Author's Note: I've been reading a lot of modern novels lately, and they have definitely been toying with my writing style. The story may seem rambling and without a point right now, but I am leaving you hints and sub-plots that will all contribute to the climax—I swear! Half the fun is getting there, and I am thoroughly enjoying the day-to-day of Laurel's life, aren't you?

Do not let my lighthearted tone throw you off… Darker days are ahead.

Things To Do

The next afternoon saw a party of energized convent girls heading down to a seamstress' shop in the Lower City. It was not so far that they had occasion to worry about pickpockets or anything of that nature; a woman named Lalasa made dresses for the Queen herself and so had a large shop conveniently around the corner from the Temple district where plenty of watchful guards stood at attention. The young ladies had an appointment for dress fittings for their winter gowns.

Laurel was among the group of seven. The usual Roxanna, Alisonne, and Amelie were around as well as Lady Lindley, the mastermind of the coming-out ball spectacle, and two of her closest friends. Roxanna and Lindley seemed to have formed an alliance of sorts and were walking arm-in-arm at the head of the line. The blue-eyed girl had found her way to the back next to Amelie, and they compared their still fresh impressions of the grand ballroom in all its glory and the nobles that had filled it just the night before.

Despite the previous late night, the ladies had set a quick pace, and it took them only half an hour to walk from the inner palace gate where they had met to the shop door itself. The day was warm, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Roxanna even dropped back to speak to the quiet pair in the rear.

"Lalasa's gowns are the best in the kingdom! And you can just tell her your price range—don't be shy about that, Amelie. She understands tighter budgets and can find all sorts of little ways to cut back on price while still doing the most beautiful creations," the girl told them. Laurel could feel her first walking companion's spirits fall at the comment on her family's riches, or lack thereof. That had been uncalled for—it was heavy pirate activity that had wreaked havoc on Amelie's father's shipping lines and drained their coffers. The shy girl could hardly be held responsible for that.

Once inside the spacious shop, the girls scattered to browse the dresses out on display or to select the fabrics they wanted for their new gowns. A shop assistant motioned to Laurel to come over to her counter that displayed lengths of ribbons and a collection of broaches. She sized the convent girl up with her eyes, noting size, skin tone, and eye color in one practiced sweep. "What can we do for you, milady?" she asked pleasantly.

Laurel smiled her greetings. "Some gowns for the winter season—I think three should suffice for most events and then, of course, one grander one for the Midwinter's Ball."

"Do you have anything particular in mind?" the assistant inquired all business-like as she wrote the information down.

"I'll trust your judgment in the latest styles," the girl replied absently, her eyes roaming the row of cameo broaches under the glass of the counter. Laurel, suddenly remembering Roxanna's hint, carefully looked around her before drawing out the purse of money her mother had sent for this very purpose. "And money's not really an issue," she added quietly as she set the bag between them.

The assistant smoothly accepted the purse of coins, deftly setting the bag behind the counter so as not to draw attention. "Let's get you measured then, Lady…" Her dark eyes looked up in askance.

"Laurel of Fury's Valley," the girl supplied.

The convent girl followed the shop assistant to a side room with three mirrors that were set around a small raised circle. A curtain swinging closed hid them from the people in the shop-proper. Laurel was helped out of her dress and directed to stand on the pedestal in her shift. An older, stouter woman entered to wrap a knotted cord around various parts of her body and call out numbers which the counter girl dutifully wrote down in her notes. At the end, the two conferred for a moment over the sheet of parchment and the older woman mumbled, "I see..."

Louder, in a voice directed at the blue-eyed girl, the seamstress said, "I think I have something already done up that you'll like. We can tailor it right now." Laurel nodded, and the two women slipped out to retrieve the dress.

They came back with a cream silk and silver thread confection that required both of their sets of arms to carry in. "That would be for Midwinter then?" the convent girl asked breathlessly, her blue eyes taking in the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.

"It's a masterwork by Mistress Lalasa's own hand," the dark-eyed assistant told her with a smile. "We think that ivory, cream, and white will be very popular this Midwinter. Shall we?"

