This chapter is shorter, but it does have the advantage of coming to you much faster. It also has several moments that many of you have been wanting to find. Thanks for keeping me involved in the story, reviewers.

Lioness Chapter Six

Just four days later, Alanna knew why every woman of means would hire a maid. Salma seemed to know everything about palace life even before Myles did, and Salma knew how to navigate all the smaller hurdles of a large palace that had evaded Alanna and Maude. Salma had hot water waiting the moment Alanna thought she'd like a bath, and knew how to arrange Alanna's fire-red hair into something elegant without any hint of fuss. Salma also seemed pleased with the arrangement, from the way that she was gaining confidence and smiling as she bustled Alanna into slightly adapted dresses.

For all that Salma insisted she was no dressmaker, she had sewn small alterations into nearly every stitch of clothing Alanna owned to better the fit. By the time Alanna was efficiently dressed and coiffed for her second grand ball, she was already promising herself that she'd give Salma a raise as soon as it became possible.

The ball should have been astounding, but after a wonderful dinner with Cythera, Muirne, and Raoul as her tablemates, Raoul had escorted Cythera to the floor. Muirne had gravitated in Harailt of Ali's direction yet again, leaving Alanna on her own when Duke Roger approached.

Alanna curtsied, keeping her manners firmly in mind. "Good evening, your grace."

Roger inclined his head. "Lady Alanna, would you favor me with a dance?"

There was only one answer, unless she wanted to cause a scene and draw entirely too much attention. She swore that she could feel Myles' eyes on her when she held out her hand. "I would be honored, your grace."

Whatever Myles had said and Eleni had confirmed about the duke, he was an excellent dancer. Alanna wasn't terrible, by any means, but she would never have appeared so graceful without such a partner. Roger had a way of altering his own footwork to let her have a better line for a spin, and of stabilizing her for the trickier parts of the dance without making it at all obvious.

That wasn't enough for her to like the man that had stolen her brother from her, but at least she could begin to understand why so many people had fallen under Roger's thrall.

"You are a far better dancer than your brother, my lady. I fear that Thom does not yet understand the importance of dancing," Roger said.

He wasn't out of breath despite the fast tempo of the dance, and she refused to show any weakness. Her gift strengthened her very subtly, but his eyes narrowed slightly. He could see magic, then, as Eleni had thought. "Thom never had much use for things that didn't involve magic, your grace." Once, he'd spared a thought for her, but Alanna would keep that closer to her. She might need that detail later. "Truthfully, I'm amazed that you have convinced him to keep up his swordwork so well. Sir Raoul much admired Thom's swordsmanship."

"Goldenlake is a fine young man," Roger said mildly. Too mildly. "He would be a good match for you, Lady Alanna."

Her own eyes narrowed. It seemed that Roger wouldn't waste their time with small talk about the weather and the latest fashions. "I will be sure to consider Sir Raoul as a match, of course, but it wouldn't do to make a decision so fast. Most of the young knights are still out in the field, as I recall, and Sirs Raoul and Gareth are exceptions in light of Sir Gareth the Elder's untimely death."

Roger smiled at her, and for all the menace lurking behind the expression, she appreciated the measure of respect. "It was a great tragedy," he replied smoothly. "One part of that loss will be mended tonight, however. His majesty will announce tonight that I will replace the late duke as training master for the knights-to-be. I would welcome your advice for tutoring the pages on healing."

"I am a novice, your grace." Despite herself, Alanna relished the chance to talk to the duke so boldly. She didn't like him, and she didn't have to pretend. Duke Roger was above make-believe, at least, even in the light of Myles' strong belief that Roger had been the one to kill Prince Jonathan. "I would consult Duke Baird well before drawing down the list to find my name."

"Baird is talented in small things, Lady Alanna. I believe that you would be more… versatile. You have many chances to make decisions, and as you said, there is no need to decide marriages or alliances on a whim." The weight of his words rested slightly too long on 'marriage,' and the glimmer in his eyes proved it was intentional.

She remembered the whispered rumor Muirne had shared, care of Harailt. Within the university, the strong mages that were not friends of Roger often found flaws in their largest workings that they had not put in place. Some of those flaws were even fatal. If a mage would not join with him, Roger would be sure they could join no one else. Rumor attributed the source of such an attitude to Roger's close relationship to Ozorne, the heir apparent of Carthak.

