A/N: So, yeah, I'm writing this not long after posting chapter 12. My plot gremlins and are going mad, and you guys get to reap the rewards.
Thanks: quickreader93, The Booknerds, Leopara and NinjaGirl012
Quickreader93: Thank you so much! I love your stories, so I'm really glad you like this one!
The Booknerds: Francesca is about 17; she'll be 18 in her fourth-year. I'll try and do better about being clear on the character's ages.
Leopara: Kyprioth couldn't block the other gods from finding Aly, if you remember. Mithros and the Goddess found her; he just blocked scrying, and Alanna and party's prayers. I'm not totally sure HOW it will play into the story, but I know it will.
Francesca avoided everyone but the servants that worked at her family's townhouse for the rest of the summer. Several times Alan and Fianola attempted to come and see her – she didn't know what Milli or Ava told them, and she didn't particularly care. When it came time to move back into the page's hall, she fully expected one or both of them to confront her. She was right.
The knock on her door seemed to be just a formality, as two seconds afterwards Fianola opened the door, she and Alan stalked in and stared at her. Francesca, sitting on her bed, blinked at them. She idly wondered what would have happened if she'd been changing clothes. The thought was embarrassing enough to her, that she didn't ask the question; instead she said to her friends.
"Typically, it is custom for the inhabitance of the room to open the door," She told them dryly. "I'm not quite sure how or why that is custom," she shrugged, "but there it is."
"Yes, well," Fianola shot back. "If you hadn't been avoiding us all summer, mayhap we wouldn't have to barge into your room."
"I wasn't avoiding you," she argued, Alan snorted, and Francesca amended the statement. "I was avoiding everyone."
"Why," he demanded, Francesca refused to meet either of their eyes, focusing once more on unpacking. She knew that she drew attention to the issue by not answering, but she didn't have an answer, at least not one she was will to give.
"Do you realize, that when you don't answer," Fianola commented in an overly calm voice. "It just makes people want an answer even more." Francesca sighed and rubbed her forehead.
"Look," she said facing them. "I realize that it may seem odd to you, but there are some things in my life that I don't share with anyone. Even if there was someone present and they wanted to talk about it. More than that, I had a lot of thinking to do. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do, but I'll have to figure it out soon," Francesca moved to her door. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, there's something I need to take care of." Both squires exited her room, but they didn't walk away. Francesca knew a pointless battle when she saw one, so ignoring them she went to Liam's room. Her year-mate answered the door, raising his eyebrows at the three of them.
"They're following me," Francesca told him. "I think because I didn't answer some question."
Liam just nodded, and stepped aside and let the three of them in.
"You didn't see who pushed me off the cliff, did you?" Francesca did not beat around the bush.
"No," Liam seemed frustrated by that fact. "But I know that it wasn't Marrek."
"I know that too," she assured him. "Liam, you're my friend, aren't you?"
He seemed surprised by the question; "Yes, of course. Why?"
"Don't try to find out who pushed me," Francesca began. She didn't get farther, because her friend's outrage overpowered her words. They were all talking over each other so she could not make out who said what, though she did hear the phrase 'Could have been killed!' many times. When they quieted enough, she glared at them.
"First off," Francesca told them testily. "Fianola, you and Alan are squires. You have no business getting into fights with pages. For any reason," both looked like they wanted to argue. "Second, Liam, this is not your problem. I appreciate the fact that you want to help me, but this is my problem. Not yours, or Traver's, or yours," once more she glared at her squire friends. "Let me deal with the problems in my life, if I need help, don't you think I'd ask?"
All of her friends were silent for a long time, before Alan spoke up. "No, you wouldn't. The only reason you came to us when you got pounded last year was because you didn't know where the infirmary was." Francesca blinked in shock. "Be honest, if you hadn't needed to see the healers, would you have just let us find out the next morning, when we saw you at breakfast?" Francesca instantly wanted to deny that she'd do that, but she didn't. Thinking about it, she realized that they were right, and this wasn't the first time it had been pointed out to her.
"Your right," she told them quietly. "I wouldn't ask for help. But my point stands, I don't want any of you to get involved in this." She cut them off when they started to protest again. "No, listen. If someone was willing to push me off a cliff, they must have realized that I could have died. If they would go to those lengths, why wouldn't they attack you?" She left them with that thought.
