Alan, Jon, Gary, Alex, Raoul and I all returned to Court—Alan and I were now blooded squires—or had experience in fighting against enemy armies—as war heroes, I guess you could say. All six of us went ice skating one winter day and Alex dared me and Alan to skate around the pond once. Then the ice cracked under Alan and I panicked and then I fell through too. I screamed and struggled to get to the surface, but kept screaming. Raoul grabbed me and yanked me to safety and carried me inside. Alan and I, working together, healed my legs and never told anyone—when Duke Gareth asked me what happened I said, "I fell down, your Grace." He looked at me and said, "Great Mithros, lad, couldn't you think of a better excuse?" I shrugged.
Alan and I began counting down the days to the day we'd enter the Chamber of the Ordeal starting on our seventeenth birthdays. Jon and Raoul told us to relax, and then Alan told Gary the truth, and I told Alex, who muttered, "So that's why I like you, Fabiethe." I sighed, and said, "Alex, I'm sorry, but I can't. I love Raoul." He grinned and said, "I'd figured that out since you try so hard not to show it." I punched him.
The next eighteen months for Alan passed quickly and, the next sixteen months for me passed just as quickly—I'm two months younger than Thom and Alanna.