Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of the characters. It's a sad life....

A/N: I always thought Tamara was an interesting character. We get Mel and Savona's side of the story in the books, but never hers.

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Russav and I had another tiff the night before the farmer girl arrived, and with good reason on my part. At the Orbanith ball, I came off the dance floor after a waltz with Vidanric and headed straight for the refreshments table. Having danced six dances in quick succession, I was terribly thirsty – though the Waste Spell could instantly remove any signs of sweat, it couldn't prevent the body from sweating in the first place. Copiously, too, in the crowded and hot ballroom. As I glided over to the long side table for a glass of ice water, I just happened to pass close by Russav. Well, fine. Not quite by accident. I hadn't danced with him since the opening waltz and wished to see what he was up to. Plus he was conversing with a gaggle of debutantes who hung on his every word. Silly girls, to inflate his ego so! He's lucky I deflate it from time to time, I thought, wanting to roll my eyes but knowing that I couldn't in public. If I didn't, he'd be unbearable and everyone would hate him. Ah, my own altruism amazed me sometimes.

In my soft dance slippers, I walked quietly enough that he didn't notice as I cut towards him.

" – even lovelier than Lady Tamara?" I heard one of the debutantes ask him archly.

"Ah, my lady," he replied in a gallant tone, taking her hand. "Even Lady Tamara Chamadis's beauty dims in comparison to your magnificence." He pressed a kiss to the hand, the owner of which blushed and giggled nervously.

What! How dare he insult me behind my back? He, whose gift of rubies I was wearing in my hair at the moment! They had been a Name Day present from him, years ago when we'd first begun to court or flirt. Whatever it was we did. Sometimes I couldn't understand our tangled relationship, and I doubted he could either. But still – even if we were only flirting – even if we weren't serious about each other – how could he say something like that behind my back?

Luckily I'd been at court long enough to suppress the desire to rip his rubies out of my hair and fling them back at him. One by one. Hard. Instead, like a good courtier I continued on my way to the drinks table. Neither Savona nor the girl had noticed my passage.

"Hello, Tamara."

I looked from the contemplation of all those neat rows of crystal glasses to see Meliara standing on the other side of the table with her brother.

"Meliara." I curtseyed and quickly lifted a goblet of water.

She curtseyed back, Branaric bowing a second too late. He'd never caught on to court ways the way she had.

"It's a splendid ball, isn't it?" Meliara asked politely.

"Yes, splendid," I agreed with equal civility, sipping at the ice water and scanning the dance floor out of the corner of my eye. Savona was now dancing with the girl, a graceful, smooth polka that made me grip the goblet tighter. What was it that attracted me to that inveterate womanizer anyway?

Meliara followed my gaze and opened her mouth to speak, but Branaric beat her to it. "I say, the debutantes are very pretty, eh?"

"Yes." And if I were queen, I'd banish all of them from court.

Perhaps reading my thoughts, Meliara nudged her brother and glanced at me. After giving her a bewildered look, which she answered with a frown, he bowed to me. "Lady Tamara, might I have the honor of this dance?"

"Of course." I swiftly divested myself of my glass. "The honor is all mine, Lord Branaric." Yes, dancing would take my mind off – other things and cheer me up. Nothing like showing off your beauty and grace to regain your self-confidence. Anyway, Savona and I played this game often. He'd come back to me. He always did.

As Branaric and I spun out onto the dance floor, though, I felt a slight annoyance at his sister – first for perceiving my discomfort and second for attempting to assuage it and third – to be perfectly honest with myself – third for winning Vidanric's heart and a crown when I couldn't. And briefly taking Savona from me. And being merciful when I tried to ruin her reputation. Really, how boring it was to associate with such angels!

So I thought while I whirled with Meliara's brother and smiled my sweetest smile, careful to look as if I were having the time of my life. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nee watching us with a slightly worried air. Good. I must be succeeding. Trishe was frowning. Huh. As if I'd try to seduce my cousin's husband! I did have some morals – and besides, he wasn't even a good dancer.

As the polka ended, Branaric bowed over my hand with a dazzled expression that gratified me. Let Savona see how popular I was!

"Thank you for this dance, my lady."

I smiled back flirtatiously. "Thank you, Lord Branaric."