Between the three of them, the ladies got the ball gown on, and the older woman set herself to pinning it up for alterations. Laurel stood perfectly still and was pleasantly surprised to not be pricked once. In the meantime as she faced the mirrors, the girl was left to admire the lace decorated bodice that flared into a full skirt; the silk turned into shimmering purples and blues where it caught the light.

When the seamstress had finished, she and the assistant helped Laurel out of the fine gown and took it back into the workroom. The blue-eyed girl was lacing up the front of her plain dress again when the counter girl returned with a paper receipt. "We'll have it sent it up to the palace by tomorrow. And a messenger will be sent to you when the others are ready for fitting." Laurel smiled as she spoke her thanks and slid a silver coin into the girl's hand.

It was not much longer until the other girls were ready as well. Besides custom orders like Laurel had placed, a number of dresses were bought off of the rack to be altered by the ladies who could not afford a seamstress to tailor for them. The young ladies chattered about their purchases as they started up the incline of the Temple Way.

Nearing the outer palace gate, Allisonne caught sight of a group of young knights with swords on their hips walking towards them on their way into the city. A ripple of excited whispers at the front spread to Laurel and Amelie in the back of the line. The blue-eyed girl studied the approaching party and was surprised to realize that she knew all of them. She stepped out of the mob of giggling ladies to say hello, but Dom beat her to it.

"Lady Laurel!" he called in exaggerated astonishment. His three companions spotted her too, and they all strode over to talk to her. The girl was dimly aware that her fellow shoppers had stopped somewhere behind her to watch the exchange. The sergeant, arriving first, took her hand and bowed over it, kissing her fingertips in the process. "What brings you out here this afternoon? The ball didn't tire you out too much last night?" he asked with a playful grin.

The girl blinked at him a moment, considering what to say to counter this flirt's game. "A good lady neglects her duty neither in dancing nor in dress shopping." Laurel turned her attentions briskly to the others. "Good afternoon, Kel, gentlemen," she said with an incline of the head. The lady knight and Merric responded in kind, but Iden came forward to kiss her hand as well. Their eyes caught for a second, and the girl could not identify what she saw in them.

Kel asked politely, "I hope you went to Lalasa for your dresses. She always does a fine job with mine."

"Of course," Laurel answered. "Everyone says she is the best." The lady knight smiled to herself.

Dom regained control of the meeting quickly. "My Meatheaded cousin Neal and his lovely wife are hosting a picnic party the day after tomorrow. I'd love it if you joined us," he hinted hopefully to the convent girl.

"I would enjoy that immensely—and I could never refuse an invitation from Neal and Yuki," she replied with a coy smile, easily dodging his implied offer of being his escort for the event. She did not want to let people think she was getting involved with him in some way.

"And bring a friend," Merric added, his eyes focused on the ladies behind her. Laurel discreetly traced his gaze to Amelie who stood to the side of the group of convent girls who were waiting for the blue-eyed girl to finish.

"I will," Laurel assured him smoothly. "But I should get back to my friends and let you be on your way." The girl curtseyed to their small bows and returned to the waiting party. As Dom and the knights passed, they called out greetings to the ladies who each smiled and inwardly decided that one of the men had been looking directly at her. After a few moments for recovery, the girls were able to continue their walk up to the palace with even more to gossip about.

Lady Lindley pushed her way to the blue-eyed girl's side as they strolled. "How do you know all those knights like that? You know, I danced with that redhead last night—I'm sure he was looking right at me when you talked to them," she confided.

"Well, Dom is actually a sergeant in the King's Own, not a knight. And they were all friends of—" Laurel began, but was cut off by Roxanna's voice as the girl appeared at her other side.

"That was Domitan of Masbolle that kissed her hand first," she announced with authority to the captivated ladies. "He is the greatest womanizer of the entire court; I know his reputation well from the other ladies I've talked to." Roxanna's hazel gaze narrowed on Laurel's face. "How many dances did you have with him last night, Laurel?" she asked, loading her words with all sorts of offensive meaning.

The blue-eyed girl's cheeks burned at the sudden insinuation, but their redness could be blamed on the brisk wind that was accompanying the coming evening. Struggling with this unfounded accusation on her honor, she tried to pin the girl's rudeness on jealousy—she had, after all, just received a fair amount of attention from some rather decent, eligible young men. It was honestly more than her share.