"I would never decide such things idly." Alanna's words were touched through with sweetness, even as her expression promised mischief. "I will consider all evidence."

Roger chuckled, bringing their dancing to a stop at the edge of the floor. "I would expect nothing less from Thom's sister, my lady. Thank you for the dance."

"It was certainly interesting," Alanna returned diplomatically, even as she caught a glimpse of a small mountain in green and gold coming to her rescue. "If you will excuse me, your grace, I believe Sir Raoul promised me a dance as well."

He made a half-bow of farewell before leaving, and he cut past Lady Delia without a glance. Alanna watched him until he approached the lady of Cavall.

Raoul was smiling crookedly when she finally looked to her very large friend. "You sure know how to pick them, Alanna. He's the most dangerous man in Corus."

Alanna wondered how on earth Myles had missed the chance to pull Raoul into his fold, but perhaps Myles was leaving that to her. He never did seem to have only one plan. "He chose me, actually, and for the hardest song of the night. I'll dance something easier with you, if you like."

"You can't just go and make this practical," Raoul griped good-naturedly, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. "You'll spoil me before I get back to the rest of the marriage-obsessed harpies." He blanched, suddenly, nearly touching his chin to his chest to study her. "You… um…"

"I'm not obsessed with marriage," Alanna assured him. "Not that you aren't very nice, but I don't want to be married at least a year yet. Besides, it's not done to court a woman in mourning."

"That won't stop the gossip."

Alanna held tight to his arm before he could pull away. "There are far worse things to gossip about than the potential that we're both interested. Since neither of us particularly wants to go courting, it would suit us very well to make a show of the honorable thing and dance at a few parties. I get left alone since I found myself such a nice, titled man, and you can console wounded parties with my Book of Gold pedigree. The gossips are happy, we're happy, and we might as well dance."

Both of Raoul's eyebrows had risen steadily during her talk. "You are the most practical-minded woman I've ever met, you know that? No wonder Myles likes you."

Somehow, that drove Alanna to blushing. She hadn't realized their friendship would be so famous.

Raoul's big hand settled at her side. "Well, now I've done it—the whole court says it's friendship, Alanna. They're rude enough about Myles to assume no better."

"It's not that he isn't very nice, but he's old enough to be my father." They would take turns at being embarrassed, it seemed, but Alanna still preferred Raoul's company. He was very gentle, for all that he seemed as large as three of her together would be, and if she didn't look as graceful in his arms, she was drawing more looks as the gossips began to speculate.

After another dance, she was tired and he looked ready to hide behind the wall hangings. "You've done your duty," Alanna whispered. "Go find Sir Gary, if you like. He probably stole away to the library, again, and you'd like that better than a ball."

Raoul looked very much as if he could have kissed her. "Goddess bless you," he said with feeling, not noticing that Alanna's hand flew to her choker on instinct. Raoul disappeared, instead, moving very swiftly for a man of his bulk until he was out the door and gone.

She made her way back to her table, where Myles was holding court with a large serving of liquor. Feeling daring from her night, she plucked the glass from his hand and set it farther down the table. "You know that you drink too much, Myles, and you've already said you want to cut back. Eleni said that if you cut back half a drink a day, and only make one new cut a week, you shouldn't even feel too much badness."

"Would this be Mistress Cooper?"

"She's wonderful, Myles," Alanna said. Myles had changed the topic, but he hadn't disagreed. "I should introduce you. She can help me nag at you about drinking less alcohol and eating more vegetables."

"Hmph. No respect at all." Myles' feigned outrage was not very convincing. "Just for that, I shouldn't tell you that your lord father is expected in two days. He didn't want you surprised badly, but did want to surprise Thom. I violated your privacy horribly and told Lord Alan about just what Thom has been doing."

"Myles!" She blushed, again, but at least half of the embarrassment was that Myles had known.

"I'll apologize later, but do have a few remedies in mind. For tonight, I have been asked to stealthily and subtly coax you into accepting an early Midwinter present from George, for all that there's six weeks yet to the usual present-taking."