And then I was claimed by Deric for the next dance, followed by Lornav and Alcanad and Vidanric again.

"Your beauty doth teach the candles to burn bright," he observed with one of his faint smiles, paraphrasing a line from a play everyone at court had just seen.

I slanted a look at Savona. He was now dancing with Meliara. "You are too kind," I simpered, knowing that Vidanric wouldn't get any wrong ideas about my intent – he raised an eyebrow in his cousin's direction, knowing quite well that I was flirting with him for fun only. And as a reminder to Russav that I had my own power at court independent of his regard.

"Nee won't thank you if Bran sighs after you," Vidanric warned. He hid a smile. "Neither will I if my first act as king is to station guards around Chamadis House to protect you from jealous wives."

I widened my eyes in mock surprise. "You do me too much credit, my lord! How can a dance seduce a husband from his loving wife? Besides," I added ruefully, "if I didn't dance with any married men then two-thirds of the good dancers would be off limits."

"A tragedy indeed," Vidanric agreed. He brought the dance to a conclusion with a spin and bow. "Thank you."

I swept him my best curtsey. "Thank you."

And so went the rest of the ball. Plenty of dancing, even more flirting, and smiles for all the men there save Savona.

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The next morning dawned much too soon for my liking. As a bar of sunlight fell across my pillow to glare in my eyes, I groaned and turned over in an attempt to fall back asleep. No such luck.

"Kerael!" I snapped, knowing that she'd be hovering within earshot. "How many times do I have to tell you to make sure the drapes are shut all the way?"

My timid mouse of a maid appeared immediately, bobbing curtsies and stammering apologies.

"Never mind! Just bring my breakfast!"

Flopping back onto my pillows in the most undignified manner – no one was there to see – I glared up at the ceiling. When I was little, Mama had hired a famous painter to cover the walls of my suite with murals of landscapes. Railings and trellises painted in the foreground gave the illusion that the walls were balconies opening out onto the peaceful countryside. Each wall of my sleeping chamber depicted a different season – the tender greens of new leaves and soft pastels of delicate spring blossoms deepening into the deep blue hues of the summer sky and lazy cattle in verdant fields, which in turn blended into orange and red and gold leaves and V's of geese overhead, fleeing the blue- and lavender-tinged snowbanks, lit here and there with yellow light from farmhouse windows. The ceiling was one spectacular, glowing sunset. I loved my room. It had Mama's touch; I had changed nothing about it since the day Galdran Merindar arranged a "riding accident" for her.

Here came Kerael with my breakfast tray and morning paper. Certainly some of my fellow courtiers would have been surprised to hear that Tamara Chamadis cared for such serious reading, but I'd always held that knowledge was power. Besides, the fashion column generally reported on my apparel. There's nothing quite like seeing your tastes praised in print.

Once I'd finished my pastry and cup of chocolate, my maid returned to help me dress. Trishe had suffered a fall earlier in the week, so riding parties had temporarily ceased; instead I would be walking in the gardens with my friends.

"Not that dress." Kerael had offered me a deep blue gown that reminded me too much of the last time Russav and I strolled together along the more secluded lanes, just the two of us, arm in arm. I banished the memory. "The red one."

Carefully stepping into the cream-colored silk skirt edged in delicate lace from Colend, I fastened it tightly at the waist. Next came the deep red silk overdress, with more lace cascading from the sleeves and stylized cranes embroidered in cream along the hem. A hat trimmed with a deep red ribbon and a matching fan completed my outfit, and thus attired I set out to recapture Savona's interest – or at least make him very, very sorry he had ever withdrawn it.

Close by the fishpond I ran into Meliara and a young woman I had never seen before. The girl wore a linen gown, as favored by the more prosperous farmers – a new servant, perhaps? But they walked side by side. How odd.

Once we'd all curtseyed, Meliara satisfied my curiosity. "Lady Tamara, may I present Ara Vestuk? Her family saved my life last year."

Ah yes. Meliara had mentioned that once at a party. She'd fled Remalna-city on a stolen horse and been foolish enough to let the horse carry her to some random farmhouse.

"I am pleased to meet you, Miss Vestuk," I said, resolving to be nice to the girl for Meliara's sake.

The girl's eyes had widened at my name. "Lady Tamara!" She looked ready to faint. "You really are as beautiful as they say you are!"

