George wrapped up his affairs in Port Caynn as quickly as possible after receiving the letter from his mother. It seemed he was unavoidably going to cross paths with Alanna again anyway, so no sense hiding anymore. Besides, he missed the bustle of the capital.

Before he knew it, he was back in Corus and drinking with his new stepfather-to-be.

"As I'm sure you know, the way Tortallan law works, my marrying your mother doesn't mean much for you in terms of rank or inheritance," Myles was explaining.

George made a brushing motion with his hand. "I didn't expect anything. I'm happy as I am."

"Are you?" Myles asked. "Because I was rather hoping you would let me formally adopt you and make you my heir."

George set down the glass he had been holding and stared incredulously at Myles. "I'm rarely caught by surprise," he said finally, "but you've managed it. I'm honored, but think you might find some...resistance if you tried to have me turned noble."

"The Provost has already inked the pardon. It just needs to be signed," Myles said matter-of-factly.

George raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't say anything.

"Let me explain what I had in mind before we deal with the technicalities," Myles continued. "I have no heir, and your mother and I are far past the age to change that. I've never been overly worried about my legacy, but I would like to know I was leaving Olau and the rest of my estate in good hands."

"So you're askin' the most notorious local criminal?" George asked glibly.

Myles smiled. "If enjoying the game of making money is a vice, then it's one we share. As to the rest, you're a good and fair ruler in a place where no one would expect you to be such, and that speaks volumes. The fact that you sustained close friendships with two of the most noble-minded people I know speaks still more."

George sat back in his chair as he absorbed the unexpected praise.

Myles continued, "You would, however, have to give up that particular job and stay on the right side of the law."

"I wouldn't know what to do with myself without the rogue," George said honestly.

"That brings me to the next reason I had for adopting you. I would like to have a skilled and trusted son to work with me in my endeavors. I think you would be an excellent partner in honest trade and some of my research. I also believe myself one of Prince Jonathan's closest allies. I know you've already done much for him as his friend, but I would sleep better if he had a man of your skill more directly in his service."

"And what would that mean?" George asked.

"I'm not sure exactly. Perhaps going on fact-finding missions that their majesties don't strictly sanction or traveling with Jon as a companion and protector. For me, it has meant everything from driving mourners out of his room when he was sick to accompanying him to the desert to become the Voice of the Tribes and battling adversaries along the way."

George was silent as he thought it through.

"There is one other thing," Myles said. "Not a requirement, but a consideration. Since I fancy myself a shrewd businessman, I'm hoping to get two for the price of one out of this arrangement."

George waited for him to continue, already resigned to expecting the unexpected.

"If I adopt you, I get a son, but I want a daughter also. Ideally, one who would be of help in the work I had in mind for you. And I'm partial to red-heads."

"As am I," George said, grinning as he caught on to Myles's suggestion. "So, you want me to be Alanna's excuse to go adventurin' and serving Jonathan and whatever else she can't do as a single, respectable lady."

"I'd also like the both of you to be in charge of my fief someday," Myles explained." You each bring different types of experience on that front - and I'd like to call on her without an excuse and buy her gifts just because I want to, but, yes, you've got the general idea."

"You drive a hard bargain, sir, and I can't make promises, but I believe our interests in that realm are aligned."

Suddenly George turned serious, "But what of Jonathan? If the rumors I've heard are true, I'm not sure I'll be his favorite person if I go and snatch up the Lass in question."

"Who do you think managed the pardon?" Myles asked. "Go talk to him yourself, but he doesn't object."

"I'll do that," George said. He fiddled with his drink before adding, "You risk being disappointed - and this whole scheme being for not - if she doesn't accept my offer."

"Nonsense," Myles said. "If you agree to this without her, I'll still have gained plenty. Besides what I've mentioned, what better wedding present could I give your mother than removing you from constant danger? I'm killing three, no, four - five? - many birds with one stone."

"Bird massacre," George said with a grin. "Very gruesome."

"Blood and feathers everywhere," Myles agreed.

Both men chuckled.

"See? If nothing else, I would get you for a son, and I would be a lucky man indeed."

George left their conversation with a great deal to ponder, not least of all the sudden and unexpected longing he felt to hear Myles call him "son" once again.


"Have you made a decision about Myles's offer?" Jonathan asked as they made themselves comfortable in George's chamber at the Dancing Dove.

