Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I know it's been a bit since I updated, but here's Chapter 13! I own this idea; not these characters or settings.

Chapter 13: Confrontation

December 441 H.E.

Alanna gently kissed Thom, then Kally on their foreheads. Kally mumbled a little, but neither awoke. Smiling, Alanna nodded her head at the maids as she left the nursery.

She had taken it easy after the twins' birth. After all, many had pointed out that it was the winter months, and with Midwinter right around the corner, why should she strain herself going right back into her physical routines? Alanna had agreed, but only because she could barely stand to be away from her children. When she woke in the morning, she hurried to their crib-side. When she went to bed, the last thing she did was kiss them good-night.

But as dearly as she loved them, she missed her sword. She'd agreed to allow Alex a few months more as Champion, but she'd exercised for several hours each day in secret, gaining back the muscle she had lost during her pregnancy.

Now that the twins were tucked into their cribs for a nap before the Midwinter Ball, she was headed for a solid hour of intense workout.

I wouldn't try it.

"Why not?" Alanna asked, as Faithful slinked after her out of the nursery. "And since when were you allowed back in the nursery?"

Maude convinced them that I wouldn't sit on the children and suck out their breath while they were sleeping.

"Well, that's a relief."

I suppose.

Faithful was not fond of children generally, but he made an effort for Alanna's sake.

Your kittens are not as inclined to tail-pulling as some. A shudder rippled down his inky back as if remembering some distant tail-pulling incident that scarred him for life.

"Who possibly could have pulled your tail? You were a kitten when I found you."

Don't be stupid, Alanna. Faithful's tail twitched. Alanna sighed. She knew that Faithful was something else, something more powerful. A constellation, apparently. But she wanted to know more about the others who he had protected, besides herself.

I'll tell you that I like the name you chose for me best. Does that satisfy your curiosity?

"What were the other names?"

Faithful wrinkled his nose. The most original was 'Cat', he informed her sarcastically. But I also once was Blackie, Sauce, Akasha, Ink, Demon, Ashes, Uirtsaktak— he shuddered again here. I hated that name. Oh, and Pounce, he added. There was a fond note in his voice, as if he had enjoyed being Pounce. Alanna felt a twinge of jealousy. She didn't much relish the idea that she wasn't as special to Faithful as Faithful was to her.

Oh, stop that. The others were only temporary. There's only been one other human I've been stuck with for any large amount of time..

"What does 'Uirtsaktak' mean?" Alanna asked, grateful for Faithful's no-nonsense attitude. Since she'd become a mother, there was a lot more emotion turmoil within her than she thought necessary.

'Playful.' It's a combination of Carthaki and Yamani. I'm not sure of its origin otherwise. The donator of that name was quite eccentric.

"The Goddess referred to you once as 'Ailuro.' Is that your true name?"

Faithful smirked as only a cat could. 'Ailuro' means 'Cat' in the language of the gods. It is no more my true name than 'Faithful' is. I may not be a god, but I do have secrets even from the High and Mighty. They do not know my true name and nor shall they.

Alanna had to stop herself from gasping. "Yet you're the Goddess' and not the Trickster's?"

The Trickster has naught to do with me. He likes to meddle, but cats have their own form of meddling. Besides, I am not fond of crows.

"Crows?"

Dedicated to the god, the pesky beggars. They'll do tasks for the shiny baubles only a god or street beggar can provide. Enough about the gods. Speaking of them gives me the same indigestion talking about my fellow stars does. And I know you are not fond of the topic yourself. Ask another question, if you're still feeling curious.

Alanna shook her head at her pert pet. "Who called you Pounce, then? It sounded like you liked him or her."

That would be telling.

"Oh, please!"

You are a grown woman and queen. None of this begging.

Alanna pouted.

Fine. Faithful rolled his eyes. A young woman. She was similar to you in many ways, but different, too. A Dog.

"A dog?" Alanna didn't understand.

Yes. The cat's tail swished impatiently. A Provost's Guardswoman. They used to be called 'Dogs', as a nickname. Nowadays, people don't think it shows proper respect, but Beka loved it—

"Beka?" asked Alanna.

Faithful snorted, annoyed with himself. Yes, her name was Beka. And no more about her will you get out of me.

"Beka who?"

No.