Later, when she stood with Liam, Traver, the other senior pages, and the training master, as they all inspected the new pages; Francesca felt a cold sweat breakout over her body. One of the new pages was a cousin on her mother's side. She couldn't remember if this cousin knew she was a seer, and vowed that if one of her friends didn't take him as a sponsor, she would.
When Lofren offered, Francesca cut in. "May I, my lord? Ersken and I are cousins," silently she prayed until the training mast agreed. Her cousin – Ersken of Arenaver – stared at her, in complete confusion. The other pages and the training master strode down the hall. Francesca and her cousin regarded each other wearily.
"Aunt told Mother you were dead," her younger cousin told her. Francesca snorted at that.
"No, just doing something she doesn't approve of," she began to walk down the hall, motioning for her cousin to keep up.
"I don't understand," Ersken told her shaking his head.
"My mother and I do not get on," Francesca told him.
"Not that," he said shaking his head again. "Mother said that you got the Sight, since it skipped your mother and brother. She said that you were a seer, but how can you be, if you're in page training."
"Not so loudly," Francesca hissed at him. She stopped outside the mess hall and faced her cousin. "Listen, you can't mention that around here. Okay," he looked like he wanted to question her, but she opened the doors and strode in. Ersken followed closely behind. When they took their seats, to Francesca's dismay, Ersken picked up the topic again.
"Why can't I mention that –" he paused at her glare and amended his statement. "What Mother said?"
"Because," Francesca told him, somewhat stiffly. "While your mother spoke the truth, I don't care. And if you bring up the issue, I will ensure you regret it," she glared at him until he gulped and looked away. When Liam and Traver glanced at her, Francesca shook her head and muttered, "Later."
During dinner, Liam and Traver talked to Ersken, making him feel welcome, since Francesca dropped the ball on that. One of the first things they asked was how he and Francesca were related.
"My father and Francesca's mother are sibling." He told them easily, "Are mothers' have been friends for years as well. Since the convent."
"Do women really stay friends after leaving the convent?" Traver asked sounding shocked.
"Why wouldn't they," Francesca replied. "I can easily see remaining friends with a few women that I befriended there."
"Yeah," Traver scoffed. "But you -" Liam shoved his elbow into Traver's ribs and the other boy stopped talking.
"I, what," Francesca demanded, eyes narrowed. Traver shifted uneasily, clearly realizing that whatever he'd been about to say, might insult her.
"You," he hesitated, and then continued. "You're not exactly like normal girls, are you?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. Francesca just stared at him, shocked.
He clearly didn't realize that many of the friends at the convent only went because their families made them. It was a noble daughter's duty to please and act in a way that retained the honor of her family. In that way, Francesca realized, no, she was not like many other girls. She didn't care much what her family thought. She was not now, nor would she ever be, the person her family wanted her to be.
Her father had wanted another boy, her mother a seer daughter that 'understood her duty to her family and the realm'; if you asked Francesca, she was doing her duty to her family and the realm. Her mother did not agree. Shrugging, Francesca simply told her friends:
"Perhaps you're right," and continued her meal. Afterwards, she, Liam and Traver showed Ersken around. When they were in the portrait gallery, Francesca, after making sure they were alone, turned to her cousin.
"Why did you enter page training," she demanded, clearly shocking all three boys. "Your older brother is already a squire, so why? You need not do so to maintain family honor," if they noticed the mocking tone she used on the last two words, Ersken ignored it.
"Because, it's the best way I can think to serve the realm, and do my duty to my family." Francesca smiled slightly, though she was much older, she had always had a soft spot for her younger cousin. They thought alike.
"Good," she told him, arms crossed over her chest. "Then you understand why I did so as well, despite being a seer. Are you going to tell someone," she challenged, Ersken met her eyes without flinching.
"It's your business," he told her calmly. "Besides, Father says arguing with seers about choices and the future is useless, and will give you a headache." Francesca chuckled a bit. Her uncle was one of her favorite relatives, though she rarely got to see him.
"How is Uncle," she asked lightly as they continued the tour of the palace. The rest of the time was filled with stories from her cousin, and the three older pages pointing out places of importance.