"I think so. I'm told I have you to thank for the pardon. That must have been quite the conversation," George observed.

"It was easier than I anticipated," Jonathan replied. "Our Provost is a very competent man. I think he knew far more about our relationship than I realized."

"Mayhap, it is time I retire from the rogue then if I'm getting sloppy."

Jonathan snorted a laugh. "I believe you may be the least sloppy person I know."

"Did Myles tell you everything he wants for me?" George asked.

"I take it by 'everything' you mean Alanna? He did," Jonathan said bluntly.

"And you're alright with it?"

Jonathan nodded.

"I must admit I'm surprised. I didn't think you would give up so easily," George said, matching Jonathan for bluntness.

"I'd hardly say 'easily.' I tried my best to win her, but she's dead set against having any part of the crown." Jonathan shifted in his seat to better look Georg in the eye. "I can't change my role, but you can. Obviously, it's her decision that matters, but I'd rather see two of my closest friends happy with each other than cling to bitterness."

"You think it's what she wants?" George asked quietly.

"I do," Jonathan said. "Although she may need some help realizing that. I doubt she'll thank us for orchestrating this behind her back - at least not for a while."

George nodded, and both men drifted into quiet thoughtfulness.

Finally, George asked, "Did you know that Myles is adopting me on the condition that I join him in service to you?"

Jonathan shook his head. "To become a noble, you need to swear allegiance to the crown, which comes with an expectation of obedience to the royal family, but there's no direct requirement of service. I know you've always seen yourself as part of a separate kingdom. I understand what you'd be giving up, but it would be wonderful to have you fully on our side."

"Myles was quite specific about servin' you. And I know the Lass has sworn herself to you. Unless you've let her go in more ways than one?"

"No. She wouldn't want that," Jonathan said quickly.

"Of course not. What did she say when she swore herself to you?"

"She said her life and her sword were mine. That was just after we had left the Black City, and I asked her to be my squire."

George stood and walked the short distance to where Jonathan sat. He started to kneel, but Jonathan stood and stopped him. "Don't, George. You've always treated me like an equal. I don't want that to change."

"It must, though. I can't be a noble in your Court without the occasional bow or 'your highness,' can I? And from one king to a future king, you will at times need to give orders that you don't particularly like givin', and in those moments, allegiance has to trump friendship."

Jonathan still looked skeptical.

"It's a lonely road, being king. But take what I'm offerin', Jon, and never fear that this arrangement will blunt my honesty or dull my friendship."

"Do you really want this? To become just a lord when you're already a king?" Jonathan asked.

"I've enjoyed my time as rogue, and I am loath to give it up, but the life expectancy is rather shorter than I would want, with killin' the rogue, even a former rogue, bein' a ticket to power. Becoming a noble changes that. I can have peace again. Mother can stop her worryin' about me. And while I'm no young lad in desperate need of a father figure, I would very much like to be Myles's son."

"And you want Alanna," Jonathan continued for him.

"'Want' is too mild a word. And as Myles's son, I believe I can give her the life she wants - except for the becomin'-a-knight bit."

Jonathan grimaced. "I'm still working on that."

"Exactly. You love my Lass and my father-to-be, and they love you. You see the people of the rogue as people, not just a problem to be eliminated. You have a lot to learn, but you're willing to learn it. So as I see it, I can do some small good for my people and enjoy the pride of calling myself a king, or I can fully embrace a new life by swearin' fealty to a friend and join the people I care about in bringing about realm-wide change for generations."

The two men held each other's gaze for a long moment.

"Then proceed, but only if you're sure."

George knelt and drew his two most readily accessible knives. "My life, my blades, and my unvarnished friendship are yours, Jonathan. Command me as you will."

Jonathan put a hand on George's shoulder. "I accept your fealty, George Cooper, and vow to return fealty for fealty and honor for honor."

He offered George a hand and helped him back to his feet. When they were back to standing, he kept his grip on George's hand and added, "I'll hold you to your promise about friendship and honesty."

"Do that."

"If you ever want something that is in my power to give, you have only to name it."

George smiled crookedly. "Your healer."

"I said 'that is in my power to give,' but you have my enthusiastic blessing and equally strong envy if you're successful. Beyond that, legally speaking, you'd have to ask Thom."


"Done. If she wants you, she's yours."

Thom thought for a second, then grinned wickedly, adding, "On one condition."

