Author Note:
YAY its Monday. LOL. I have very little patience and I've probably been looking forward to this post about as much as you have. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and everyone who didn't but still read and maybe added this to their favorites or alert lists. Anyway, before I continue, I just want to give you all a little background info on some of the boys Inara is going to be hanging out with.

Seth of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak: Has an older brother and two older sisters. He is thus, the youngest child of Lord Raoul and Buri.

Prince Jasson of Conte: Youngest child once again, this time of Roald and Shinko. He has three older sisters.

Evan of Jesslaw: A middle child in the Jesslaw family. He is the only son of Owen and one of Lord Wyldon's daughters. He has at least one older sister, and several younger ones, although number has not been determined yet by the author.

Yancy of Nond: To be clear, he has no blood relation to Corin, but is a distant cousin through marriage. (Keladry's sister married into the Nond family, but not to Yancy's father; however, you may see some of Corin's actual cousins turn up in the series as there are quite a lot of them). Yancy has an undetermined number of siblings at this point.

Corin of Masbolle: The middle child of three boys in the Masbolle family. He gets his attitude mainly from Dom, while his older brother is more like his mother. The youngest, well, no one knows where his temper comes from.

Asten of Hollyrose: Only child of the Hollyrose family. His mother died after giving birth to him.

Samuel of Tirragen: He is the great nephew of Alexander of Tirragen. He is the grandson of one of Alex's younger brothers.

Benton of Naxen: Duke Gareth the elder is his great grandfather, Duke Gareth the younger is his grandfather. However, he is the third son born to Gary's second son, so he is not the heir to the title of Duke.

Wow, didn't realize they were so complicated. Anyway, read and enjoy.

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Morning came too quickly, or at least that's what Inara thought. Her bed was comfy after a night at a way house, and being in the saddle for two days. For the first time in her life, Inara slept in until the morning bell rang. It called everyone still in bed to wake up. She was usually up just before dawn, but her father's advice to sleep in just once because it was the last chance she'd have had made her sleep. She always took her father's advice to heart.

The first thing she noticed was that she had a banked fire, and that someone was knocking at her door. Quickly, she pushed herself out of the bed and went to answer it in her nightshirt. It was Lidia, who curtsied and came inside. Inara closed the door behind her.

"Good morning, Lady Inara," Lidia remarked as she began to build the fire and boil the pot of water she'd brought with her. "I'll have your bath drawn in a moment."
To both comments Inara just nodded and yawned sleepily. She really wasn't a morning person and when she was ready to have conversations that would be the first thing she would tell Lidia. While she waited for the water to heat up, Lidia laid out some of Inara's personal practice clothes and Inara stretched. The girl knew she'd have to get specific practice clothes from the palace tailors and made a mental note to ask Evan where to go after breakfast.

The page was just finishing a series of ten push ups when Lidia announced the bath was ready. More awake and friendly, Inara thanked her graciously, and apologized for seeming rude. Lidia laughed, explaining that she knew what it was like to live with someone who hated mornings. Her own mother was a bear until after lunch. Inara giggled and bid farewell to the maid as she slipped into her dressing room to prepare for the day.

Inara was brushing her hair out when someone knocked on her door. She tossed it open to find Evan standing on the other side, looking sleepy. She led him into the room and grabbed a ribbon to tie her hair back out of her eyes.

"No kimono this morning?" Evan asked her from his seat on her bed. Inara shook her head and pulled on her practice boots.

"I'm a page. Pages don't wear kimonos when learning."

"Is that what you're going to call this?" the twelve-year-old asked her. Inara nodded this time.

"I treat everything like a learning experience; except supper. That's when I teach all you boys how to be civilized," she told him matter-of-factly. Evan just laughed, reminding her that she was the one who dragged her sleeve through their pudding dessert last night. Inara stuck her tongue out at him.

"So, I thought we'd have breakfast, then go to the palace tailors to get you some practice clothes if you need them," Evan began, getting cut off by Inara confirming that she did. "Then I thought you'd like a trip up to the palace healers. I know your grandfather is there," he told her as they left her room and proceeded towards the mess hall shared by the pages and squires. They weren't the only ones present that morning. Many of the older pages ate quietly, probably wishing they were still in bed. Of the new boys, only Samuel was present, nearly silent, sitting across from his sponsor Corin who was talking a mile a minute.

Once Inara and Evan had their food, they walked over to the table the two boys sat at, and took seats with them. "Don't mind my cousin, Samuel, he doesn't know that not everyone can be as bright and bushy-eyed as he is in the morning," she told the first year. Samuel looked up at her for a moment and smiled slightly, while Corin stuck his tongue out at her.

"Just wait until we're on the practice courts, Queenscove. I'll show you," he told the girl.

"And just what will you show me that I haven't already seen, Masbolle?" she taunted. He paused for a moment, thinking, and unable to come back with something, he shoveled a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. Evan, Inara, and even Samuel laughed out loud.

"So, Samuel ready for your first exciting day at the palace?" Evan asked the boy as the four began to relax a bit.

"Please, call me Sam. And yes; I've never seen it before. It's huge," Sam told them. Evan just nodded, and went back to finishing his meal.

Inara, was done before either of the older boys, but she sat patiently waiting for her sponsor to finish. The minute he did however, she tugged on his arm, until he conceded.
"She's like a little puppy," Corin told Evan as he prepared to leave. "You just can't say no to those eyes." Inara just shot him a glare and followed Evan to put their trays up and then out of the mess hall doors.

"Palace tailors?" Inara asked, skipping along beside Evan. He paused and eyed her carefully.