As November approached, nobles began to drift into the palace, Francesca didn't really care, she focused on her plan for the four pages that'd caused her accident. One Sunday, she was exercising in her room, and fine tuning her plan when someone knocked on her door. Opening it, she was Ersken and Traver; she let them in and decided that she could take a rest.
"What were you doing," Ersken asked.
Francesca quickly explained her exercise routine. Rain chose that moment to wake from his nap on her bed. Francesca moved over to the bed and sat. Only to jump back up immediately, she's felt something small and squishy under the covers. Pulling them back, Francesca grimaced. Rain had left her a dead rabbit as a treat.
"As much as I appreciate the gift," she told the bobcat. "Stop leaving dead animals in my bed!"
Grimacing she picked it up by the ears. A glance at her guests reviled that they were trying to decide between finding it hilarious and being horrified. She, sadly, was used to it. She'd given up screeching in shock after the fifth dead animal in her bed. Leaning out the open shudders, Francesca tossed the creature away. She considered talking to the wild mage; maybe she could get Rain to stop 'gifting' her dead animals.
Rain, giving her a baleful look, leapt from the window and trotted to where the dead rabbit now lay. Turning her back to the window, Francesca observed her friend and cousin trying to stay in their seats, while laughing hard enough to leave them gasping.
"Does he do," Traver gasp, "that often?"
"Often enough that it's annoying," she shrugged, as their laughter was renewed.
"Well, well," a familiar voice drawled, and Francesca had to fight back a grin. Turning to the window, she saw the speaker; a well-dressed lady in a stunning mint green gown. A bit away from her stood a knight, they looked enough alike to be family. "They'll let all types into the palace now, won't they?" she sneered prettily at Francesca, who'd moved until she could see the outside courtyard perfectly.
"I suppose they will," she countered. "After all, you're here, aren't you?"
"You always did think you were clever," the lady sniffed.
"Cleverer than you, at any rate." Francesca shrugged. "Not, that that's saying much."
The woman's mouth twitched slightly. "Don't you know? Ladies don't have to have brain, so long as they have looks." She gave Francesca an arched look. "No wonder you chose this path."
It was a fight now, for both of them to not grin. Even more so, because Francesca's friends, and the knight began to stir, clearly thinking that they should step in. "You're right, I am much more suited to knight's training. I enjoy using my brain. Though I must commend your teachers! To have so many thoughtless women to deal with and they still teach every one of them to talk and converse! And you, a prime example!"
"Now see here," the knight snapped, moving forward. Francesca and the woman burst out laughing.
"Draw," the woman asked, still laughing.
"Draw," she agreed, vaulting through the window to greet her friend. "It's good to see you Aisha!"
The two women embraced; stepping back they held each other at arm's length to study the other.
"You look beautiful, as always," Francesca told her oldest friend.
"As do you," Aisha complemented. "Page training seems to agree with you." Her voice and expression were wistful.
"As convent training agrees with you," she replied slyly. Aisha glared and made a rude gesture at her. Francesca laughed, and belatedly both women realized that a knight and two pages were staring at them in shock.
"Brother," Aisha smiled prettily at him, and dragged Francesca closer. "May I present my dear friend, Francesca of Nond. Francesca this is my brother, Sir Faleron of King's Reach."
"It is an honor, sir knight," Francesca felt cautious. Aisha was forever trying to match-make her friends – she'd always threatened to try and get her brother to fall for Francesca, so that they would be sisters. With most people, Francesca would know that it was a joke, with Aisha, you just weren't sure.
"It is an honor, Lady Francesca," the knight said with a small bow.
"No lady, sir knight," Francesca corrected. "I am merely a page." Turning back to Aisha she added. "May I introduce my friends," she motioned for them to join them in the courtyard. "Lady Aisha, this is Traver of Mindelan and Ersken of Arenaver, my cousin. Both are in page training with me." Rain, unnoticed until that point leapt at Francesca's chest – his version of jumping into her arms.
"This handsome beast must be Rain," Aisha said, smothering a giggle.
"Or the bane of my existence," Francesca replied flippantly. "No wait, that's something else. So yeah, it must be Rain." The bobcat glared at her, and sat up to lick her cheek from chin to the corner of her eye. Settling back he looked smug; his tongue was rough like sandpaper and hurt. They all stood in the courtyard for a while, Francesca and Aisha doing most of the talking. Finally when Faleron hinted about going, Aisha told him to go, and Francesca could see her back to her rooms. He agreed after a moment's though, Francesca bid her cousin and friend goodbye, as they too left. She jumped back into her room, to close and lock the door, before she and Aisha began to walk back towards the part of the palace that hosted the nobility.
