Chapter Two

"Lady Jocelyn! Where have you been?"

Jocelyn brought herself up with a guilty start as she breezed into her rooms. She had been out riding since her earlier encounter with Morgana and had not a single thought in her head beyond the joy of galloping across the field outside the city walls with her groom struggling to keep up. Turning, she encountered the stern gaze of her governess who was sitting before the fire, arms crossed firmly over her plump chest. Jocelyn attempted a winning smile.

"Mistress Coulthard, I am sorry. I did not know you were here."

"A likely story, as if I were not here every day at the same time. Now sit down, we must begin our lessons."

Jocelyn frowned at her patronising tone of voice and went to take off her jacket. Refusing to follow previous instruction of changing from her old riding habit into something more appropriate for her lessons, she returned to the room and threw herself down in the chair opposite Mistress Coulthard with a bad grace, still frowning.

"Now, to begin – "

It seemed they were never to begin however, as Mistress Coulthard's words were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Jocelyn called, eager to be interrupted.

Morgana had barely paused for the summons and entered the room quickly.

"Jocelyn, I have talked to Uther."

"Again?" Jocelyn asked, expecting another tirade against the king.

"Yes, I know, so soon." Morgana admitted the unusual event sarcastically, but was keen to continue with her news. "I have asked him and he says you can go."

"Go where?" Morgana had Jocelyn's full attention now but she was entirely confused.

"To the feast!" it was clear Morgana thought she had managed to procure a treat for her little sister.

"The feast?" Jocelyn replied blankly.

"Yes, for Lady Helen. And he says you must meet her when she comes as well."

"But, Morgana – "

"Why are you wearing that old thing?" Morgana gestured towards the dress Jocelyn had worn down to the stables. "You will have to change, quickly. I'll find Gwen."

On the words Morgana disappeared from the room, happily calling for her maid.

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Before she quite knew what she was about, Jocelyn found herself dressed and being propelled firmly towards the hall. Morgana was striding along beside her, hair and dress flowing, a picture of perfection, despite the rather militant expression on her face, and Gwen hurried along behind them.

Resigning herself to her fate, Jocelyn decided she might as well know what she was expected to endure.

"Who is Lady Helen again?" she asked, one hand concentrating on dislodging a hairpin that was pressing directly into her scalp.

"Camelot's finest singer apparently." Morgana replied, absently.

"And she's here now – because?"

Morgana threw her an impatient glance. In her sister's opinion, Jocelyn was the most oblivious person in the whole of Camelot. "Celebrating twenty years without magic?"

"Oh, yes. Twenty years." Jocelyn relapsed into silence. Though she hadn't had any personal experience with magic herself, she did find it hard to sympathise with Uther's harsh view.

The three women reached the bottom of the stairs and, when she had taken the time to smooth the front of her dress and dislodge Jocelyn's hand from her hair, Morgana signalled to the guards to open the doors for them.

Entering the room it was clear they were the last to arrive, apart from Lady Helen herself. They walked slowly down the middle of the room until they came to Uther sitting on his throne and bent to sweep him identical curtsies, Jocelyn wobbling only very slightly.

The King inclined his head towards them and addressed Jocelyn directly.

"Well, Jocelyn, and I hope you are happy to join the court." Jocelyn found herself thankful that she was not expected to conjure a response, Uther continued to speak. "Your sister informs me that you are quite old enough to be allowed to attend and I hope you will not disappoint us."

Jocelyn's eyes widened slightly at the concealed threat. Bobbing a small curtsey in acquiescence, she stepped to the side to stand by Morgana and allow Uther to resume his conversation with his knights. She raised her eyebrows at her sister who merely smiled slightly in response, used to the King's attitude.

Half an hour dragged past and still there was no sign of Lady Helen. The conversation around the hall was desultory to say the least and even Uther had lapsed into brooding silence. Jocelyn sighed and rolled another look about the room.

Leaning closer to Morgana she whispered, "Well, this is thrilling."

Her sister smiled but motioned for her to be quiet. Jocelyn sighed again and moved back to stand up straight, shifting her weight slightly to the other foot as her legs grew tired.

Ten minutes later, she was ready to throw all caution to the winds and make good her escape, but, as she cast about for a good route, the doors swung open and Lady Helen was, finally, announced.

The woman who appeared in the doorway was beautiful, dark haired as was the wont of the ladies of Camelot and richly dressed in billowing purple folds. Uther stirred himself to stand up and walk to her, taking both her hands in his and kissing them.

As the pair began to utter insincere and lavish compliments, Jocelyn shifted impatiently to the other foot. Finally they stopped cooing over each other and Uther turned to make introductions. Morgana managed to murmur something about how glad she was to be afforded the chance to hear Lady Helen sing, before Uther turned to Jocelyn as if he'd forgotten she existed, let alone was standing with him in the hall.

"Oh, and this is my other ward. The Lady Jocelyn."

Lady Helen extended her hand and Jocelyn took it, curtseying slightly but not finding anything to say. The singer smiled her knowing smile and passed on to greet the next dignitary in line. Jocelyn leaned forward slightly so she could watch Helen's progress about the room. She frowned, thinking that there was something distinctly odd about that woman.

Soon afterwards, however, all thoughts of mystery were driven from her mind as Lady Helen was conducted to her chamber and the greeting ceremony was over. Jocelyn left the hall as quickly as possible and made for her own rooms, hoping against hope that Mistress Coulthard had left and she would have an uninterrupted evening.

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