"You are like a puppy," he laughed and nodded. "Do you think you can walk? Your energy is making me nauseous." Inara just nodded and fell into step beside her sponsor.
The palace tailor was not the big adventure Inara had made it out to be. A gruff man made her stand still while he spun a cord around her shoulders and hips, barking orders to a small boy assistant who disappeared into a storage room and came out with three sets of practice clothing, three set of the palace red and gold uniform, a pair of dress shoes and an extra pair of boots. The tailor shoved the whole mess into Inara's arms, and shooed her and Evan out the door.

"Did you have fun?" Evan asked, mocking her.

"Shut up," Inara quipped.

The two of them returned to the pages wing so that Inara could store her belongings, and then proceeded onto the healer's wing, Evan pointing out rooms of interest and what places to avoid as they went, making sure that Inara knew what direction they were going in, and that she could repeat the names of the places they passed. At last they arrived at the main infirmary, and went inside. A skinny woman sat at a desk, a tablet in front of her.

"What's this? Two pages already. You two don't look like you've fallen down."

"We're here for a social visit," Evan told the clerk. She looked at him as if a social visit to the healers was a complete joke. "Really, this is Inara of Queenscove, his grace's granddaughter."

Inara bowed to the woman who made kind of an annoyed sound but disappeared into the rear rooms anyway. She returned a moment later behind a tall man. His brown hair was graying a bit, and his green eyes were darker than both her own and her fathers, but as most of the Queenscove family did, he had the same nose as the two of them.
"This is a surprise," the Duke told the two pages, motioning for them to sit. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just wanted to come visit, grandpa," Inara told him, hugging him swiftly before taking a seat. "This is my sponsor, Evan of Jesslaw," she added, remembering the older boy who had brought her. Evan bowed and sat once again. Duke Baird nodded acknowledgement. Together the three of them talked for a while, the duke asking questions about her travels and the fief, and of her brothers.

"Is Papa around?" Inara suddenly asked her grandfather. The duke shook his head.

"I didn't need a lot of help here, so your father went to Port Legann for a few days to help Lord Raoul and Lady Keladry, before going on to your mother," he told her. Inara nodded understanding, still slightly disappointed that he was gone. "He wouldn't have left if he thought you couldn't do this without him," Duke Baird told her, reading her face correctly. Inara just smiled, and hugged her grandfather. "Alright, well, I have work to do. And remember, I only want to see you for social visits, young lady," he added. "Page Evan," he nodded to the boy, hugged his granddaughter once last time and drifted back to his work.

"He's nice," Evan told Inara as they left the infirmary. Inara nodded, deep in thought. Was the duke right? Did her father really have that much confidence in her? She tried to push the confusing thoughts out of her head as much as she could while Evan led her around the palace, showing her everything from class rooms, to practice courts, the different dinning halls, including the large banquet hall where the pages would serve the royal family and their guests at Midwinter.

Inara's morning was filled with a jumble of mental maps as she struggled to organize her mind so she would know how to find her way around.

"Now remember, if a noble asks you to run an errand, you have to do it, no matter if you're running late. Most typically don't ask much of us because they know we're busy, but it's a sure thing that you'll have to run a few errands before your time as a page is up."

"What about the older pages?"

"Well that one's tricky. Most of the hazing ended when our parents were pages. Da told me that he and his friends patrolled the halls trying to bring it to an end." Inara nodded. Her father had told her the same thing, and her aunt Kel had confirmed it. "However, if an older page asks you to do something simple, it's better to just do it than cause trouble. They still have a bit of the earning your way tradition about," Evan finished as he led the way back to the pages mess for lunch. There were even fewer pages in the hall than had been there at breakfast, so Inara and Evan took a seat in the back corner by themselves.

Half way through the meal, Inara realized Evan was staring at her. "Is there something in my teeth?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. Evan just shook his head.

"Just wondering what your story was; I told you how I got here," he told her. Inara nodded, understanding what he meant. A female page was still a rarity in Tortall, so it usual meant some story was behind each individual girl who tired for her shield. Lady Alanna had disguised herself as a boy because she didn't want to become a proper young lady and her twin brother wanted to be a sorcerer. Lady Keladry had spent six years in the Yamani islands watching women warriors and even her mother perform great deeds. She'd vowed to do the same. Lady Norina and her older sister had entered page hood together after seeing Lady Keladry joust as a squire. Both had been inspired by the squire's bravery. However, the older sister, Fianola quit when approached by the Queen to become one of the Queen's Ladies. Now it was Inara's turn.

"There has always been a Queenscove knight in every generation since the Old King ruled. Only the Naxens have had more than us," Inara told him. "I've always had a certain – papa says it's called aptitude – for physical combat. I want to serve my country, and I want to keep a Queenscove knight in service to the crown."

Evan stared at her for a moment. "You want to be a knight for traditions sake?"

"No, I want to be a knight for the sake of protecting our realm. Tradition is just a pleasant side effect," Inara said, defending herself. She didn't like anyone implying that knighthood was not something she really wanted. She'd heard it once from her father and once from the training master. She did not need to hear it from her sponsor or any of her other fellow pages. Evan saw the determination on her face and nodded, turning his attention back to his meal.

The finished eating in silence, before Evan resumed giving Inara a tour of the palace, their conversation at lunch mostly forgotten. He was relieved to see that Inara wasn't angry with him. He relaxed a bit more, and Inara finally noticed that he'd left the book he'd had the first day in his room.

Evan finally left her at her room about two bells before supper. "You think you can find the mess hall on your own tonight?" he asked her. Inara nodded as she unlocked the door. "Alright; I'll meet you there. Don't be late or Lord Padraig will give you punishment work," he added. Inara nodded and waved him off. She left the door open as she wandered inside. Signs of Lidia being there were everywhere. Her room was spotless and the bed perfectly made. The page sighed and began putting away her new practice clothes and boots. As soon as that task was done, she went to the clothes press and pulled out a Tortallan style cotton dress in lilac. She held it up as she studied herself in the mirror. She held one end of the skirt and twirled, giggling slightly.