Alanna kept her mouth shut, but wondered about Beka. What had drawn the attention of the constellation to her? She had learned that the Cat didn't always attach himself to the Goddess' Chosen. She wondered if Beka and Pounce were anything like Alanna and Faithful.

Absorbed with her thoughts, she rounded a corner and smacked into Burchard of Stone Mountain. He stumbled backwards in surprise. Realizing who it was, he bowed deeply. "My deepest apologies, Your Majesty."

Alanna had not seen the man since before she had heard he was responsible for slipping her and Jon a love potion. Now, the information was recalled to her mind, and her insides hummed angrily.

"Apologies, my lord Burchard?" she asked lightly.

"For the collision, my queen." He was polite as a courtier should be, but beneath that oily veneer, she could sense some venom, some ill will. He was as conservative as they came, and one of many who were not pleased with Jon's choice of queen. He, however, had never been one to "advise" her on her duties as such, but remained in the shadows. He was not much older than Jon, and could not boast of awareness of Tortall's centuries-old traditions that the old geysers did.

"Only for that?" She tried to keep her voice polite and pleasant. Thayet's lessons were helpful in some ways. She no longer challenged men to duels for insinuations. Often.

"Your Majesty," he faltered, "I am unaware of how else I might have offended you."

"Surely, then the rumors are false?" Alanna marveled internally that her voice was sweet.

It's not that sweet, Faithful chided.

"Rumors, Queen Alanna?"

"Rumors," she affirmed. "Rumors that say you tried to poison your sovereigns."

"Poison, my—my queen?"

Alanna had wished that he would squeak that word, but alas, Burchard of Stone Mountain would not allow himself to show fright that easily.

"Surely, you have not heard such things! I would never—"

"No, perhaps you would never poison my husband or I, but you are not above slipping us something else, are you?"

Burchard blanched. But his bluster did not die. "Are you suggesting, madam, that I would think you and the king do not share ardor and needed assistance to produce children, as is your first duty as queen, and took matters into my own hands and formulated something to create the passion I thought you lacked?" His eyes glinted dangerously. She had been wrong to corner him here.

"Is that a confession then, Stone Mountain?" He'd taken the bait. She hadn't said what he was "rumored" to have given them. He was guilty, though she had known that anyway. Faithful didn't pass on suspicions or rumors.

Of course I don't. But not many know you have the Constellation as a friend.

The man's face became an interesting mix of mottled purple and white. However, contrary to Alanna's hopes, he did not begin apologizing immediately or continue to deny the charges. As his color faded back to normal, his manner turned outwardly hostile and Alanna noted with her peripheral vision that he was reaching for the sheath at his side. Faithful hissed.

"I think, O queen, that you are not the obedient wife you should be. Are you too busy bedding other men that there isn't room for our king?"

Alanna's temper rose. "You dare insult me."

"You've grown complacent, Sir Alanna. You learned to live as the sole female knight, but you have not learned how to be queen. You think the crown will protect you?"

"I can protect myself," she said hotly.

"Prove it."

I'm going for Jon. Do not cut off his head, hear me?

Where did the man get this nerve? Did he forget that she was Champion? Did he forget that she had bested many knights, despite her gender? She started to reach for her sheath and remembered that Thayet had hidden it.

However, she did have at least two daggers on her person. George Cooper and Liam Ironarm's lessons had sunk it. She was as dangerous as she was with Lightning in her hand.

"You've given the kingdom an heir, and a girl to use for alliance marriages. Congratulations, you've proven that you actually are female. But what use are you to the kingdom? We've plenty of males for the occupation you follow. I think your usefulness has dried up."

Alanna remained motionless. Burchard paced in a semi-circle before her, eyes malicious. He felt that he held the upper-hand—no one was about, even the queen's faithful pet had run off. The knight herself wasn't in shape, since giving birth almost four months ago. He knew he couldn't hope to face the Lioness and win when she was in her full form.

Alanna watched as the bigot insulted her. She wanted to cut him down and teach him a lesson, but knew that as queen, it would not be wise to instigate a fight. She would have to wait for him to make the first move. He smeared her mother, her father, her brother, her friends, and herself. She said nothing. At last she was in familiar territory. During duels, Alanna unnerved many with her refusal to fling insults. Her cold purple gaze held the man's darting eyes as he spat at her, telling her that the only reason she had gotten this far and beaten so many was because she used her feminine wiles to cause any male opponents' downfall, like how a female horse in heat drew stallions.

