Turns out editing the enormous backlog of raw text I have is surprisingly difficult. And here I thought editing existing documents was easier than creating new stuff. I guess they both have their places in the creative process.

There's been a few other things preventing me from working on this. For one, I quit my job. Why? Because the job I moved for last year—the one I was subsequently laid off from due to COVID—is operating again, and they've hired me back! *happy dance* But I'm working longer hours now, so less time for writing. I've also been sick recently—just a cold, not anything worse, but I didn't have the energy to do much other than sleep.

Anyway, onto the chapter!

Lessons

After breakfast the next morning, the pages filed down to the practice courts. Kellie bit her lip to hide her nervousness as Rowan and Pathom were herded away with the older pages. Blond Jarrod was visibly shaking as his sister left him clustered with the other first years in front of two Shang warriors. She nudged him gently, offering a smile.

"Welcome, new pages!" the male warrior called cheerfully, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. "I am Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse, and my colleague here is Allora Halder, the Shang Eagle."

The Horse, Kellie knew, had been a palace fixture since her father's page years. The lines on his face spoke to his age, as did the liberal streaks of gray in his dark hair, but his enthusiasm seemed undimmed. The Shang Eagle, on the other hand… Kellie studied the woman as unobtrusively as she could.

Allora Halder stood only a few inches taller than Kellie did. Her light brown hair was pulled into a neat bun, where a few silver threads were discernible, despite only appearing to be in her late twenties. She was dressed in the same practice clothes as the Horse, with the Shang crest centered on her chest.

While Hakuin led the older pages to the other side of the yard, Allora wasted no time in beginning to toss the first-years into the dirt as though they weighed nothing. "Slap the ground and roll forward! If you can't learn how to fall, you'll never learn real Shang fighting!" she called, her voice far louder than Kellie would have guessed from such a tiny woman.

It had rained during the night, and Kellie's hands were covered in mud by the time the bell sounded and Shang fighting turned to staff practice. The first-years were lined up and the older pages paired off to demonstrate each of the basic striking and blocking motions. Kellie studied the two closest to her. One was a lanky boy with reddish-blond hair, which she noted was a bit longer than most of the other boys kept theirs. The other was Cassius of Tirragen.

"That's Toras of Rosemark," murmured the boy next to Kellie, the tall Everett of Shaila. "He's my sponsor, and the other boys told me he's an excellent staff fighter."

"The other boy is Cassius of Tirragen," Kellie murmured back to Everett, seeing the expectant look in his cool blue eyes. "I don't know how he is at combat, but Rowan and Pathom say he's the smartest of all the pages."

Everett nodded, and Kellie went back to watching the demonstration. Their instructor, a brown-skinned man with bulging muscles, a shaved head, and a bellowing voice, introduced himself as Fenric Proust.

"Show these new boys a high strike!" he ordered abruptly.

Kellie fought to suppress a scowl—she wasn't a boy, and their instructors shouldn't address the pages as such when there was more than one female in their midst.

The sound of wood clacking on wood soon filled the yard. Once Master Proust decided that the new pages had seen enough, he ordered them to pair off and try each strike for themselves. Everett turned to Kellie, appraising her coolly, before he began to attempt the strikes. Kellie, grateful to start out by blocking to give her more time to get a feel for the weapon, took each blow with ease. Without taking her eyes from Everett's staff, she considered him from behind her lashes. He was hitting with very little force, and there was a hesitancy to each strike.

"Don't tell me you're holding back just because I'm a girl," she muttered under her breath, loudly enough that Everett could hear, but no one else.

"Never," returned Everett, wheezing a bit. "But I've never used a staff before."

"Neither have I," Kellie replied.

"Enough chatter!" boomed Proust, causing Everett to jump and aim his next strike poorly. Kellie let out a yelp as the wooden weapon struck her fingers.

"Keep going!" ordered Sir Merric, from the other end of the line. "Unless there's an injury serious enough to take to a healer, we keep training! Switch it up now!"