Alanna smiled, recognizing Myles' favorite approach to persuasion—honesty. "Is it stolen?" she asked dryly.

"He said you'd say that. He also said that he has an official bill of sale, if you'd like, because he paid for your present six years ago and had yet to find the right recipient. If you'd like an excuse to leave the ball early, you can go check on Chubby. He's doing very well under Stefan's care, but he stepped into a gopher-hole this morning and strained himself rather badly."

"I'll only go if you leave the glass over there," Alanna bargained. "I'm worried about you, Myles. When you let me scan you for sickness yesterday—"

"My entire upper abdomen lit up, I know, but it's a little too late to fix anything."

"Never. If you would ease back on the drinking, you could stop getting so many attacks of the stomach pains that you must have been getting. The little organ in the back is responsible for those, and I've seen a better pancreas in someone that lives full-time in the Dove."

"Just when were you in the Dancing Dove?" Myles asked, abruptly sitting upright after his easy slouch.

"I see patients in the city clinics, Myles, and Eleni recognized him. You might, too, if you knew Marek. All he called himself was Scholar."

"Scholar's six years older than I am," Myles said, quietly, and it seemed that he was talking to himself. She waited, and he continued two minutes later. "Fine. That drink stays away, and I won't have another today. George did ask me to be persuasive."

"Thank you, Myles." She leaned close enough to hug him. Some things were entirely too important to let propriety interfere. "Now I'll go sneak off to check on Chubby. I'm guessing someone will stop me along the way?"

"The man himself, I understand."

Somehow, Alanna didn't count herself surprised. George didn't like leaving work to intermediaries when he could do it himself. "The latest meeting is two hours before the supper bell again?"

"Of course, Alanna."

"Ask Raoul of Goldenlake. He took it on himself to save me from Roger, and he might pull Gary the right way," she murmured, taking care that no one would be able to read her lips.

Myles' expression lightened, and he looked animated despite the lack of alcohol in front of him. "Really! I'd wondered how to bring that generation in, but he'll do very well. Off with you now, let an old man have a few minutes to contemplate."

All through Alanna's walk to the stables, she somehow had not considered that her gift from George would, in fact, be a horse.

The instant she saw the mare, however, she couldn't imagine any kind of protest when she knew that the animal hadn't been stolen. "Oh, George, she's beautiful!" she burst out quietly, letting the palamino mare take her scent.

"We've been calling her Moonlight the last six years or so. She was my mother's usual mount, but with th' way she's been too busy to ride, she'd thought of sellin' her. Last night, mother had a dream with you riding Moonlight here. She decided right away that th' horse was coming to you."

She should at least quibble about such an expensive gift, but the horse had already nudged her delicately-boned head against Alanna's shoulder. "She's perfect," Alanna decided quietly. "Thank you, George. I won't mind missing the rest of that ball. I need more time to think."

"Myles give you somethin' t'chew on?"

"It was Roger, actually." Alanna blinked with surprise when George stiffened. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that he wasn't actually all-knowing. "I just talked to him at the ball. Thom wasn't attending in favor of some great magical working, but Roger danced with me."

"Your next lesson's tomorrow. We're talking about this," George ordered.

He looked spooked enough that Alanna didn't fight the command, even to say that of course she would have told George and Eleni. "Every detail," she promised instead. "As much as I'd like to talk about it now…"

George nodded, still stiff from some greater shock.

She didn't know why just a conversation could be so threatening, but she would ask tomorrow. "I'll get back before Salma starts fussing, and ride Moonlight here over to your mother's tomorrow. I'll even ask for Coram to come along, he likes your mother and might as well hear what you have to say."

"Goddess keep you, lass, with Roger showin' interest. You're too strong a mage for it t'make any of us that cares pleased," George said after several moments.

She'd already left propriety far behind, and he wasn't the type to mind the transfer of fine blond hairs from Moonlight to his dark jacket. She hugged him, but it was different than hugging Myles. George was standing, for one, but he also had quite a bit of muscle compared to the rather sedentary Myles. He also hugged back, as hard as if he thought she'd disappear in the next moment.

"Roger's that bad?" she whispered into the night, her head resting on George's shoulder.

For nearly a full minute, the only reply was his arms tightening around her protectively. "Worse."