"I'm confused, my lord Stone Mountain," she said politely. "If you had so many doubts about my being a woman, then how did I use my 'feminine wiles' to take down my opponents?"

Burchard paused for a moment. So often men howled against her, but their reasons were so contradictory it was impossible for them to make a logical explanation for her to put down her sword. He gave her no answer and Alanna allowed herself to smile at him

However, this only served to infuriate the man and he threw himself at her, sword unsheathed. Alanna ducked to the right, pulling her knifes out. Stone Mountain whirled back towards her and Alanna caught the blow that would have sliced her skull between her crossed blades. She gave him a good kick in the belly and the man was forced backwards.

He was quick, Alanna realized, for he immediately went back on the attack. However, he was only a decent swordsman. Alanna, though normally excellent with daggers, found that her movements were not as swift as she usually was. She was not in her full form yet, and a pain between her legs reminded her. Unfortunately, this allowed Burchard opportunity to get too close once or twice. Alanna managed, for the most part, to dodge his blows. She did receive an elbow to the eye, after stopping a blow that could have severed her head from her neck. During that particular part of the scuffle, she could smell the liquor on her opponent's breath.

The fight did not last very long, only five minutes or so. It felt longer to Alanna, whose muscles were lazy and used to rocking babies gently, not swinging knives violently. The crucial moment came when Burchard's sword was again locked in the crossed blades of Alanna. With a wrench, Alanna pulled the sword from the lord's grasp and flung it to the other side of the corridor.

"You've had your duel with the Champion, Burchard of Stone Mountain," she said coldly. "And you have lost."

Burchard smiled, not pleasantly. "But have I lost my duel with the queen?" he asked snidely.

Alanna's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the conservative. The way his fingers twitched, she did not like. She reached for her ember-stone, but just as she was about to grasp the stone, Burchard gave a yell at leaped at her again. He managed to knock the knives from her loose fingers and began to savagely beat at her with his hands.

Alanna had never been one for boxing or wrestling, her size always a disadvantage. But with Liam's help, she had grown stronger in this form of martial arts and began to put her knowledge to the test. Pinned under his large body, she used one arm to block her face and another to try her own blows. However, the man caught her one arm and pinned it under her.

"You think you've won, have you, you little bitch?" he whispered hoarsely. "Just you wait."

He grabbed both sides of her neck and made as if to begin choking her when she brought her knee up to that most sensitive of places between his legs. Howling in pain, he paused just long enough for her to swing her fists forward and make contact with his face. Pushing him off, she got out from underneath him and turned to protect herself. However, Stone Mountain grabbed her ankle and she went down again.

Her lip curled in disgust at how this fight in the corridor had become a brawl, seen in the likes of the Lower City taverns. However, she realized with dread that she was not as strong as she should be, and that her limited strength was wearing out. Never again, she vowed, would she allow herself to be this weak and this vulnerable. Burchard managed to obtain the upper hand and he pushed her against the wall, his body flush with her. Goosebumps grew under her skin at the contact with him. She sneezed three times.

"Like that, slut? How many men have you had since that crown was put on that fire-top of yours? Did you find a lover similar enough to our king so that your children would appear to be legitimate? It's thanks to me that you even have children—thank the gods above that I made sure they're the king's." His hot and alcohol-stained breath blew in her face, and she had never felt fear this way. He pushed himself against her, harder, and she almost vomited into his face.

It probably would have improved the smell.

"You're no better than a common prostitute, bedding the king. You'd have been better off, married to some common blood thief. Instead you slept your way to the throne and a title you don't deserve. Sure, you beat me in arms, but you're no match for anything else than handling big sticks."

Throughout his tirade, Alanna slowly reached up towards the chain she wore around her neck. Burchard didn't seem to notice, and when she finally grabbed her ember, she saw that there was an ugly glow about the man. There was a green Gift that coursed through the man's veins, an ugly sick-green color, but worse was a Gift, colored like her own, purple. This Gift pulsed around him faintly.

Alanna's own Gift ran through her. Carefully, she gathered it into her hand. She let go of the ember and placed her hand against Burchard's chest and pushed.

The man flew away from her and smashed into the opposite wall. Alanna's lungs expanded gratefully, breathing in fresh, hate-less air.

