Author's Note: This term has been ridiculous intellectually and emotionally, but I have decided to take a break and let Laurel run my mind for awhile.

I also feel the need to explain myself. First of all, I don't want to say that Laurel is not like the other court ladies because she most definitely is. Part of my reason for writing this story was to try to humanize the 'silly court girls' that countless pieces on this website generalize and, for the most part, disdain. I wanted to create a character that was a member of this group as well as someone in her own right. Laurel was trained to think a certain way about who she is and will be, but she will eventually test the bounds of her 'lot in life,' so to speak. In addition, I want to say that there is nothing wrong with choosing to be a good, respectable lady. Not everyone wants to fight or gain power, and they should still be respected because they are equally important human beings. I sincerely hope that Laurel will be able to redeem herself in the future for all these doubting reviewers ;)

I do fully admit that even she (and I, as her writer) can fall prey to clichéd feelings once in awhile, but I will strive to maintain some portion of the originality I have come to expect from myself as this story continues. I welcome all reviews to my work, and I hope that they are always entirely honest because one cannot learn from her mistakes if no one bothers to point them out.

Above all, I don't plan on giving up on Laurel anytime soon, and I hope that all of you, the readers of Hitomi, will not either. There is much more to come, and perhaps this court lady will manage to win you over by the end :)

Long Days

The girl made her way to Lady Lindley's room for a sewing circle with some of the convent girls. She was late and entered the crossfire of gossip in progress. Greetings were quickly exchanged, and she settled into a free chair and pulled out some work to do. The talk was, as usual, about various girls' prospects—"I saw Cara leave with that dark Bazhir knight at Lady Eglantine's party last night."

"But she went to the gardens with that blond soldier in the Own the week before. She is certainly getting around…" came a malicious reply.

Laurel, tactfully staying out of this chitchat, tried not to think about what these girls would soon be saying about her and her betrothed. She concentrated instead on making the nightclothes for Yuki's twins as a Midwinter's gift.

"Well, I have something worse," said a pale, raven-haired lady with a pert grin. "I saw Keladry of Mindelan tucked away in a corner with that Domitan of Masbolle! Can you imagine that handsome sergeant being interested in her?"

Laurel almost said something to that—she knew firsthand that those two were just good friends, comrades—but she did not feel up to arguing right now. Her concentration was fixed on embroidering a bird when she was disrupted by Alisonne's ringing address, "Laurel, you spend a lot time with the Lady Knight. Does she have you running around in men's clothes with a sword in hand yet?" Some of the girls tittered at that.

The blue-eyed girl looked up in frustration since had been putting up with comments like this for far too long; Kel was a very good person, if a little bit too active for Laurel's personal taste. Nonetheless, the lady knight did not deserve this kind of ridicule from girls who had never faced Scanrans or Immortals who wanted to hurt their people. They romanticized the work of the male knights, but mocked Kel for doing the same work!

"No, Alisonne," she replied spitefully, a spark of anger flashing white fire in her eyes. "I gave up on that because I don't look very good in breeches. I have far too many curves to pass as a boy." She instantly regretted it. It was too mean. Once, one of the Daughters had thought Alisonne was a boy who snuck into the convent in a dress and bonnet to admire the ladies inside; she was tall and lanky with a small chest, and it had been an honest mistake. Yet the girl still took any reference to it very badly.

The room was silent for a few moments until Roxanna changed the subject loudly: "Why are all the best men already taken? We've been here for months already and not one of us has had an offer! Papa hasn't even come by to see me yet." A few girls mumbled sympathies to that.

Lady Lindley, with a wicked grin on her face, announced to the room, "Don't forget though—border guard changes in two weeks. That means more knights and soldiers for the Midwinter parties!"

Abruptly, Laurel began collecting her things, tucking loose strings and half-finished pieces into her sewing bag. She did not have to put up with this foolishness. There were plenty of other people in the palace that had other things to talk about than men and marriage! She stormed out of the gathering without a word.

