about his daughter, then. Where are the raiders being held?"

Kamaria had entirely lost the thread of the conversation. She couldn't imagine why the King was allowing this-this lunatic to ramble about his coat, and her hair, and to rhyme his reports-

:Kamaria, you're leaking through on me, said Abi, unexpectedly into her mind, and Kamaria dropped her tray with a clatter.

Radan looked directly at her with a set of impossibly blue eyes, and remarked, casually, "Oh, the raiders, why must we talk about such unpleasant things? I'd much rather discuss that beautiful red lace the Duchess Lilia was wearing at last night's reception."

With that he sat down and took a long drink of his tea.

:Kamaria, came Abi's unfamiliar mind-voice again, :Your shields are open enough for me to notice and now we have your dropped tray to clean up.:

Kamaria began to formulate a scathing reply, but realized halfway through constructing it that Abi was only trying to help. With a stifled sigh, she thickened her shields as much as she could manage and bent to salvage what she could from the ground.

"I do not believe him," she later fumed at Alain, pacing back and forth in Companion's Field after supper, "What on earth did he mean by-by describing his coat, and talking in riddles, and-and-" she flung her hands into the air with frustration, and let herself fall with a thud beside her lifebonded.

Alain looked up from the book he was perusing, leaning against Ramya's side, and shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't help you," he said, "It's been a year since I've had Council duty; actually, the last duty I was on was when I met you, I'm probably due for another round at some point."

Kamaria made an inarticulate, strangled noise and sprang to her feet again. "I'm just-it's-you are not helping me!" she accused.

Alain gave her a wounded expression. "What am I supposed to say, then?" he asked, miffed, "The Baron replaced the Earl after our fiasco, and I don't like politics. Give me a nice clean circuit to ride any day."

Kamaria opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again to say, in a less vehement tone, "Sorry. It's just-I cannot figure out what that-that idiot is doing on the Council!"

"I see you've encountered Baron Radan, then," said Kiril, wandering up behind them with 'Miro at his side.

Kamaria whirled to stare at him. "How did you know?" she blurted.

Kiril grinned wickedly. "I just walked past Tara, Abi, and Vera having the very same discussion."

"Then do you know why he's on the Council?" asked Kamaria beseechingly, "He-he was talking about his coat, and the one relevant comment he made during the entire meeting was entirely in rhyme!"

Kiril finger-combed 'Miro's mane for a moment, and replied, "Well, I suppose it would surprise you to learn that underneath that foppish personality he for some reason chooses to cultivate, the Baron is as much a political genius as your father is a military master."

Both Alain and Kamaria stared. Kiril looked up at them after several moments of silence. "It's true, you know," he said, "Wouldn't you agree, Kenan?"

Both Kamaria and Alain jumped as Kenan's voice came from behind them. "Why, certainly, Kiril, provided you aren't using my good opinion for the forces of darkness."

"Kamaria just encountered Baron Radan," said Kiril, with a grin, "She's rather bemused."

Kenan laughed as he joined Kiril beside 'Miro. "Well, my dear student," he said, "I must say, you're not the first one I've had this conversation by any means. Rest assured that despite his…eccentricities, he is utterly brilliant."

"That's what people keep saying, but I don't understand it!" cried Kamaria, throwing her hands into the air, "Lord and Lady save me from these walking contradictions!"

She went stalking away from Companion's Field. Kenan and Kiril exchanged a bewildered glance as Alain watched her, one eyebrow raised.

"She's been ruffled a lot today," he said finally, as Kiril opened his mouth to ask a question, "Her father got angry at her for…well, something, I'm not too clear on it myself."

"Well, the ways of womankind are mysterious mazes to us poor men," said Kiril, resignedly.

Kamaria prowled through the gardens, incredibly frustrated and completely unable to say why. She was paying so little attention to where she was going, she turned a corner and smacked straight into Baron Radan.

The Baron turned to her, the look on his face bemused, but then his face brightened in recognition and he bowed flamboyantly. "Ah, my dear Lady Kamaria," he said, straightening, catching her hand, and pressing a kiss to it, "You light my day with your presence."

Kamaria's Court instincts took over, and she bowed in return, remembering her breeches. "You honor me, Baron," she said, her tone bland and polite, "But until I complete my training, I am merely a Heraldic Trainee."

She swore mentally. That phrase had sounded inane, even to her.