"Unnatural, that's what you are!" cried the man, still reeling from the impact of his crash. He cupped his hands together and made a throwing motion. Alanna drew up a shield as quickly as she could, but she caught the first part of the magical attack. Immediately, her insides turned to mush and her legs threatened to quit. She strengthened her purple shield and thought quickly about her next move. She had been trained in healing mostly, and had never studied intensely the ways of dueling with magic. Her physical strength was low, and though her reserves of her Gift were strong, wielding it took more physical strength that she could muster.

The lord of Stone Mountain seemed to understand this and his smile was gleefully menacing. He began to draw glyphs that shimmered in the air. Alanna realized with horror that they were very similar to the symbols drawn by the former shaman of the Bloody Hawk tribe. Dangerous symbols. Ones that she couldn't overturn. Ones that could destroy not only her but the entire palace, including her children. A cold fear ran through her veins at the thought of losing her twins. Because she knew she had to protect them, she slowly gathered her power to her and readied it to scourge the air of the glyphs, knowing it would probably cost her her life.

A sudden yell distracted both of them, Alanna from her panic and Burchard from his magic. Both turned and saw a very, very tall man, almost stork-like in appearance. He had long black hair, held back from his face. His clothes were patched and ragged, but he spoke with authority. The words that tumbled from his mouth were not Tortallan nor Scanran nor Common, but there was immense power behind them. Alanna saw, her hand wrapped around her stone, black and white Gift leap from the man's hands and devour the glyphs.

"What do you think you are doing?" roared the stranger, advancing on Stone Mountain. "Magic like that, that certainly you can't control. It's beyond your Gift abilities, which you should have known, seeing as you've got someone else's power all over you. Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith! You could have killed this poor girl, whoever she is." His face turned stern. "I'm not as familiar with this kingdom, but I'm sure the priestesses of the Temple of the Goddess are just as displeased with rape as they are where I am from."

"That 'poor girl'," came another voice, dry and yet somewhat amused, "is the queen."

Jonathan stood behind them, his arms crossed and Faithful at his feet.

Burchard shook his head, looking very much like he was coming out of a trance. "Your…Majesties—" he began.

"I saw, Stone Mountain, and heard most of it. It reeks of treachery." Jon's voice lost all amusement.

"My…liege?"

If it weren't because he had just tried, rather viciously and repetitively, to kill her in her own palace, Alanna would have believed he had no clue as to what had just happened. Jon gestured to the guards. "Take him. Leave him until he chooses to explain himself. Then send someone to my lady Stone Mountain and explain that I do not wish to see any of their people until I feel better about the rest of their loyalties." The guards bobbed their heads quickly as they grabbed the lord's upper arms and hauled him off to some keeping cell.

You didn't chop off his head. Good.

Alanna rolled her eyes at Faithful. "If I had, I would have been spared a lot more trouble."

The stranger's eyes furrowed in confusion. The corner of Jon's mouth turned up slightly. "The cat can talk," he explained.

Faithful mrrted. As if that was the extent of my abilities.

This time, the mage heard. He froze and stared at the cat. After a moment or two, his eyes wide, he bowed from the waist. Faithful smirked.

It's always nice when you humans recognize me.

"It's always nice to meet creatures of your intelligence and power, O Cat." Despite the reverence in his voice, the stranger's words held just a slight note of irony. He sounded as if he were used to meeting the stuff of legends.

Beware, Black Robe. I am more than just the queen's cat.

With that, Faithful turned and stalked away, tail held high. The three humans watched him go.

"You have an interesting choice in pets, Your Majesty," offered the stranger, his Common bearing traces of a Tyran accent.

Alanna, still leaning against the stone wall, tried to shrug. "You probably should say that he has an interesting choice in humans." The man smiled at this. "Which makes you a point of interest as well. Not many are allowed to speak with Faithful."

Taking his cue to introduce himself, the tall man bowed elegantly again. It was clear he was accustomed to the etiquette one used about royalty. "I am but a simple foreign juggler, Your Most Gracious Majesties, called—"

"Nonsense," Alanna scoffed. "Besides that you scolded Stone Mountain, I saw your magic. Faithful addressed you as 'Black Robe'." Her eyes widened. "Are you truly a Black Robe?"

The man's eyes opened wide. "How…how did you see?"

Alanna smiled. She liked this man, and was most tempted to trust him. But being cautious as she must, she did not reveal her god-given ember-stone. "I have my ways."