"Told you she'd crack; not even one day in and she's acting like a girl," a cruel voice drawled from outside her open door. Inara froze and dropped the dress, looking towards the hallway. Four boys stood there. Two she recognized as being her year mate Hakim and his sponsor Lorrence. The other two boys were new to her. Both were third year pages, like Lorrence. One had a cap of nearly snow white hair. His eyes were a brilliant green, even brighter than her own. He glared at her, but didn't say anything. "That's right whore, I'm talking about you," the voice drawled. The squawking was coming from the fourth page. He had short red hair and narrow brown eyes so dark they could almost have been black. Hate was written all over his face. He took one step closer to her.

"I didn't give you permission to enter my room," Inara spat at him. He had called her a whore. It was evident that he didn't mean to do her any kindness. Shockingly the boy stopped, but he was still sneering at her.

"I don't need permission from a slut," he shot. Inara took the insults in stride. Her father had warned her that boys would use her reputation to convince her to go home. This one and his friends hadn't even waited until the first day of actual training to begin their tormenting. "But you bore me," he added before she could say anything. With that, the boy snapped his fingers and the started down the hall, the other three following like a gaggle of ducklings. Inara slammed her door shut, angry, and went back to her dress that she'd dropped.

For a few moments she glared at it, blaming the dress for the encounter. Slowly she got her emotions under control once more. She stooped and picked up the garment and went to place it back in the clothes press. "They need to be reminded that you're a girl and that you aren't ashamed of it," a voice that sounded very much like her aunt whispered in her mind. Inara paused and glanced at the dress again. The voice was right. If she didn't wear the dress than those boys would know what they said had gotten to her. She wasn't about to let that happen. Instead, she took the garment as well as a slip and dark purple stockings and went into her dressing room to change for supper.

Inara was on time to supper. Four boys weren't, including Seth of Goldenlake. The training master gave all of them one bell of work in the smiths on Sunday afternoon as punishment. All four took the punishment silently, bowing to Lord Padraig and raced to get their suppers.

"Couldn't go more than one day, could you Seth?" Yancy asked the older boy after Lord Padraig had said the evening prayer. No one noticed the man who came in while they ate to join the training master on his dias.

"Of course not; got to make sure I stay well ahead of Hollyrose," he replied. Inara and Evan ate with the same group they had the previous night. Only Prince Jasson and Benton were missing. Evan explained that while Jasson was part of their group, he continued a tradition started by his father of sitting at different tables every night, at least at the beginning of the year, so that no one felt he gave favor to anyone in particular. Inara understood that. Jasson felt it was even more necessary for him than it had been for his father because of the foreign blood that ran in his veins. Just looking at the prince would tell even the stupidest idiot that the boy was half Yamani. It also didn't help that Princess Shinkokami had had difficulty getting pregnant at first and that once she did, the first three babies had all been girls. Jasson loved his older sisters dearly, but he knew the kingdom wished they had been boys.

"You're only ahead of me for now," Asten replied. Inara laughed. She liked these boys. They were silly.

By the time supper ended, Sam and Inara were pestering the older pages about training, claiming to be too excited to not ask. Corin and Asten, groaned, knowing they would be dawning their weighted harnesses for the first time the next day and not looking forward to it at all. Yancy and Evan, victorious third years, just listened quietly. The new pages would learn soon enough. Seth ignored them all, and it was a good thing, because he was the only one at their table to notice that the quest had stood up in front of them all. He nudged Corin sharply, and the younger boy's exclamation of pain was enough to get everyone's attention. They fell silent along with the rest of the pages in the hall.

"Good evening," King Jonathan began. His hair and beard were a pepper color, although Inara knew they had once been coal black. His blue eyes twinkled with good humor. Inara knew the look of a good king when she saw it. Her aunt Kel claimed that not all good kings were good men, but Inara would form her own opinions of him in time. "I won't keep you long, as I know tomorrow is the start of a very busy year. I just wanted to have a look at you." He studied them for a moment. "As you all know, Tortall has finally settled into a period of peace, following the death of King Maggur of Scanra. It is a time to rebuild and take heart in people around us. However, that does not mean we value our knights any less. You are our future, and there will be a time when you will be called to aid your country. I hope when that time comes that you will confidently take up arms and serve us well. Now go. Get some sleep. Lord Padraig assures me that he will work you like dogs tomorrow."

Before any of the pages knew it, he was walking out the door and they were all scrambling to bow. Inara stood watching the spot where he'd stood when his eyes met hers. She couldn't figure out if he'd sought her out purposely or if he'd looked at each and every one of the pages like that, but she knew there had been meaning in his gaze. Inara didn't have any time to contemplate it, as Evan had grabbed her arm and was dragging her towards the exit. "You heard his majesty, Queenscove. Lets get some sleep."

Inara yawned as she stirred her porridge with a spoon. On one side of her, Seth nibbled on the last few pieces of his roll. Evan was reading again. Prince Jasson, Benton, and Yancy were debating the practical uses of the lance in modern Tortall. Only Sam picked at his food the same way as Inara did, only every time he brought the spoon to his mouth, his face turned green.

"Better eat up, first years," Yancy told them. "You'll need the energy."

Inara nodded and shoveled a bite into her mouth. Breakfast might have been the most important mean of the day, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. Sam copied her, not looking at all thrilled as the half liquid meal flowed down his esophagus. He gave Inara a look that said he'd rather be eating squid. She grinned back, knowing what he meant.

"They're trying to kill us," Asten complained as he and Corin trudged into the mess hall.

"It's only two pounds, Hollyrose," Seth told the younger boy who glared at him. Corin looked to weak to glare as the second years grabbed their food and joined the rest of the group.

"So, Evan's room tonight?" Prince Jasson suddenly asked. All the older boys nodded agreement, accept Evan.