The Baron clapped a hand to his chest as if shocked. "Ah, but you are a lady!" he said dramatically, "A queen amongst the Trainees, surely the brightest star in Companion's Field! A shining beacon of genius, according to my young cousin Idrian here-"

Belatedly Kamaria noticed Idrian Frethatsa hanging awkwardly behind the Baron, and groaned inwardly. Is everyone here related? she thought in despair, ignoring momentarily the fact that the entire class of nobles was linked by an intricate web of intermarriages.

"Heyla, Kamaria," said Idrian, shyly, smiling, "The Baron's just being nice-I'm hardly related to him at all, really."

Baron Radan clapped both hands to his chest, this time, and melodramatically flung himself at Idrian's feet. Kamaria did her best not to stare. "Oh, but young Idrian, surely you know that the tie of mother's second-cousin-once-removed-by marriage's nephew is the closest tie amongst us nobles, closer even than the bonds of siblinghood!" he cried, stretching his hands out in entreaty.

Kamaria decided then and there that the Baron was completely mad, whatever anyone else said. Idrian, meanwhile, was giggling quietly. "Baron, please get up," he said, "You'll ruin your trousers."

The Baron stood and shook a finger down at Idrian. "Now, now, young cousin," he said sternly, "You know you are to address me by name, not by title, and as for my trousers-lord, I'm never going to wear these again. There's too much yellow in the green! It does nothing for my complexion. Don't you agree, Lady Chantrea?"

The Baron held out his coat and turned slowly before Kamaria could object. She blinked at his breeches, which were, she noticed, quite fitted-they nicely showed off his legs, and the boots he wore were-

She blinked firmly and raised her eyes to the Baron. "I'm afraid I'm hardly the best one to ask, Baron," she said, formally, "I have little knowledge in such things."

Besides, I'm lifebonded, she added mentally, It's not like I'm going to abandon Alain for an attractive pair of legs.

:I'll take him if you don't want him, then, said Sitara unexpectedly in her mind, her tone and choice of words clearly selected to shock her. It worked; Kamaria yelped and jumped as if stung.

"Oh, lord! A bee?" asked the Baron, rushing forward and clasping Kamaria's hands in his own, "My dear, please tell me you aren't injured in any way?"

"Ah-" said Kamaria, blankly, noticing once more how intensely blue his eyes were, "No. My Companion-"

"Oh, your Companion! Of course! Bring her here, darling, I simply must meet her, Idrian and I insist! Don't we, cousin?" asked Radan, tossing a look over his shoulder at Idrian.

To her gratification, Idrian looked just as bemused as Kamaria felt. "Uh-certainly, sir," he said.

Sitara at that moment rounded the corner; she clearly hadn't been far away. She paused to consider the Baron, and arched her neck prettily.

Kamaria recovered a fraction of her equilibrium. :Sitara, I thought you were being courted already, she said sternly, :And that you'd been getting somewhere!

Sitara tossed her head as the Baron cooed over her. Kamaria ignored whatever endearments Radan was giving her Companion. :I have, thank you, but it's always nice to be admired, she said, :Besides, the Baron usually has a treat with him. Much like you once did.:

Kamaria blinked, then blinked again as the Baron reached into a pocket and withdrew a small mound of sugar, which Sitara ate daintily. "See there, my dear, your Chosen doesn't seem to much like me," said the Baron, patting Sitara's neck with, Kamaria thought, unnecessary familiarity.

"Ah-" she said, and stopped, unable to think of anything to say. The Baron put on a pout.

"You see, she assumes that blank face whenever I draw near!" he cried, flinging his arms into the air dramatically, "Her responses are polite and boring, and she knows nothing about fashion, nothing! I'm very nearly appalled!"

Sitara gave her snicker-whicker, clearly agreeing with the Baron. Kamaria stood uncertainly where she was; on the one hand, she couldn't leave without being rude, but on the other, she was entirely off-balance here.

To her utter shock, Idrian came to her rescue. "Don't worry, Kamaria," he said, loudly and familiarly, "He's always like this. He just likes to see how people react. He should have been Court Jester."

"But such a place would entirely disgrace the renown I have earned as the Council has learned!" replied the Baron, whirling to face Idrian with a mock-wounded look, "Lord, the boy should take the position himself! To think such a thing of me, my word!"

Kamaria stared at the Baron, who she had a sneaking sense enjoyed this far too much, and glanced at Sitara. :Can I run away now? she asked, putting as much entreaty as she could into her voice, :I don't understand anything about what's going on anymore.:

:I suppose I'll grant mercy, said Sitara, fondly, stepping casually forward until she was between the Baron and her Chosen, :But only this once. This is far too amusing to watch.:

But as Kamaria tried to slip away, the Baron's voice rang out. "Oh, Lady Kamaria!" he called over Sitara's back, "How can you leave me like this, alone and bereft of your presence?"

