That time came around when they served at the many parties hosted at the palace for midwinter.
Once Kel was finished dressing, she looked into the mirror to check for flaws. She decided that she looked fine at first. After putting her shoes on though, she thought that her tunic was wrinkly and smoothed it out. A third look in the mirror made her re-comb her hair and a fourth made her fiddle with her breeches thinking they were uneven. A fifth look was interrupted by a knock on the door. She looked into the mirror, bringing her fingers up to her mouth to chew on the fingernails and immediately stopped herself. Since when did she chew fingernails? Another knock encouraged her to open it, finally.
When Kel went to open it, she found Neal, Faleron, Owen, Merric and Cleon in their best. They saluted in unison and said "Ready for inspection, ma'am!" in the same fashion with Owen lagging a bit behind.
She ushered them in and made them form a line. At the front was Cleon whose tunic was on backwards. Next was Neal who kept on messing his hair.
"Stop combing your hair with your fingers," Kel scolded, combing it back as she spoke.
"I can't!" Neal protested, worry in his voice. "I'm nervous"
Owen's hem was in threads; he'd been pulling at the loose thread because of his nerves.
"This is not Jolly at all, Kel," Owen, the optimist, said gloomily. "Since when do knights need to know etiquette? I thought it was all about killing the bad men."
Having been forbidden to pull his freshly sewn tunic apart, he kept his hands busy by twirling his thumbs as he sat on Kel's bed.
Merric, on the other hand, looked quite fine- that is as long as he didn't show his teeth. There were bits of food stuck in his pearly whites.
"I am not going to clean your mouth, Merric," Kel said firmly. "Ask Lalasa for some floss or a toothpick at least."
Merric smiled sheepishly.
"Since when did you eat when you were nervous?" Neal asked, resisting the urge to comb his hair with his fingers.
"Since I got this nervous!" Merric said, the same worry in his voice. He dug out chocolate from his pocket and ate the contents. He sat on the bed and spoke to Neal as he chewed. "My cousin is coming this year," he explained. "He's a complete terror! The biggest bully, he is. Almost as big as Joren."
"Joren's changed now," Kel informed them, fixing Neal's hair once more; he finally gave in to his habit. Everyone in the room gasped.
"And how, exactly would you know that, miss?" Neal asked, taking the comb.
"I spoke with him last night. We had a nice conversation over tea," Kel said, hands on hips. A gasp erupted from Cleon's mouth.
"You let Joren in at night?!" Cleon yelled. "What if he wanted to drop poison in that tea! You could've died." He stood up now, waving his arms around.
"Cleon, you're overreacting," Kel said mildly. To Neal, she said "Give that back to me. That's Lalasa's."
"Cleon's right," Owen said, joining the debate. "Joren can't be trusted. No matter what he says."
"I really don't want to deal with this right now," Kel said, trying to get the comb out of Neal's grasp. He just kept it out of her reach. She gave up and said "Seaver, Faleron. You're next."
Seaver had very wrinkly breeches while Faleron had a wrinkly tunic. They were forced to strip off their wrinkly pieces of clothing and surrender them to Lalasa so she could iron them. Seaver wrapped a towel around his waist for the meantime and joined Cleon on Kel's bed.
Neal was the first to notice a very unexpected visitor at the door. (The door had to remain open in respect of Wyldon's rule that was enforced on Kel since her probation year.)
Emerald eyes met icy blue in a staring contest. "Look at what the blizzard brought in," Neal drawled. "Or did you bring the blizzard in, Squire Joren."
Heads turned to see the newcomer at the door. Although he had made amends with Kel, the rest of the group still glared at him as if he was a snake. Seaver seemed to forget that he had a towel on.
"What business do you have here, Squire Joren?" Owen said coldly. He used-to-be one of the targets of Joren's hazing.
"I come in search of assistance with my, er, appearance," he said awkwardly, looking around the room as his eyes focused on Kel. "May I come in?"