"Why mine?" he pouted, joking. "I'm sure the prince must have much nicer quarters."

"Because we always start the first week in yours, Jesslaw," Yancy remarked. "Next week will be mine," he added.

"What are you talking about?" Benton finally asked getting annoyed that the older boys were leaving them out.

"Study group," his sponsor replied. "We get together after supper in one of our rooms to work on the assignments we're given." The others nodded agreement, confirming the prince's statement, before reminding the first years to eat once again. Corin made a comment that sounded very much like "they'll learn."

With breakfast finished, Inara and her fellow first years followed the older pages onto the practice courts outside.

It was warm for September, but for the moment that warmth felt good against Inara's face. She took inventory in her mind of their first practice field, including how they had reached it so she would remember in the future. She would have continued looking around if she hadn't suddenly been jostled violently by a passerby. When she looked around, she saw the retreating back of the page who had insulted her the night before. He turned to look at her, a sneer across his features. Inara just sighed and shook her head. He'd figure it out sooner or later that it didn't matter what he did. She was there to stay.

Inara started jogging again, catching up to her fellow pages as they filed into the center of the practice court. Two adults stood at the center; one looking like a Yamani; the second was a female who looked too old to be an instructor. They were greeting each of the pages, while they waited for the slower individuals to catch up. Once they were all present, the tall Yamani man turned to look each individual in the eye.

"Line up!" he ordered. The older boys didn't hesitate to obey. Prince Jasson even dragged Benton into line beside him, releasing the boy from the stupor that had engulfed him at the sight of the large, smiling, Yamani man. Inara hurried to do as he commanded and nearly managed to trip over her feet.

The large man walked up and down the line that the pages had formed. He paused directly in front of Inara and looked her over. She felt his eyes boring into every aspect of herself and had to resist the urge to gulp in fear. "Got another one, Eda," he called over his shoulder to the woman who was seated on the wall.

"I wish my lord would warn us," she commented back, but the man had already moved on. Inara relaxed a bit. Finally, after he'd walked the entire line of twenty pages, he returned to the center of the practice field.

"My name is Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse. Behind me is my partner, Eda Bell, the Shang Wildcat," the Yamani man told them. "Do not take her lightly," he added almost like an afterthought. "We will be your instructors in hand-to-hand combat," he told them. "You older boys will work with the Wildcat for today. First years, follow me," he finished, leading Inara and her year mates to a corner of the practice court, while the older boys immediately flocked to the Wildcat as instructed. It seemed no one hesitated to obey either of the Shang instructors. With in minutes of their dispersal, Inara heard the older boys practicing a series of blows and blocks. She immediately turned her attention back to the Hakuin.

"Who can tell me what the first lesson of hand-to-hand combat is?" the Yamani asked the group in front of him. None of the boys ventured an answer; Benton looked as if he was going to be sick when the Horse's eyes fell on him. "No one; Surely one of you has an answer?" He seemed to be getting annoyed at their silence as he began to pace back and fourth in front of them. "You," he suddenly snapped, stopping directly in front of Hakim. The boy jumped, thoroughly startled.

"I – I don't know," he stated, looking down at his shoes. Hakuin shook his head, obviously unimpressed.

"Name?"

"Hakim ibn Ahbar, sir," the boy told him.

"Next time you will at least venture a guess when I ask you a question, Page Hakim. I will have none of this 'I don't know' business. Now, how about you?" his eyes had shifted toward Inara. "What is the first lesson of hand to hand combat?"

"Falling, sir," Inara replied, meeting his gaze with one of her own. He looked her over and nodded.

"Correct. Name?"

"Inara of Queenscove, sir," she replied confidently.

"Next time I ask a question and you know the answer, you will not hesitate to respond, Page Inara, for whatever reason." He looked as sternly at her as he had Hakim.

"Yes sir."

"Good." He quickly demonstrated what he meant for the pages. He flipped in the air and landed on the ground, slapping it with his palms as he fell. "Now, since you knew the answer, you will be the first to try it," he added standing up and walking back over to them.

"Don't let this one try to throw you, Seastone." Eda Bell had taken her eyes off the older pages to see how the first years were doing. Now she grinned down at her partner who waved her off. She went back to her business, whistling as she went.

"You won't try to throw me, will you?" he asked Inara in Yamani. Surprised by the question, Inara didn't answer out loud for a moment, but only shook her head. Remember her manners, she quickly bowed politely.

"No sir," was her reply in Common. He seemed to accept her answer as truth and held his hand out to her. The moment she gripped it she felt herself flying through the air over his knee. She just barely remembered to tuck and roll, slapping the ground as had been taught by her mother.

"Faster next time, Page Inara. But good first try." The Shang told her, offering his hand Sam as Inara made her way back to the line. Benton was watching her nervously and Hakim was glaring at her. She sighed, and ignored him. By the time she'd properly fallen eight or nine times, their first lesson was over, and Inara's hands were raw. Evan came to collect her, leading her on to their next lesson of the day.

"Weapons," he told the girl as they approached the field. "Think you can stand getting her hands whacked?"

"It's not my hands I'm worried about," she said as she eyed the barrel of practice staffs between Lord Padraig and a tall Bazhir man.

"All right men," Lord Padraig began, ignoring Inara all together. She didn't mind. She was happy to sink into the background. "For our first years, this is Sir Zahir ibn Alhaz. He will be assisting me in teaching you all the use of weapon combat. Today we start with the staff," he told them, motioning to the barrel. "Come and get one. Once you're ready, form a line."

The boys and Inara did as they were told. Inara found herself lined up between Seth and the blonde boy she had seen the night before. He didn't look at her, but Inara made sure her attention was on her instructors in front of her and not the boy beside her, despite her curiosity.