"I don't understand why you don't cut your hair," Aisha told her.
"If you want your hair short, then you cut it," she retorted.
"'True ladies,'" Aisha began, in a nasally voice. "'Do not have short hair!'"
Francesca laughed, "Of course, how could I forget."
"It just seems like it would be simpler," Aisha continued.
"It probably would," Francesca admitted.
"Then," she began, and then stopped to glare at Francesca. "Francesca of Nond," she said sternly. "Are you only keeping your hair long in an attempt to please your mother?"
Francesca didn't answer.
"Goddess bless! Franny, you know that that woman is cold and bitter! Why do you do that?" Aisha demanded, hands on her hips as she glared at her friend. Despite the glare, there was concern in her eyes.
"Drop it, please, Aisha," Francesca sighed. "It's my business, not yours." Though she didn't seem happy about it, Aisha conceded the point. Both women were quiet for a while, and then Francesca began to share with Aisha some of the things' she'd left out in their letters. Aisha knew about her first prophecy, and finding out that Francesca had had a second one, concerned her. She'd always heard that only the most powerful seers had prophecies, and she knew how much Francesca feared and resented her visions. However, that was not the most shocking thing that Francesca shared.
"Over the summer," Francesca told her, in a very subdued voice. "I visited Shakith's temple…I prayed for…" Though Francesca didn't finish the though, Aisha stared at her in amazement. Francesca has sworn she would never ask the goddess for a vision. And yet, she had admitted to going just that!
Aisha knew that there must be a reason, and a good one. She just had no clue what it was. When they parted ways not long after that, Aisha was still trying to reason out what made Francesca pray for a vision – or who.
The next day, Francesca felt tired, but she was determined to not let it affect her work in the practice yards. She was easily the best in hand-to-hand combat. Her staff and sword work, while not the best, was easily past the level expected of a third-year page. In archery, she hit her mark every time – archery was one of the few physical activities that was 'acceptable' for noble ladies, and even that was new. She had best seat of all the pages in riding, and while she was passible at tilting, using weapons from horseback seemed more natural to her.
Riding class had just ended when all of the pages seemed to realize that they had attracted a different audience than their usual one. A beautiful lady in scarlet silk, rested against the fence. To Francesca's amusement, the majority of the boys seemed frozen in awe of Aisha's beauty. Her friend's pale skin and dark hair and eyes glowed with health; the red dress brought roses to her cheeks and made her lips look a soft pink.
Francesca knew that her friend wore no make-up at the moment, she was just naturally beautiful. She amused herself by wondering how many of the squires would spend their free time flirting with Aisha. As she neared the fence Aisha moved closer, inspecting Snowstorm.
"She's nearly as glorious as Night," her friend said in an approving way. Aisha had been extremely envious of the horse.
"I thought so," Francesca peered down at her friend from Snowstorm's back. "Did you came out here just to tell me that?"
"No, I just saw Fredrick and his wife; I wanted to warn you they were here, so you didn't get surprised." Francesca grimaced and thanked her friend. She led Snowstorm back to her stall and brooded while she groomed the horse.
Francesca did not get along with Fredrick, her second brother, though she liked his wife Adalia well enough. Fredrick took after their mother's thinking, and had attempted to shame her into remaining in the convent. Fredrick was her mother's favorite, just as Aiden was their father's. She and Fredrick rarely saw each other, when they did they, usually, managed to be civil, and they never wrote each other. Knowing that, she still wasn't thrilled to know that at one point or another she'd likely run into him.
A/N: So, I'm back and have a sprained ankle, not fun. Any who, just to let y'all know I have realized that I made a small boo-boo, which I'm going back to fix. If any of y'all have heard of the site , then you know that he just finished reviewing chapter 6 of page, if you HAVEN'T heard of the site, go check it out! He's reviewing the Tortall books, and is on PotS right now! But I digress, anyway I remember now that it says that the Nond's have AT LEAST 2 sons, so again I'm gonna fix that.