A/N: Protector of the Small and all characters and likenesses thereof belong to Tamora Pierce. No financial remuneration is being received from this work of fanfiction.
A/N: Thanks to Dungeonwriter for the beta!
Nihil Amanti Durum
But I like being a girl, Kel thought to herself, as she walked away from the palace infirmary, heading for the mess hall. Her shoulder still tingled from the memory of Lord Wyldon's touch.
Once, three years earlier, the training master had told her that he would speak frankly with her, as he would to one of his own daughters. Then, he had been stern, solemn, and authoritative—so much so, in fact, that Kel had doubted to the last that he would allow her to return as a second-year page. Then, she'd never had reason to suspect that he might show more gentleness toward his children than toward his charges.
But now, she had seen a new side of him. True, he was still serious, still proper, and yes, still honorable, almost to a fault. And it wasn't as though she'd never seen him demonstrate caring or concern before, either. But a moment ago, she had detected something else in his demeanor; something she could only describe as affection. She felt a sudden rush of warmth. Despite the prospect of having to redo her page's training, her lips curved into a smile. Lord Wyldon liked her. Her heart rate quickened. Suddenly, the next four years didn't look quite so bleak, after all.