"Gilyith of Marti's Hill, and Jasson of Conte," Lord Padraig named two boys from the line. Inara studied the boy called Gilyith. He was the red head who had insulted her the night before and shoved her this morning. He warranted watching. "You will demonstrate for us. Gilyith is attacking, Jasson is blocking." The boys nodded and bowed to him, before taking positions across from one another and bowing to each other. "Start with the high-strike-high block," Lord Padraig instructed. The sound of wood striking wood filled the practice court. "Again," the training master commanded. He had the boys do three more before setting them to showing the middle-strike-middle-block and then the low-strike-low-block. He then split the pages up, sending Sir Zahir to make sure the older boys continued practice, while pairing up the first years. Inara couldn't argue when Lord Padraig placed her across from Hakim. Luckily, the taller boy didn't try anything all lesson, but stuck to the drill Lord Padraig set for them. The training master walked up and down their lines every once and a while correcting the positioning of their hands or feet. Several times Inara blocked wrong and got her fingers crushed between the staffs. However, she wasn't the only one, she noticed as the pages went to their next lessons. Even some of the older boys were nursing bruised digits.

"What's next?" she head Sam work up the nerve to ask Corin.

"Archery," he replied. "My favorite," he added, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"That's only because you can't master not bruising your bow arm," Inara told him. The older boys started laughing.

"She's so right," Seth told the younger boy, whipping tears away from his eyes.

"It's not my fault," Corin argued.

"No, but you can be sure you will never be asked to be an archer," Asten told his friend. The other boys agreed.

Sir Zahir was also their instructor in archery. Inara struggled to figure out how the Bazhir knight had gotten to the archery field before they did. Sir Zahir didn't seem pleased at all at her presence, but couldn't find more fault with her archery skills than any of the other boys; although he didn't appear to be paying attention to her as much as he did to the boys. He did, however, request that she be able to hit the center of the target more often by the next week. She was the only one he demanded it of. Inara bit her lip and nodded, realizing it wouldn't just be the pages her tried to make her leave, but some of the adults probably wouldn't want her there either.

The pages raced to their next lesson, Evan and Jasson explained that it was riding and that they had to reach the stables before Lord Padraig to start saddling their mounts or else he made them work in the stables for a bell on Sunday afternoon. Inara didn't like the sound of that, so she ran along with the other boys.

They reached the stable a few minutes before the training master, and the boys with horses and Inara began to saddle their mounts. The girl whispered softly to Hikari as she worked, reassuring the mare that she had been missed. The other three first years hadn't brought their mounts, and Inara watched as Tobeis Boon came to show them the horses they could choose from.

"Are you talking to your horse?" Sam asked when he'd returned, leading a blue colored mare with white socks, mane and tail. When Inara just nodded, he laughed. "So, what do you think? She fits me, doesn't she?"

"Very much," Inara assured him, as he led the horse to an open stall across from Hikari and began saddling her.

The training master arrived just as most of the pages were finishing their task. He looked over the new boys' choices as well as Inara's mare before nodding and leading them out to the practice field. Here he commanded the pages to take the horses through different paces, making sure they could all ride a horse without being tossed off. Inara found the whole lesson boring and more than once had to stop herself from yawning.

When they were done, she stabled and groomed her mount along with the others and would have followed the boys to the baths if Lord Padraig hadn't grabbed her shoulder. "You bathe in your room, Page Inara," he reminded her. Blushing, Inara nodded and turned as he walked off. If she went around, she'd have to rush. Instead, she sighed remembering the short cut her aunt had told her about and she ran up the hill that was the most direct line to the pages wing. With luck, she wouldn't pass out before she reached her room.

Lunch was over before Inara realized it had even begun. She was exhausted and had nearly fallen asleep in her bath, twice. At least her hands, which had become completely raw over the course of the morning, no longer ached. But this was only because they had gone completely numb, making it difficult to maneuver her utensils to feed herself. It wasn't the first time that the girl wished she had acquired her family's healing Gift. As much as she wanted to, she knew it would be a bad idea to ask Lord Padraig to visit the healers so she could regain the use of her hands. She had a feeling he would tell her that only girls had such soft hands that they would require a healer after the first morning.

"Doing alright, Narie?" a mocking voice said in her ear. Inara glared up at her cousin, who roused her from the nap she was slipping into. "You're falling asleep over you lunch," he added, highly amused. Most of the boys had begun to file out of the mess hall. She was alone with Corin.

"I'm fine," she retorted, getting up and following him as they put their trays up. His face went serious as they prepared to leave.

"Inara, if this is too much for you, your father will understand. You don't have to put yourself through this."

"I'm not putting myself through anything, Corin. I can handle it. I just have to get used to it," she replied, not sweetly, but not angrily either. She knew her cousin was only trying to look out for her. Corin patted her shoulder and nodded understanding, although he still thought she was crazy and said as much. "That may be so, but there's no law against crazy girls having a knight's shield," she replied. "Lead on!"

Corin laughed and guided the girl down the hall, steering her into their first afternoon class. The Mithran priest, Master Jinu, who taught the pages reading and writing didn't seem to take it as truth when Inara explained that she knew how to read and write very well. He wasn't satisfied until she'd proven herself by reading a three page passage from a book of Tortallan War poetry and then copying the whole thing out in perfectly neat hand writing. He then assigned her two more poems from the book and asked her to write a one page essay comparing the two for the next day.

Next class was math. She didn't have to prove anything there, because she didn't know much. At least not much of the complicated stuff Master Ivor called algebra. He set the class to solving three long problems during the lesson. By the time the bell rang to send them onto their next, Inara had only completed two and was assigned an additional two more to do before the next lesson.

"Two down, three to go," Yancy told her as they walked to their next class. Inara nodded, following the steady stream of boys in the red and gold uniforms of the pages. While they wore their plain practice clothes to morning lessons, they were expected to wear their traditional uniform for afternoons and when serving at banquets.
"What's next?" she asked the boy. Evan had disappeared as had Jasson, Seth, and Sam.