That was reassuring, if surprisingly blunt. "Why, thank you. You are too kind, Miss Vestuk."

The three of us began to stroll along a lane towards the rose garden.

"Ara has the loveliest garden," Meliara explained to me. "I thought she might like to see the roses here."

"Of course." I nodded in understanding. "Isn't 'Ara' derived from the ancient word for 'rose'?"

"Yes, my lady. My mother always calls me her rose."

Meliara was looking faintly relieved. Why would she need to be relieved? Did she really think I'd embarrass her by giving her guest the cut? Life! Sometimes people only thought the worst of me! Besides, the farmer girl was rather sweet, in an eager, admiring puppy-dog way.

We had reached Athanarel's rose gardens. Pausing under a blossom-laden trellis, I swept an arm around us, gesturing at the profusion of rosebushes. "Behold the rose garden of the Calahanras family." Swirling my fan into the Homage position briefly towards Meliara, I continued, "The last Calahanras queen had an especial liking for roses, so her husband the king created this for her."

Again, Meliara seemed surprised. "And the Merindars kept it once they'd taken the throne?"

"But of course." My fan moved smoothly into Irony, a gesture we'd all used frequently under Galdran's rule. "The first Merindar king planted his blood-soaked banner in the very center of the garden, where the Remalnan flag now flies." Unable to resist a dig at the queen-to-be, I added, "The last Calahanras ruler, while a decent man who loved the arts, was rather less successful at ruling than he was at sponsoring artists. Hence the rise of the Merindar Dynasty." The Calahanras family was certainly good at losing crowns.

Meliara was silent.

Ara Vestuk, who'd kept respectfully but impatiently quiet, now begged, "Oh, but can we walk around and see the roses some more? They're so pretty! I never knew there were so many kinds in the world."

I smiled indulgently at her. "Of course, Miss Vestuk." Delicately snapping a pink rose from a nearby bush, I tucked it into her dark hair and admired the effect. "There."

Her face had lit up at my gesture. "Thank you, my lady!"

A quick glance at Meliara showed a wary expression on her face. Nee had doubtless warned her to equate my each action with one of self-interest. Well, I couldn't see how a farmer girl could be of any use to me, but one never knows. At the very least, her open admiration for me was a salve for my poor ego, crushed so heartlessly by Savona the night before.

Once we'd finished our turn about the rose garden, I led the way back out towards the swan pond. On the way, who should we run into but Savona himself, accompanied by a few other lords? I gave him my chilliest curtsey, deliberately turning my attention to the others. If Ara had looked as if she might faint when she saw me, she looked about ready to drop dead now. Her cheeks had turned even pinker than the rose in her hair and she stammered out barely coherent greetings when Meliara introduced them. With a sly glance in my direction, he bowed over her hand with the greatest elegance possible and kissed it sensuously.

I gripped my fan until its edges cut into my palm. No, no, no.

Still holding her hand, Savona gave the peasant girl a beseeching look. "I hope you will grace us with your presence for as a long as possible, my dear Miss Vestuk."

The girl was blushing even more furiously and had progressed to new heights of incoherence. "I – I mean – thank you, my lord, I mean, your Grace," she stuttered.

How could that be at all attractive? I fumed silently. Savona was the biggest fool who ever lived. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was to find some very secluded path to turn onto, all alone, so I could kick at pebbles and shred leaves without anyone seeing. Curse Meliara for inviting a serf to the royal palace, curse the peasant for not knowing her proper place, and curse Savona for encouraging such folly! Meliara had grown up in the middle of nowhere, but he ought to know better!

I hid all these thoughts with a dazzling smile. "Ara, my dear, let us continue on our walk. There is a corner of the gardens that you simply must see. Shall we, Meliara?" I didn't need to see Meliara to know that her expression would betray concern and distrust. My words had effectively precluded the lords from following us.

She recovered well. "Yes, I'd love to show her the moonflowers we have here," she said and smiled warmly at the lords in farewell.

As we continued on our way, I had already determined my course of action. I wouldn't sabotage Meliara's little guest – I owed Meliara that much – but I would take Ara Vestuk under my wing and show the Duke of Savona just what a gracious lady I was and how much he'd wronged me with his philandering.