He grinned in return. "Magic these days. You think a simple cloaking spell or five will shield your Gift. And then you find a queen scuffling in the hallway with a man, fighting him off with both daggers and magic, who can see through your shields."

Jon's sharp blue eyes turned to Alanna. "Which raises the question about what exactly caused this fight. But first, sir," he said to the Black Robe, "I'd like to know your name and business in Tortall."

"If I had any doubts you were king, sire, they are now gone. My name is," Alanna saw Jon's fingers twitch and knew he had employed the same truth spell she had just cast. "...Arram Draper. Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith!" he swore. "I haven't been hit by a truth spell that hard in years, not to mention two."

"Why would you hide your true name?" asked Jon, ready to cast another spell. He was charmed by the man, but had not let himself trust him. If Faithful was correct and the man was a Black Robe, he was very powerful, and potentially dangerous. Also potentially very useful.

"I changed my name when I graduated from the Carthaki University. Arram Draper does not sound like the name of a Black Robe mage." He drew himself up stiffly, as if he were trying to convince them it was all pride for him.

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Only pride, then?"

Arram Draper sighed. "I am on the run from a very powerful man. He and I were friends for a long time, but he has since turned on me."

"And dared to threaten you?" asked Jon.

"He is not my equal, but very near. He did not have the patience for the University, but he is ruthless."

"Emperor Ozorne?" asked the king and queen in unison.

"Damnation," cursed Arram, clearly frustated. "I only meant to stop by the palace to see what the magical ruckus was, and now I've been discovered by the king and queen. It seems, Your Majesties, that you know just about everything about me. It is not often when I've been gotten the better of. I have been lax in my defenses. Would it be rude to ask of yourselves? Rumors about Tortall have abounded for years, but I hardly expect one often meets queens and kings in hallways combating lords."

Jon laughed, and even Alanna grinned sheepishly. "It's relatively new that Alanna duels in hallways, and I'm not sure why she chose to fight Burchard of Stone Mountain now, especially since she was strictly not supposed to be anywhere near a weapon until March. She just gave birth to twins, you see, Master Draper. Queen Alanna also happens to serve the kingdom as my Champion."

"Maternal leave is what required her to not touch a sword? But where did Her Majesty get the daggers?"

"An old friend taught me to be always armed, and thanks the gods I followed his advice," Alanna said grumpily. "But I'm done practicing in secret—maternity leave, that's over now." Jon opened his mouth to argue. "No, Jon. I can't be at a disadvantage like that again. If someone else were to attack…thank the Goddess I'd disobeyed for as little as I did."

"No one should be attacking anyone, especially my wife in my palace," Jon said crossly. "What did you say to him?"

Alanna looked at the floor. "He slipped us a love potion, and I called him out for it. But," she added quickly, "he attacked me first."

"He what?" Jon roared. Alanna glanced side-long at Arram Draper, who was carefully studying the ceiling.

"Faithful told me."

"When?" Jon's eyes snapped angrily, looking like pure blue flame. Alanna sighed, and wished that she hadn't told him.

"Last December," she whispered. She saw Jon do the math in his head, and saw the revelation gleam from her husband's eyes as he realized that last December was the time of that unusual, crazy time of magicked passion.

"He's dead." Jon's voice was flat.

"Jon, I'm…not sure that's wise." Alanna's voice was small and its tone caught his attention. He looked at her sharply, but she shook her head. She would not discuss this in front of the newcomer.

Jon turned to the Black Robe. "Master Draper, come with me. I should like to speak with you. Alanna, I will speak with you tonight."

As the two men swept away, Alanna grasped Arram's arm. "Thank you," she said. "You saved my life."

Arram smiled. "I just thank the gods that they directed me here in time, Queen Alanna."

-x-x-x-

Alanna was with Thayet when Jon found her that evening. The warlord's daughter was dressing Alanna's hair as carefully as she could, trying not to touch the bruises Alanna had sustained from her earlier combat. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about the spectacular blooming black eye. Alanna's gown was just of a few shades' difference of the violet bruise.

Jon stopped in the doorway and paused to watch the two women. Both were extraordinary, he thought, his eyes lingering on the way the shimmering blue contrasted with Thayet's raven hair. Alanna noticed him and cleared her throat. Jon shook away his distraction, but he was not worried that his wife had caught him ogling her lady-in-waiting. Alanna had mumbled George Cooper's name often enough in her sleep that he had no illusions about their feelings for each other.