In the hallway, she heard rustling skirts behind her and turned to see that Amelie had hastily left with her. "Are you all right, Laurel?" she asked timidly. "You usually don't… snap like that, and Alisonne meant no harm. Lady Kel has always been kind to me… Should I have said something too?"

"I know, Amelie, don't worry about that. I just got some news… I was distracted and the conversation just rubbed me the wrong way. But that's no excuse for rudeness: I'll have to apologize to her later." Looking around the empty corridor in which they stood, Laurel impulsively pulled the petite girl into a window alcove for privacy. "I've just been betrothed," she confided in a low voice.

"Oh, did Iden ask you?" the dark-eyed girl immediately asked excitedly.

Laurel started at the name. It seemed that they had been too noticeable after all in their friendship, and everyone had thus made the wrong assumptions. Well, at least wrong on my side of the relationship, the girl thought to herself. She would need to seriously reexamine her behavior at the palace. "No," she said flatly. "It's a knight not at court yet, Jedrek of Gethin. My parents are arranging it, and I just got the letter."

Amelie frowned. "I've heard that name before, but I can't remember where. Is Gethin near the coast?"

"I really have no idea." The blue-eyed girl looked down a beat, working up her courage for a request. "Do you think you could ask around for me—Roxanna, Alisonne, Lindley, the usual gossipmongers. I don't think they'll share details with me anytime soon, after that..." She gestured back down the Ladies' Hall towards Lady Lindley's room. "And don't tell anyone about this yet, please—discretion at all costs."

"Of course! You can trust me." Amelie smiled brightly and looked up at her. "Aren't you excited? You're the first of our year!"

Laurel smiled weakly, though she did not really feel anything of the sort at the moment. "Of course. It's a dream come true."

Late that night, Mitsuko returned from a late dinner party hosted by Yuki. She entered quietly to avoid waking her roommate, but the girl was still awake curled in her chair wearing a nightgown and watching the fire die down. Laurel had declined her invite to the same event, feeling too overwhelmed to converse civilly with friends after learning the big news. Not that she was extremely upset or anything… It was just a lot to process in only one afternoon.

Seeing that Laurel was not in fact sleeping, the Yamani spoke with her customary controlled enthusiasm. "I have news: Kaida and I have been asked to join Princess Shinko's ladies-in-waiting."

Laurel's head snapped up and she smiled genuinely. "That is great news. Congratulations!"

Mitsuko continued as she exchanged her day slippers for warmer and more comfortable ones at the foot of her bed. "Also, Sakura is returning to the Islands in a few days. She had Shinko to appeal to the Emperor on her behalf."

"Well, she was never truly happy here," the blue-eyed girl acknowledged.

"She is glad to be going home, but I wonder what the Emperor will do…" the Yamani trailed off, picking up her nightclothes and hugging them to her chest absentmindedly. She turned back to her friend with a more serious tone to her voice. "There is one other thing, Hitomi. Kaida and I will be moving to rooms nearer the princess and since Sakura is leaving with Lady Jin, the hall will be emptied. You may be moving to another hall."

Laurel cut her off in Common. "Don't worry about it at all. I would have been leaving soon enough." She could not think of the more polite formulaic phrases of the Yamani language while her head was stuffed from more weighty thoughts. "I have news for you too—I have been betrothed. My mother sent word by letter." She waved the paper that she was holding and that had been in her hand the entire afternoon.

The corners of Mitsuko's eyes crinkled. "That is good news, isn't it?" she asked in elegantly accented Common.

"Yes," the blue-eyed girl replied, "Just unexpected good news." She stared off into the fire again, and her roommate slipped into the privy to change and ready herself for bed.

Laurel broke up her reverie a few moments later and crossed over to her bed. She laid the letter on top of her vanity and slipped under her blankets to ward off the chill. When Mitsuko emerged from the next room, she sat up. "Please keep this between us for now, Mitsuko. I would rather wait for the official announcement in case something falls through… I've never met him, you know?"