Taking all of this into consideration, Laurel replied calmly to Roxanna, "We danced twice, and he was always very chivalrous to me."

"He was so handsome though…" one of them commented, and that seemed to satisfy the animated group of girls who then went on to discuss the reputation of the soldiers of the King's Own. This evolved into a questioning of the characters of the women of the Queen's Riders. The blue-eyed girl was disgusted with this change of topic, but the others had plenty of stories and rumors to share so they did not even notice when she slipped away to find her own rooms off the Yamani ladies' hall.

Misuko and Kaida would have something much more interesting and a lot less crude to talk about, of that Laurel was sure.

The next day, Laurel decided to take up Neal's invitation to help in the infirmary. After spending time just talking with a few patients who were tired of lying in bed alone all day and excited just to have a visitor, Laurel was set to help a young boy with a broken leg fall asleep with a lullaby. When he finally drifted off, a healer tapped her on the shoulder wearing a grimace on her face. "Someone would like to meet you."

The girl nodded and followed the woman to a screened off corner. "See what the Count wants," was the only thing she said; without going through the curtain, the healer waved Laurel in and retreated. Still trying to rationalize the strangeness of the woman's actions, the blue-eyed girl entered slightly apprehensively. Expecting something terrible on the other side, her gaze fell only on a single bed containing a dangerously thin, old man with sparse grey hair and dull blue eyes. He lay there dressed in a nightshirt and embroidered velvet robe with a thick blanket tucked around him to ward off the chill in the hall. Seeing the large gold signet ring on his bony finger, Laurel curtseyed and said cautiously, "Good morning, milord."

He waved her over to the chair beside the bed before speaking, and even then the girl had to lean forward to hear him. "I heard you singing… Can you do something to bring an old man peace?"

She smiled and took his hand. "Of course." Laurel reached inside herself for her inner source of calm and drew out a thin thread of shining white gold. As she hummed the beginnings of a melody, it trickled out in arcs and valleys, dancing along with each cadence. Her Gift and her voice became one force as she eased the man's pain with a gentle song.

When he was sleeping peacefully, Laurel left his bedside and went to find and question the female healer who had led her there, but the girl found Neal first. "Lady Laurel," he said warmly with a small bow of his head. "Do you realize that you are our most popular helper now? Everyone keeps asking for you to come back around."

"I can hardly understand why, Sir Neal," she replied modestly but honestly. "I can only do so little for them… I do have a question for you though."

He grinned down at her, not daring to push his compliment. The girl was turning out to be as stubborn as Keladry of Mindelan in that department. "Ask away."

"What's wrong with the gentleman behind the screen?" she asked in a low voice as she gestured to the far side of the infirmary hall.

Neal's emerald eyes flicked swiftly towards the back, curtained-off corner. "That's nasty old Count Nelson. He has a wasting sickness that requires almost hourly treatments, so we had to move him to live in here. Most people would accept it and let the Dark God take them, but that stubborn man refuses to give up on his life. He won't let anyone near him either—his son visits just once a week for a few minutes." Leaning down to her and dropping his voice even lower, he added, "Us healers flip coins for who has to give him his next treatment. He still has a nasty temper and complains that we hurt him when we do it—that's ridiculous of course because we are just giving him pure energy to hold off the sickness so he should feel better when he gets them."

Laurel turned her gaze back to the curtain. "Poor old man," she whispered to herself. To Neal, she said, "I'll be back tomorrow morning. Dom invited me to your picnic too. I hope that was okay."

The man's eyebrows shot up at the mention of his cousin's name. "Know that you're always welcome, milady, here and at any picnic. Now I'd better look like I'm doing some work before the Chief Healer catches me," he drawled.

The girl's brown furrowed in confusion. "Isn't your father the Chief Healer?"

"All the more reason I have to pretend to be productive," he replied with a wink. The corners of Laurel's lips twitched in a small smile at the ridiculousness of Yuki's husband.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the girl said before she curtseyed and left the healer to his work.