"Are you Gifted?" he asked her. Inara shook her head. Besides her mother, she was the only Queenscove not to have inherited the Gift. She often wondered if her brother Baird had stolen the power meant for her. "Then you're off to study magic with the rest of us giftless," Yancy informed her as they entered the next classroom. Inara looked around the classroom. Of their group, she, Corin, Benton, Asten, and Yancy were all giftless. Gilyith, Hakim, and Lorrence were present as well, but the blonde boy that Inara had learned was Thorville of Linden must have been among Gifted students. A few other boys were missing, but it was obvious that a majority of the pages weren't gifted.
A tall man with dark hair swept back into a horse tail stepped into the room accompanied by a woman several years younger than he was. She had long, curly brown hair that ran down her back. Following her was a small dragon about two and a half feet long, with another foot and a quarter of tail. The immortal's scales were bluish green with hints of gold. Her silver claws clacked against the tiles as she entered the room and pulled herself up onto a stool at the front of the room which had obviously been set there for her.

"That's Master Numair Salmalin. The woman is his wife, Mistress Daine Sarrasri, the wildmage, and her dragon, Skysong," Asten whispered to her. He was seated beside her in the classroom. Inara nodded as she continued to stare at the dragon.

Inara thoroughly enjoyed the lesson that followed their entrance. She was intrigued by the abilities of the young dragon who, according to Daine, was still an infant, and would be for many more years to come. By the time the class was over, Inara had forgotten her exhaustion and was even more pleased that Master Numair didn't assign any work for the next class.

The five of them met up with the other four on the way to the next class. Inara was surprised that the class was not held in a classroom in the pages wing but several levels up where some of the realms knights had rooms. The younger pages followed the older boys down the hall and into a large unlocked study. A fire roared in the room's hearth, and nearly twenty-five chairs and desks formed an almost full circle in the middle of the room. The boys instantly took seats. Inara and the other first years copied them. A connecting door to the study opened and the most ancient man Inara had ever seen in her life walked in, using a walking stick to help him. He was even older than her grandfather. Two of the older boys attempted to help the old man to an empty seat near the door, but the man held them back with a cane.

"I'm not old enough to need your help," he told them, amusement in his voice. The boys smiled and retook their seats.

"When will you be old enough?" Jasson asked him. The man looked at him and smiled.

"Maybe tomorrow," he replied, settling himself into the seat the boys had purposely left open for him. "Would any of you care to tell me why the open seat keeps moving closer and closer to my bedroom door?"

"Because you're old," Asten replied without hesitating. Inara's eyes went wide, expecting the man to rebuke the boy, but he just smiled.

"Quite right," he laughed. "Now, where to begin? I trust you all had good summers?"

"Yes Sir Myles," the boys replied in unison.

"Excellent. Excellent. Now who can tell me where we left off?"

History was just as interesting as the class on magic had been, even though Sir Myles of Olau looked like he should have been tucked into a nice warm bed instead of sitting in a stuffy classroom discussing the Code of Chivalry with twenty pages. Unlike magic, however, Sir Myles set them to write a one page essay on the Code of Ten by the next class, before sending them on their way to Etiquette.

After the last two classes, Inara expected the next class to be enjoyable as well. Her illusions were dashed almost the moment she stepped into the ballroom where Master Oakbridge held class for the pages. He too was an elderly man, but no where near as old as Sir Myles had been. He was also the most boring man she had ever encountered in her life, except when he thought something was going incredibly wrong. Then he freaked out, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Inara once again did her best hide yawns as she was forced to practice bows alongside the other pages, both first years and the older boys, who Master Oakbridge felt could use some reminding. He made them practice both Yamani and Tortallan until even the most dense of them all couldn't have forgotten the differences. At last he promised to quiz them the next day, meaning they would have to practice before hand, and sent them off.

"Come on, Queenscove. You look dead on your feet," Evan told her, steering her off to her rooms. "I'll come back and get you before dinner. We can't have you falling asleep and being late."

"I must have had a bout of insanity when I decided I wanted to be a page," she remarked to him. Evan just laughed, leaving her beside her room. Inara thanked him, wondering if she would have made it there without his help, as she let herself into the room.

Supper that night was as much of a blur as lunch had been. As soon as they were dismissed, Inara found herself seated on the floor of Evan's room, the door open because of her presence, between Sam and Benton, trying to finish Master Ivor's math problems. She had actually managed to finish her essays for Master Jinu and Sir Myles, and was on the final math problem, thanks to help from Seth, who appeared to be a mathematical genius. After a few more calculations, she put down her abacus and lead, and stood up to stretch. The bell rang to tell all the pages it was time to stop working and go to sleep. Sighing, she made Seth promise he'd look at her work over breakfast the next morning and silently promised herself she'd practice her bows before lunch, before bidding her friends goodnight. The other boys also proceeded to pack up, but it was Asten who left with her. His room was just across the hall from her own.

"So, how was your first day, Queenscove. Learn anything new?"

"That free time is a joke?" Inara asked him. He laughed and shook his head at her.

"Corin was right. You're cute. Just like a puppy," he told her.

"So glad I amuse you," she replied before saying goodnight and slipping into her room. She'd managed to survive her first full day as a page; Unfortunately, she hadn't survived by much, she thought as she surveyed her body. She was exhausted, her muscles ached, and there were several blisters on her hands. And lucky me, I get to do it all over again tomorrow.