The Yamani nodded. "As you wish, Hitomi." She climbed into her bed and blew out the last candle. The dim glow of the fireplace on the far side of the room was the only light as Laurel tried to will herself to sleep.

It was not working. She had been thinking hard all afternoon, but still her mind ran in frantic circles of nervousness and reassurance without ever finding harmony. The inevitability of the event did not make it any less daunting. Laurel had always known she would marry, probably rather young, to a man she did not know very well. But knowing it and living it were two different things.

First of all, she had never expected to be the first of her year to be betrothed; that credit usually went to a prettier girl, a girl higher up in the Books of Nobility. But then she should be happy to win such an honor. That was what really bothered her: Laurel did not understand why her betrothal now felt like a death sentence.

In the last few hours, the girl had caught herself thinking how nice it would have been if she had met someone at the palace who had found her interesting enough to go to her parents with an offer. Someone she knew, someone she had conversed with, someone who was a friend before a fiancé. That would have been nice—the kind of scenario found in those silly books that Iden had always lent her.

Laurel sucked in a quick breath at that realization—this doubt for her impending marriage was all because of Iden! He had poisoned her mind with his court trash novels and then confused her with that moment in the gardens. It was because of Iden that she was wavering.

The blue-eyed girl had always been levelheaded about this sort of thing; when the other girls were oo-ing and ah-ing over Dom or any other relatively handsome man at court, she had not wasted her time imagining what being Lady Laurel of Masbolle would feel like. She had put their gossiping into the column of ridiculousness and continued to expect the expected for her life, one with no guarantee of romance. Now, her expectations had become beyond reasonable, and she was left feeling startled by what she had before been calmly anticipating her entire life.

She resolved never see that particular knight again, privately or publicly. With her a promised woman, she could not let him or anyone else believe that there was or could be something between them. To do less would cause her terrible disgrace.

In addition, she resolved to learn what she could about Jedrek of Gethin. Amelie was asking around, and she would too. If fact, her best source for information was trapped in a bed in the infirmary: the very Count Nelson who had brought about this betrothal in the first place. She would concentrate on getting to know her future husband so that maybe their union wouldn't seem such a shock. Jedrek did not have to be a total stranger; he might even turn out to be a friend.

Having decided to take charge of her life again, Laurel was able to fall asleep at last.

Laurel sent word to Amelie to meet for lunch the next day. She got a plate of food and sat at a table for two in the corner of the noble's mess. The girl was anxious, but did not outwardly manifest it; her hands rested folded in her lap and her food remained untouched.

Only five minutes passed before the dark-haired beauty arrived with a tray in hand. She sat with a smile and Laurel leaned forward expectantly.

"I got a little information on Jedrek of Gethin," the girl began.

"Don't say his name!" Laurel hissed nervously, causing Amelie to blink in surprise. "Call him…" she glanced down at her plate, "Beef."

Nodding, the girl continued, "I was talking to Lady Margarry of Cavall—she's betrothed to Sir Owen—and she says that Beef was stationed at Fort Steadfast during the war. He's a few years older than Owen's group of friends, probably around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She knew about him because her father was a commander and had assigned him some soldiers to go scout the land around the fort. They go missing for two whole days, and then Beef returns alone covered in blood saying that the Scanrans got the others—five trained scouts that let the enemy find them first? It didn't make any sense."

Brow furrowed, the blue-eyed lady could only say, "Strange…"

"I knew I had heard about him before—I remember my brother writing to me about that incident in a letter," Amelie commented.

Laurel looked up at the girl again. "Your brother? Was he in the War?"

"He's a knight, too. Fabian," she answered with a warm, affectionate smile. "He's coming down for Midwinter—I haven't seen him in years, but we always write."

The blue-eyed girl replied half-heartedly, "That's nice. I don't really keep in touch with my brothers."

"Fabian, me and my little sister, we're the best of friends. I can't wait until we're all at court together," Amelie bubbled out.