Archery was next, and Kellie struggled to string and draw the bow she'd been given. Her aim admittedly wasn't terrible, but she had a very long way to go before she was as good as the dark-haired girl among the fourth-year pages, who looked as though she'd been born holding a bow in her hand, so natural was her stance.

By the time the bell rang again and the new pages were told to pick a mount for riding, Kellie's hands were in miserable shape. Her palms were aching from repeatedly slapping the ground, her knuckles were bruised from being smacked with a staff, and her fingertips were tender from drawing her bowstring.

Desperately grasping for something positive about her performance, she was only able to say that her skills in each subject were thoroughly average. At least she wasn't outright terrible, she thought to herself with gloomy humor.

Releasing a bit of her Gift into her swollen hands and breathing a sigh of relief at the icy fire that eased the sting considerably, Kellie turned her attention to the Palace mounts. A large bay stallion had already been selected by Everett, the tallest of the first years—the blond boy was now saddling his new mount. Jarrod was timidly holding an apple out to a friendly-looking gray mare, who sniffed it before delicately taking it from his hand.

"Mouse there'll be a good 'un for you," came a man's voice from the shadows. Jarrod jumped, startled; Kellie had flinched herself. The man came into view, and she could see that he was dressed like a hostler, and also that he was much older than she had expected. In his fifties, perhaps. "Didn't mean to frighten yehs, there." He offered a smile.

Kellie moved further down the row as the man continued speaking to Jarrod behind her. "Mouse is a friendly one and a hard worker. She'll do as she's told, an' she'll stay out of trouble."

A handsome black gelding with a white star on his forehead and white socks on both front legs caught Kellie's eye. She offered him an apple, which he ignored in favor of giving her a good looking over, before evidently coming to a decision and politely taking the treat from her.

"Good choice, miss," the hostler's voice came from behind her. "'E's called Blaze, an' 'is saddle and tack are on the wall there."

"Thank you, Master Hostler," Kellie replied politely. "Have you worked at the palace for long?"

"Jus' Stefan, if you please, miss," the man answered. "I worked in these stables since the Lioness were just Page Alan, before she decided to go on an' be a lady." He winked at Ulasu. "I seen the pages come an' go for more'n forty years, now."

"Stefan," Kellie repeated, nodding. "Are you the stable master?"

"That I am, miss," the man replied, bobbing his head. A lock of hair fell into his face at the motion. Kellie fought the urge to giggle—it looked exactly like a horse's forelock. Luckily, the man moved on down the line. She heard him telling Marius something about his own choice of mount as she saddled Blaze and led him outside. The gelding politely avoided each and every other horse in the line, sidestepping the lovely palomino mare that Farouk was patting.

"That horse of yours is a real gentleman," Ulasu murmured, coming up to stand next to Kellie. Farouk, overhearing, let out a quick snicker that he quickly muffled. His mare stood at attention beside him, ignoring Ulasu's chestnut that was sticking an inquisitive nose at the other horse.

"That's enough, Cinnamon," Ulasu muttered to her horse. "Behave, or Stefan will have words with you."

Cinnamon gave the stocky girl an innocent look.

Once all the new pages were circled up with their new horses, the riding master, who'd been introduced as Marsh Redford, gave the call to mount up. Kellie did so, struggling a bit as Blaze was much taller than Sunset back home, but was able to wiggle awkwardly into the saddle after only a minute.

"Have your mounts walk in a nice line," called Redford, whose face was well tanned from the sun. "Slow, mind you. I don't want to see any trotting, and you—" He eyed Marius of Irimor sternly. "—keep your eyes on your own horse, not on the older pages."