George raised an eyebrow.

"Let me write to her saying I've betrothed her to a nobleman, and then describe for me every detail of her reaction when she reads it."

George returned the wicked grin. "You are an evil, evil man."

"I owe her for all the times she dunked me in the duck pond as children. Do we have an accord...brother?"

George shook his offered hand. "I take no responsibility for the consequences."


Everything felt surreal as George told Marek that he was leaving the Court of the Rogue for good. No one could remember a time in recent history when a rogue had willingly stepped down. All of the previous rogues had gone directly to the Black God. George didn't have the power to appoint his successor - that wasn't how it worked - but he did everything he could to help Marek win allies and assert himself at the right moment.

Once George felt he had done all he could to help Marek and tie up his own loose ends, he planned to disappear for a while since killing him would still be the optimal path to the throne for ambitious thieves. Once he was a noble, he would still have to watch his back, but not nearly as closely. If the Provost had reason to believe that a member of the Court of the Rogue had murdered a noble, it could spell the end of the uneasy peace they maintained, and no one wanted that.

So George had multiple good reasons to go when he finally set off for the Northern Desert.


"George!" Alanna practically shrieked when she stepped out of her tent and saw him. She wanted to run into his arm but stopped when she remembered how they had parted.

"Do you wish me to leave him with you?" The big Bazhir man escorting George asked.

"Yes, thank you," Alanna said, and the man left them alone.

Alanna just stared at him for a moment before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit you?" He asked.

"No, but the way you left things…" Alanna said.

"I know, I said I'd wait for you to come to me, but here I am. And look at you! All tanned and dressed like a Bazhir." He stepped close enough to lift a lock of her hair. "And I missed your red hair while you were playin' Ella."

"Come on inside - I'll get you some water, and we can talk," Alanna said as she opened the tent flap.

"I promised your brother that I'd give you this first thing," George said, exchanging a small envelope for the cup of water Alanna handed him.

She opened the letter and read:

Dearest Alanna,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'll cut right to the chase - I have arranged your marriage to a fine young nobleman. I know you had other plans, but this man is rich, and Trebond could use the money.

I know you'll come to love him in time.

Please don't hate me.

Thom

Alanna stood in complete and utter shock.

"What is it, Lass?" George asked.

She handed him the letter and began to pace.

"Why he thinks he can get away with this...why he would try to do this to me..." she then devolved into a very colorful description of what she thought of Thom and his note.

Finally, she noticed that George was studying her with an amused expression.

"What?" she snapped.

"I'm just trying to memorize your reaction so I can describe it accurately for Thom."

Alanna glared at him. "This is a jest, isn't it? And I just fell for it completely."

"It's no jest. You are betrothed to a nobleman. And he is filthy rich. Myles and Jon approved the match as well."

"Uh-huh. Just get to the punchline," Alanna demanded.

"I will, but first, I have some news of my own."

Alanna threw up her arms in frustration. "Out with it then."

"Mother is to be married, and I'm to be adopted."

"Myles and Eleni?"

George nodded.

"Oh, that's wonderful! But wait, Myles is adopting you? How…?"

"I've put aside my crooked ways. 'Tis the straight and narrow for me now. Or at least the appearance of it," he said with a wink. "I've got a royal pardon with my name on it and everything."

He watched her as her mind spun with all of this new information.

"So then, the punchline..." she said finally, looking searchingly into his eyes.

He dropped to his knees before her and took her hands in his. "No one has any intention of pushing you into this if you aren't willin', least of all me, but your marriage is arranged to the soon-to-be Lord George of Olau, and he sincerely hopes that you'll accept."

Alanna slid down to a seated position and motioned for him to sit next to her. "Lord George of Olau. I like that. But this is a lot to take in. And that letter from Thom didn't help," she said, slapping George on the arm. "I'm so happy for you and Myles and Eleni, but...I need time to process this. The marriage is truly arranged?"

"There's nothin' official," George admitted. "Just an understanding between the three of us that your brother won't stand in the way and that Myles and I want this very much...if it's what you want."

Alanna squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them and tilted her face up to his for a kiss. He gladly took the invitation and kissed her slowly and gently. "Mmm," she breathed as she shifted to lean against him. "I have missed you. There's no question about that. Tell me everything from the beginning."

He wrapped a possessive arm around her. "As my betrothed commands."