They looked at Kel, waiting for her reply. "Yes, you may."
"KEL?" Cleon looked at her as if to say 'are you MAD?' Joren took a step and stopped when a bunch of arguments rose from the pages' mouths questioning her sanity. Joren distinctly heard someone say "Why'd he ask for permission to enter? Only demons ask for permission to enter. And vampires!"
To see what the commotion was about, Lalasa went out of her dressing room. She looked at the newcomer in surprise and curtseyed just enough for a person of his rank. "Welcome back, master Joren," she said timidly.
"He's even brainwashed Lalasa!" Neal exclaimed. Joren didn't know what to do. He just stayed there half inside the room and half outside. Soon, a maid came by, making Joren step out of the way.
"Would you lads please keep it down!" She yelled. "If you don't, I'll tell my Lord that you boys are makin' a scene!" She had an accent that made her almost skip 'r's. Once they silenced, the maid stomped away, shaking her head.
"Kel, please don't tell me that you're friends with this jerk," Merric said, standing up.
"I told you, guys. He's changed!" Kel reminded them.
"And if this is just another sneaky plan to get you kicked out?" Owen argued. "What'll happen? Hmm?"
"He's trustworthy!" Kel said, trying to convince them. "He swore on his honour. Even ask Lalasa."
"Oh, no," Lalasa said, horror in her eyes at the mention of her name. She sneaked back into her dressing room; she did NOT want be involved in this fight.
"He's got no honour," Seaver spat.
"He's magicked you, Kel!" Neal concluded. "That's the sole explanation."
"I have no magic, Neal. You know that," Joren said, very seriously.
"Don't call me Neal," Neal hissed. "Even though Kel says that you've changed, we will never become friends. How could I be friends with a snake?" Neal's usual warm, emerald eyes were cold and fiery at the same time. How could this man just walk in here after all he's done and expect them to forgive him? It was absolutely preposterous!
"Give him a chance, guys," Kel said. She didn't know a hint of pleading slipped through her mask.
"I'm going to get Numair so he can get her out of this spell," Cleon said, blinking at her. He spoke in monotone as if he was shocked.
"I'm not under a spell, Cleon," Kel rolled her eyes at hid absurdity. "Don't you trust me?"
Cleon was moved aback by her comment. How could Kel question Cleon's trust in her? Wasn't it plain for all to see that he loved her? "Pearl of my heart, of course I trust you…" his voice was a whisper. "But," he said, his voice getting louder "I don't trust him." He shot a glare at Joren. He, too, was dressed in his best but he was in green and yellow, the colors of Paxton.
Joren looked down. Was I really that bad? He thought. "Does he always call you such flowery names?" Joren asked slowly. Kel nodded. Joren took a last look around the room and said "I can see this is a bad time…" he scratched the back of his head as he trailed off. "Good evening and good luck." He smiled and left the room. Kel heard some muttering about idiots fade down the hall and in a while, it disappeared with Joren's footsteps.
"You scared him off." No one could tell if Kel's voice held amusement, disappointment or anger.
"What's wrong with you, Kel!" Faleron yelled. "Joren's a bully! How could you trust him!" His voice shook in surprise- or rage.
"I told you," Kel said in an even voice. "He's changed. I'm sure of it. It's this feeling I get around him."
"If you feel this feeling then why don't we feel it?" Seaver asked.
"I still say it's trickery. He might be carrying a charm of some sort," Neal said.
"Enough," Kel ordered. "The ball starts in minutes and Seaver doesn't have pants yet."
Lalasa came out of the dressing room, hearing that it was safe to come out. "Tadaa!" she said, holding the tunic and breeches for them to see. She gave them to Seaver and Faleron and left once again. They gladly dressed. Once they were done, everyone was ready.
"Well, at least Joren has one good use," Owen said cheerily. "He made us forget about how nervous we were."