The next few days followed the same pattern. Inara woke up, went to breakfast, where her friends then proceeded to drag her off to morning practices. She learned how not to get her fingers whacked in weapons practiced, and despite the fact the she began to hit the center of the target during archery, Sir Zahir continued to find things wrong with her form. Once Corin had to stamp his foot into hers to keep her from talking back to him. She was still the weakest page in hand-to-hand combat, but Eda Bell had given her some advice, specifically that she should practice arm exercises during her so called "free time." Inara had thanked her, and mentally tried to figure out where to fit the exercises into her daily routine. The only class she excelled at was horsemanship. Lord Padraig was never able to find fault with how Inara and Hikari worked together, and he even gave her a compliment the fourth day of classes.

Her other classes were a different story all together. Despite having finished all of her extra work the first night, the Mithran priests who taught reading, writing, and mathematics did not seem pleased. In fact, Inara was almost certain that they wished her to fail, and began assigning double the work. By the third day of classes, Inara was helplessly behind in her class work for both classes. The only classes that remained enjoyable were her studies in magic, which never assigned extra work, and history, where she always made sure she completed her assignments.

Etiquette as always was boring, and after full days of running around and then burning her mind dry, she often found herself day dreaming or nodding off when she should have been practicing bows or working on how to write formal invitations. At least she wasn't the only one, or the only first year.

Despite the exhaustion, Inara was determined to remain a page at the palace. Her mind was made up. Nothing anyone could say or do would change that. She was repeating these things over and over to herself as she walked back to her room to get her books to meet at Evan's room on the first Sunday afternoon to catch up on some of the work she hadn't completed during the week. It would only be about half of their group. Seth, Asten, and Corin all had punish work to take care of and Yancy and Benton had actually managed to finish their extra work. This meant that only Evan, Inara, Jasson, and Sam would be meeting, and she was very late.

Not paying attention, Inara missed the puddle of oil in the middle of the hallway. She skidded as first her right, and then her left foot hit the oil and she went flying down the hall, landing on her back at the foot of a page that stopped her momentum.

"Thanks," she muttered, wincing at the pain in her back as she stood up. She looked up and jumped as her green eyes met the brown ones of Gilyith of Marti's Hill. He was glaring at her as usual. She heard laughter and looked around, spotting Lorrence, Hakim, and Thorville off to the side, a jar of oil resting in Lorrence's hand.

Suddenly, Gilyith dropped the stack of papers he was carrying. The sound startled Inara's attention back to him. "Pick them up," the older page commanded. Inara just stared at him. "Are you stupid as well as a slut? I said pick them up."

"No," Inara replied steadily. She turned her back preparing to walk back down the hall toward her own rooms when she was jerked back as Gilyith grabbed her hair. She immediately latched on his wrists to prevent any of her hair from being yanked out as he pulled. She dug her fingernails into the flesh between his bones making him release her. She turned, stepping to the side to avoid the oil slick. When she was finished here, she'd have to tell Salma about it so no one got hurt. Angry, Gilyith lunged for her, but she side stepped, causing him to slip in his own trick. Lorrence and Thorville came forward to grab her arms. She couldn't shake the two larger boys off, but she managed to kick Gilyith in the face, as he tried to get near her. Her heel met his eye, knocking the boy backwards before she felt someone grip her. Hakim had slipped up behind her and grabbed both of her legs. She was helpless as Gilyith advanced once more.

"You're worse than a slut, half-breed," he hissed before driving his fist into her nose. She heard the cartilage break. "You make me sick," he added, and drove his other fist directly into her gut knocking the air out of her lungs. The other three boys released her, letting her fall to the floor as her lunch came back up. Gilyith came near her as she rolled onto her side, ready to kick her in the ribs. She summoned her last bit of strength and dragged the unprepared page off his feet. He fell so quickly that he forgot the first rule of hand-to-hand combat, and his head hit the marble flooring. By that point, servants had heard the commotion and were racing toward the pages. Lorrence, Thorville, and Hakim fled before the servants could identify them, but Inara and Gilyith found themselves brought up before Lord Padraig.

As the older boy left the training master's office, he shot a glare at Inara. She was pretty sure he would have spit on her if a servant hadn't been standing right beside her, beckoning her into the office for her own turn before Lord Padraig. Inara ducked her head as she entered the room.

"Look at me," the training master commanded. Inara did so. She could have sworn she saw him wince at the sight of her bloody and broken nose and split lip. Too bad he can't see the bruise I'll have on my stomach in a few hours, she thought. "So, what happened?"

"I fell down, my lord," Inara told him simply. She didn't even bat an eye. She was sure he'd heard it before.

"Several servants have told me you were fighting with Page Gilyith?"

"They must be mistaken, my lord. I'm quite sure I fell down." Twice, she added, mentally to herself. She owed Gilyith for this, as well as his friends.

"Fine," the training master told her. "You will work in the laundry for three bells next Sunday afternoon. And I want a one page essay on the code of chivalry by Tuesday at supper. Inara tried to bow in response, but barely got far before pain made her freeze. "Go see the healers. Your nose is definitely broken, and one of your ribs may be as well."
"Yes my lord," she said, knowing she was dismissed. Carefully she walked out of training master's office. She'd only gone a few steps when she realized that she'd forgotten how to get to the healers, and she didn't want to ask Lord Padraig for directions. She had no other choice but go to Evan.

She reached his door and knocked. "Come in," came Evan's voice from inside of the room. Inara pushed the door open. "About time you got here, Queenscove. We're just about finished with Master Ivor's math problems," he added before looking up at her. "Mithros! What happened to you?"

"I fell," she told him.

"And I'm sure it was the floor that broke your nose," Jasson retorted. "You should be at the healers."

"My lord granted me permission to see them, but I couldn't remember how to get there," she confessed.

"Alright, we'll take you. Sam, you'd better come too, in case you need reminding," Jasson told the other first year in the room. Sam closed his book and followed the two older boys and Inara down the hall.

"Who was it?" Evan asked her as they walked.

"Who was who?"

"The person that helped you fall?" he clarified. Inara gave him her best dummy impression.