"Lioness, you have twenty seconds to explain why I am not sending Stone Mountain to Traitor's Hill."

Thayet rolled her eyes, and continued brushing Alanna's hair. She had heard the story before, and she was in agreement with Alanna. Alanna told Jon what Burchard had said, trying to hide her hurt at his words. Jon cursed when he saw the wisdom to just give him a warning and then forget it. He knew it took every ounce of will power on her part to not smack him into the netherworld. She also told him of the presence of the green and purple Gifts, and it disturbed him. She'd sworn it was the exact color of her own Gift, but she hadn't used any at that moment. As difficult and self-concerned as Thom was, he would never do anything that would have threatened his sister.

"For now, I shall banish that whole family," Jon decided. "They can stay on their fief and pray. But he will be punished, Alanna," he said forcefully, touching her cheek gently. "If anything had happened to you, I would never have forgiven him or myself." Alanna pursed her lips and said nothing. "You cannot believe, for one minute, what he said." Jon's voice was fierce as he turned her head so their eyes met. "You are needed here, both as queen and as Champion. I need you. Kally and Thom need you. You and no other could do what you have done in Tortall. I love you, Alanna."

"Then the rumors aren't true?" Alanna asked, some confidence restored in her by Jon's words. They were short, but rang deeper in her heart than anything else. Jon alone knew what needed to be said to cure the damage from the poisonous words spewed from the bigot's mouth.

"No! Of course not! Wait, which rumors?"

"That you've decided to permanently replace me with Alex?"

"Who told you that?"

"Several of the esteemed Lords on the Council. They seemed to think that my place was now in the nursery and if I did not lay down my shield, I would never see my children again."

Jon sat in stunned silence for a moment. "Please tell me that you are joking." Both women shook their heads. "Alanna, I swear to you, I will never force you to give up your shield or sword. You are my sword arm. You'd be pretty useless without a sword in hand."

"Thank you, my lord," Alanna drawled sarcastically.

"I didn't mean it like that," Jon sighed. "You know what I meant. No, Alex's alright as Champion, but it's more impressive when you beat them. You gloat less. Besides, Alex is needed to deal with the Copper Isles."

"Thank the Goddess," Alanna said, fully relieved.

"Now, let's try to be positive. We still have to start this Midwinter fiasco, with the first dance and blessing and what-not. And I've got to present the newest addition to our court, Master Numair Salmalin. Thayet, please make sure that Raoul is in attendance, and not hiding. Check behind the tapestries."

"Who's Numair Salmalin?" Alanna asked as she clasped a strand of pearls to her neck. She never was fond of necklaces, but Jon had given her this one for her birthday, and she needed some accessory, since she wasn't allowed to wear Lightening. She tried not to grumble about replacing swords with pearls. She took Jon's arm and they walked together towards the banquet hall.

"An old friend of mine that I met in my travels in Tyra. I've asked him to come and stay awhile in court. He's most kindly obliged me and has arrived today."

"Why is now the first I'm hearing of this?"

Jon grinned. He leaned close to her ear and whispered. "You may recall your new friend, Arram Draper. I have to give some sort of semblance of a reason why he's here. I won't let him go back to the streets. He's been living in Corus, working as a juggler. He's a Black Robe; I can't let him go! But he would prefer not to be known as such, even though I've given him the southern tower. Numair Salmalin is the name he chooses to employ."

Alanna grinned happily as Jon related what Arram/Numair had told him in the ways of his life. "Thom may not be pleased with such a rival," she pointed out. "He'll sense Arram's Gift."

"Thom's got nothing on Arram, I mean, Numair," Jon replied. "Thom's a Master of Mithran Light, but Arr—Numair's a Black Robe. There's very few of them in the world."

By now, they had reached the nursery. Both parents snuck in to bid good-night to their offspring. Maude scolded Alanna about her black eye, but she waved the nurse-maid away. There'd be enough comments and whispers about it tonight at the ball. She leaned over her sleeping daughter and son, and was grateful for Arram. Without him, she might not have been able to kiss them good-night. And that was a most sobering thought.

Favorite part? Favorite line? Have I started straying at all from the original characters? Let me know!