Her sweetness has no bounds, the blue-eyed girl thought to herself. Laurel sighed, but did not respond. How nice it would be to have a close-knit family life that.

"I could ask Merric about Beef," Amelie suggested gently, sensing the other lady's sour mood.

Laurel shook her head. "No, the fewer people that know right now, the better. And since he is friends with Iden, he would be the worst one to tell anything to."

The information exchange done, they spoke of pleasanter topics as Laurel picked at her food. After lunch, the two ladies parted amicably in the hallway, and Laurel headed to the infirmary. Only a hallway away from the infirmary door, Iden came around the corner in front of her. "How are you?" he asked courteously with a bob of his head without the least hint of surprise in his face.

She cursed him silently—how did he always manage to bump into her like this? It was like he was tracking her down for sport. Yet, despite her recent resolution to avoid him, she could not be rude to his face. "I'm well, very busy. How are you?" the girl returned composedly.

"I've been feeling sorry, Laurel…" he began sheepishly.

"Oh," she said simply, wondering how she could make a graceful escape.

"Can I make it up to you? A walk?" he offered, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. He looked awkward for once as though his easy charm was tempered with genuine shame.

"I'm on my way to the infirmary to do some work. Just forget what happened, and don't think about it anymore." Laurel brushed past him and did not look back.

Entering the infirmary alone, a male healing assistant recognized her immediately. "Count Nelson is sleeping now. He's not been doing well lately; the treatments knock him out before you can even get here." Without more ado he hurried off, carrying a stack of clean linens in his arms.

Nodding but slightly disappointed inside, Laurel spotted across the room a middle-aged healer with her grey-blonde hair in a tight bun. As one of the healers that had worked at the palace the longest, she might know some things about a certain long-tem patient. The girl approached the woman where she was folding bed sheets. The girl took up the opposite end of one with a smile and helped the woman fold it. Trying to make it seem like casual conversation, she said, "I hear that Count Nelson is getting worse by the day. Has anyone else been in to see the poor man?"

With a low chuckle, the healer shook her head. "Only that odd son of his on regular visits. I can't imagine he has many friends that would want to see him."

"Why?" Laurel asked innocently. "What did he do?"

"Well, he had a great military career for old King Roald—wanted to be in his cabinet of advisors, but then Jonathon took over and brought in all fresh leaders, younger ones, his friends mostly. Nelson hid out at his estates for awhile and laid low. Some think it might have driven him a little crazy. His only son, the one that visits, was sent to train for knighthood, fought in some small things, but ultimately lost his right arm and had to ride a desk for the rest of his life. But he's devoted to his father, comes in every week to see him."

"And does he have grandchildren to visit him too?" she asked, trying to seem nonchalant. To think she was driven to investigating her own betrothed like this!

The healer smirked a moment at a thought. "Yes, a son who is a knight as well. See, Greer of Gethin, Nelson's son, married his own cousin to keep the bloodlines more contained, and you know that close marriages usually result in..." the healer waved her hands around her head to imply 'crazy.' "Jedrek is his name and some unusual things have happened around him, ever since he was a page here."

"Things like…" Laurel prompted, attempting to sound only mildly curious as she laid another sheet on the top of a neat stack.

"You know, he was often in trouble for fighting, more so than the other boys. He caused trouble in the City as well—getting in tavern brawls and being brought back to the palace by the Provost's Guard. He was accused of killing two commoners at one point, but I think the charges were waived by a technicality. I remember seeing him in here quite a few times… A few servant girls came in too saying their bruises were by his hand, but again nothing was ever proven. It just seemed like he wasn't all the way put together, that boy."

Laurel's heart sank with each word. A fighter, a killer, a rapist? It was one thing to kill an enemy in battle, but quite another to look for trouble in the Lower City. Maybe it was self-defense, she reasoned. Maybe he could not choose to walk away. And servant girls could lie or be confused. Maybe the woman was exaggerating.

They finished the last sheet and the blue-eyed girl excused herself. She had a party that evening to get ready for. Regardless of news, a court lady's day was never done.