"No one; I just fell," she insisted.

"Leave her be, Jesslaw. She's got too much pride to tell us who it was. We'll just have keep an eye out for someone else with new bruises tomorrow," Jasson called over his shoulder. "You did at least bruise him right?"

Inara smiled and nodded a bit. Gilyith would have a nice black eye for a few days. He hadn't broken anything in the fight, so he wasn't entitled to a visit to the palace healers. She couldn't wait to see how he explained the color around his right eye. Some how "the girl did it" didn't sound like a likely excuse for him to use.

The four pages entered the infirmary together, Evan and Inara ahead of the other two boys. The lady from the first day was behind the desk once again. She looked at Inara and shook her head.

"Will you be needing a healer this time or should I tell his Grace that you're here for another social visit?" she asked the girl.

"I need a healer. Lord Padraig says my nose is broken and one of my ribs may be as well," Inara replied steadily. The woman nodded and beckoned for the four pages to follow her into the back rooms.

Duke Baird was sitting at a desk, writing on a piece of paper, when the pages entered. He looked up only when his clerk was gone, leaving his "guests" in her stead and frowned the moment he saw Inara.

"I thought I told you I didn't want to see you for anything but a social visit?" he told his granddaughter sternly, but not unkindly.

"I fell down," she replied, her voice nearly a whisper as she stared at her feet. Her chest was really beginning to hurt.

"I was just finishing a letter to your father. Shall I include this specific visit in my correspondence?"

"Oh, grandpa, please don't. Yell at me all you want, but please don't tell Papa I lost," Inara begged. She wanted to throw herself at the Duke to prevent him from adding to the letter, but she was in too much pain. Duke Baird moved slowly around the desk to look her over.

"I thought you said you fell?"

"I did."

"You lost to the floor?"

"Yes sir," she replied stubbornly.

"That's her story and she's sticking to it, your grace," Jasson told the head of the palace healers. Duke Baird smiled and nodded to him.

"Of course it is. She's just as hard headed as her father. Alright, young lady; let me see you," he told her. The three boys waited while the Duke fixed her nose and her split lip. He moved his cool hands over her ribs. "Not broken, just bruised," he told her, and began to let his Gift work on her ribs. She put a hand to his stopping him.

"I believe my Lord Padraig only wished for you to heal what was broken, grandpa," she told him.

"And I will tell you the same thing I told your aunt Keladry after your father brought her to me when she had her first fight," he replied. "If the training master sends you to me, then what I heal and what I do not heal is at my own discretion."

Inara sighed and let her grandfather do what he pleased, relieved that the pain was leaving. Unfortunately she was also getting sleepy, and she still had a lot of work to do. "See to it that she gets to bed," Duke Baird told Evan, Sam, and Jasson, who nodded and led the girl out of the infirmary.

The next day at breakfast everyone knew Gilyith of Marti's Hill had been in a fight with someone. Only Inara's friends knew that she had been the one to blacken his eye.
"I can't believe you only kicked him in the face," Corin told her, as they ate.

"I would have done more if his friends hadn't been there. It was four on one; a totally unfair fight."

"Gilyith doesn't fight honestly," Yancy told her. "You'll never get him in a fair fight."

"Well, then I'll just have to figure out how to beat him in an unfair one," Inara told them.

"You could ask for help," Jasson reminded her, but Inara shook her head. Getting Gilyith to lay off her was something she had to do for herself.

"At least tell us what it is he said that set you off?" Corin begged her. "You usually go at it with words, not your fists," he added, reminding her. Inara sighed and looked around. Her eyes fell on Jasson in silent apology.

"He called me a half-breed and a slut," she told them. "I can handle the slut part. I knew people like him would probably try to get to me that way, but I didn't expect him to attack my mother."

"Or mine," Jasson hissed.

"No, Jasson," Inara grabbed his arm as he jerked himself away from the table, pulling him back into a seated position. "He's only saying it to get me upset. He wouldn't dare call you a half-breed, so don't even think about stepping in," she told the prince. When he glared at her she added "Please?" which got him to nod and turn back to his breakfast.

The rest of the meal was spent trying to come up with ways that Inara could solve her problems with Gilyith.

The rest of the week went by just as the first one had. She never caught up on her extra work, and Sir Zahir kept insisting she could improve the way she held her bow in archery. She got one more bell of punishment work from Lord Padraig for being late to lunch because Duke Gareth of Naxen, Benton's grandfather, had caught her in the halls and asked her to fetch a note to the Lord Magistrate for him. She knew better than to argue with Lord Padraig about that one. If she did, she would have only gotten more bells of work and then she'd be in more trouble with her class work than she already was.

Gilyith and his friends never caught her alone over the course of the week. Inara slowly started to notice that it was because one of her friends was always with her, escorting her wherever she needed to go, even waiting outside her room to walk with her to meals.

They always had some type of excuse: they had a question to ask her; they needed her help with class work; they wanted to know something about the Yamanis. Corin even went so far as to tell her he missed her on their way to lunch when he'd just seen her thirty minutes before.

Part of her was annoyed by their behavior, but it was a very small part. As she left her room after lunch Sunday to work in the laundry, she wondered just what exactly she was going to do about Gilyith and her friends.

Author Note:
Alright; so this chapter is seventeen pages long and chapter one was fourteen; YAY for extensions. Anyway, chapters 3-5 are also typed and have been pre-read like 3 times each, so they are definitely ready for posting, and chapter 6 is about half done… or rather it may be a very long chapter and then it'll be only a quarter done. We'll see.
Also, just so you all know, I wanted to write this very much like a Tamora Pierce book, so be prepared for jumps in time and not for this story to be taken one day at a time. After all, I have to fit at least 2 page years into this story.

Remember, I love reviews. Please don't be shy.
Fateless Wanderer