Marius blushed, and Kellie was grateful she'd glanced away from the older pages in the tilting lanes before Redford had spotted her. As each first year walked their new mount across the lawn, she realized that she was one of the best riders in her year. Jarrod was proving to be as timid here as he had been all morning, although, to his credit, he was trying to pat Mouse's black mane gently while speaking softly to her. Everett, not looking so tall anymore, was kept busy trying to keep his lively mount from investigating something or other, and Marius was still distracted by the older pages. Ulasu wasn't bad, but only Farouk looked at home in the saddle.

Her horse deserved most of the credit. Blaze was a polite creature, as she'd already noted, but now she was seeing that he was very obedient as well. She'd made a good choice. Watching Ulasu struggle to keep Cinnamon from poking her nose into everything, and Everett's bay, Kellie was glad Blaze was so biddable. She was able to complete all the obstacles given them with little difficulty, earning herself a gruff, "Very good, Page Kelanna," from Redford.

"I suppose I had to be good at something," she murmured tiredly to the horse, as she brushed him down after riding practice was over. Blaze nosed at her hair, and she quickly leaned to the side. "Don't do that! You'll get hurt!" He eyed her as if to say, Oh, is that so? and she glared back. "I mean it. Don't bite my hair, unless you want pointy spikes in your mouth."

"Wash up for lunch!" called Sir Merric from outside. "You have half a bell, and I expect you to be punctual!"

Kellie finished with her tack and waddled stiffly outside to find her sponsor looking at Pathom as though expecting something from his friend. Ulasu appeared beside her a moment later, staring at him as well.

"No, you tell them!" Rowan was insisting.

"Ahem… Rowan, Pathom… shall we trade?" an imperious voice spoke from behind them. All four turned to find blonde Astara of Fenrigh tapping her foot impatiently. "I will take Kelanna and Ulasu, if you take Jarrod?"

Though Astara phrased her words as a question, it was clear she expected to be obeyed. Rowan nodded quickly. "Yes, of course, Astara. We were just discussing how to… ahem…" He trailed off.

Astara turned to her brother. "Go with Rowan and Pathom, please, Jarrod. Boys are not allowed in the women's baths, and girls are not permitted in the men's. I will see you at lunch."

Kellie assumed she was meant to follow the tall blonde girl, and did so, Ulasu beside her and a pace ahead. "I feel like I was trampled by a herd of wild kudarung," the stocky girl murmured as they entered the bathhouse.

"Kuda… what?" Kellie questioned, her tongue tripping over the harsh-sounding word.

"Ku-da-rung," Ulasu repeated, drawing out the foreign term slowly. "Winged horses, you call them. Lots of them live in the Isles, and almost everybody has at least seen one, if not gotten close."

"Ah." Kellie eyed the other girl. "And how would you know what being trampled by winged horses feels like?"

Ulasu grinned, showing very even, white teeth. "There's a reason the queen tells people not to approach them. Especially people like little girls who are 'too adventurous for their own good,' as Ma says."

Kellie squinted, not sure whether Ulasu was joking or not. Her line of thinking was cut off, however, when Astara explained "There got to be enough girl pages a few years ago, that Lord Padraig decided a ladies' bathhouse was necessary."

Kellie nodded; she remembered hearing about that. Or, more accurately, she remembered her father's reaction. Neal had chuckled wickedly upon learning that there were now enough female pages to warrant the construction of a bathhouse for their use, saying he couldn't wait to hear the conservatives sputter about it.

"It's also used by the female Riders," Astara went on, "and other women who live in the palace. It's become the custom that the older girls among the pages take responsibility for showing the new ones this one thing, since the boys aren't allowed inside."

Astara was undressing as she explained, and slipped into the large central pool a moment later, carefully placing her spectacles on top of her clothing. Kellie followed suit, yelping as she submerged herself in the hot water. The stone benches were large enough for twice as many people. Kellie counted; only four young women were in the bath, not counting herself and Ulasu, and there were at least three more pools that she could see.

She quickly performed her own wash, noting the now-dried mud on her hands and realizing she would likely be covered in dust if not for yesterday's rain.