Kamaria slowly turned back. "I…have chores to do, Baron," she said, having really no idea what to say, but desperate to make her escape, "I'm on kitchen-duty tonight."

Or I am now, she decided, If I can get away I'll march straight down to the kitchens and take the duty of the first Trainee I see.

The Baron gave a fluttering sigh, rounded Sitara, and dropped to one knee in front of her, taking her hand. "Then leave me with a promise to return," he said, blue eyes gazing soulfully into Kamaria's face, "Or, at least, to send that most handsome Herald Kenan in your place."

Uh? Kamaria thought, unable to articulate anything close to words. Unfortunately, her next thought tumbled out of her mouth before she could take control of it.

"You're shaych?"

The Baron fluttered his eyelashes at her. "Ah, you have discovered the deepest secret of my heart!" he whispered conspiratorially, "Tell not the ladies of the Court; they would surely dash themselves from the battlements should they learn, but do tell your handsome teacher; his eyes enchant me so! Farewell, milady, and until next we meet!"

And as quickly as a snap of the fingers, the Baron vanished, leaving Kamaria's hand stretched out in front of her where he had been holding it.

She tried to formulate her thoughts into words for nearly a minute before giving up entirely, turning to Sitara, and shoving the jumbled mass of incoherent emotions down their mindlink. :…! Sitara!

:I'm right here, Chosen, said Sitara, turning her head to look at Kamaria, :And I wouldn't pay any attention to what he says about the Court ladies or lords; the Baron beds both.:

Kamaria choked on her own saliva. Sitara Sent the mental equivalent of a raised eyebrow. :What? It's true! He's in and out of a dozen beds in a week-well, not actually, but that's the reputation he cultivates. Don't be fooled by him, darling; he's one of the sharpest minds in the Court.:

"Then why does he act like-like such an idiot?" blurted Kamaria, in utter confusion.

Sitara shrugged, and trotted away down the paths.

Remembering her mental promise to herself, Kamaria went towards the kitchens. Even if she didn't understand anything that was going on right now, at least the food she served wouldn't ask her questions or spout inane poetry at her.

Oh lord, that chapter was insanely fun to write. Anyway, I promised you an explanation for why I didn't update for so long and, dear readers, I keep my promises. Please read the entire thing before you review, however. I don't want misunderstandings.

When I posted the last chapter, I had had several unexpected delays. Yes, I had thought I would be able to get more done over the summer, but you know what? I was wrong. I don't have Foresight; I can't tell when writer's block will strike, when I have commitments, etc. I tried to make the last chapter extra-long to make up for it and warned you guys that I was going to be gone most of August, but…

I ended up getting a spate of reviews that either ignored that I have not finished my rewrite yet, or whined about what was, essentially, "How dare you go have a life? Me want story!11!"

I look forward to getting reviews, and yet when I open those sorts of whiny little messages it makes me feel…I don't know…gypped. I have deleted several reviews that I considered offensive, and I won't say much more about this, except what I've wanted to say for about two months.

Excuse me? You read this story that I put up in my spare time and then whine about me going off to have fun and oh noes!11! NOT UPDATING? Newsflash! I do have a life! I have commitments, and as much as I would love to totally say 'screw those' and sit down and write every minute of every day, I can't do that.

I'm not really mad at you (and this does not apply to all of you, most of you are WONDERFUL) but when I get reviews like that…it puts me off writing. If all I'm going to receive after I postpone a chapter update to rework it and make it better before uploading it later is whining, it makes me…not really want to write.

I'm not asking for slavish, mindless praise. The constructive criticism is a beautiful, beautiful thing (although please stop talking about the plot inconsistencies until I finish the rewrite, I know they're there!) and I love it, but all I really want to say is…please, stop whining at me? I can't take whining.

Thank you for taking the time to read my self-centered little rant. I just felt like I needed to indulge in some whining of my own there. Anyway, I hope to get the next chapter up soon, though what with homework and all (headdesk) I can't really make any promises.

And I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I liked writing it! And I do love you all very muchly, even if my rant made it seem like I don't. I do. Really I do. I just don't like the whining. If you are truly offended about what I wrote there, I'm sorry, I just had to vent, and for Chapter 54 only, I will accept a review filled with ridicule and scorn. (sigh)

I really do appreciate your reviewing. And…well…toodles!