One of the older girls leaned forward expectantly. Kellie recognized her as the fourth year who had been trouncing everybody else on the archery court earlier. Her dark hair had been pulled into a tight coronet style then, but here in the baths, she had let it down, revealing it to be as long, black, and straight as Kellie's own. Her eyes were an unusually light shade of brown, almost gold; between those, her pointed chin, and the relaxed way she was lounging on the bench, she put Kellie in mind of a cat, and the interest gleaming brightly in her eyes did nothing to dispel the impression.

"Well?" the girl asked, her gaze fixed on Astara. "Shall we begin?"

Begin what? Kellie wondered. The other two girls—one blonde, one brunette—also turned their gazes toward Astara.

With a flick of her wrist, Astara reached over and retrieved her spectacles. She sat them gently on her face before announcing, "It has become something of a tradition among the girl pages, for us to all go round on our first day and explain why we chose this path. Best to get used to saying it now, because you will be asked that question nearly every day once the Court season begins. I am Astara of Fenrigh, and I'm a fourth-year page."

Kellie had been wondering how a house as conservative as Fenrigh was known to be had allowed their daughter to train as a page, and tried to hide her curiosity.

"Go on and tell, then," murmured the other blonde, an exceptionally pretty girl. Her slate-blue eyes were fixed on Kellie and Ulasu.

Astara nodded, and continued, "I have three older brothers, and they used to let me join them in their swordplay lessons. My father is an active knight, away from home a lot, so he encouraged me to learn to defend myself… though it took some convincing for him to allow me to enter page training."

The other three girls were introduced as Mae of Carmine Tower, the catlike girl; Clarine of Whitethorn, the blonde; and Erynne of Dunlath, the brunette. Mae spoke next. "The last knight of Carmine Tower died in the Tusaine War, forty years ago. It was time our fief did its duty and had another. My brother couldn't do it. I don't especially want to marry, so having no reputation to speak of doesn't mean much to me. I'm a fourth-year, too."

Erynne of Dunlath, who quickly stated that she was a third-year page, offered her explanation next. "My aunt committed treason by secretly allying with Emperor Ozorne of Carthak. Mother fought against her sister, which is why we were allowed to keep Dunlath, but the fief was dropped from duchy to earldom as punishment. I wanted to show those yammering conservatives that my family is loyal to the Crown."

Clarine of Whitethorn, a second-year, had an excited gleam in her eye as she spoke. "My mother ran away from the convent when she was fifteen and joined the Queen's Riders, against her mother's wishes. She ended up being disowned, but her brother is the lord now and they get on well. When I said I wanted to enter page training, Mother wouldn't hear of anyone telling me no. So how about you tell us, new girls, why you are here?"

Ulasu spoke first. Kellie was envious of her new friend's confidence as she explained, "I've wanted to be a warrior nearly my entire life. Women warriors aren't unusual in the Copper Isles, and I thought I might join the Queen's Guard when I was old enough. Then we moved to Tortall last year, and Grandmama convinced me to try for my shield."

Erynne leaned forward. "You mean the Lioness, right? She's wonderful."

"She is," Kellie murmured. When all eyes turned on her, she looked down bashfully. "I'm the heir to Queenscove. It's my duty to serve as a knight."

It was a much simpler explanation than any of the others had given, but Kellie's words were met with nods. The serious atmosphere devolved into chatter and gossip. Kellie remained quiet, offering minimal replies when a question was directed to her, but mostly taking the time to observe each of the girls in turn. Clarine and Erynne seemed to be close. Clarine was startlingly pretty, with honey-colored hair and delicate features. She was talkative and animated, moving her hands around with every word. Erynne, by contrast, was rather plain-featured. Her wavy brown hair was cut short, and there were freckles dotting her cheeks and nose, her shoulders, and the tops of her breasts. She shot occasional longing looks toward a book sitting on the bathhouse floor behind her, far enough away that it was in little danger of getting splashed, but still within reach.

"Neither of you looks as though you have need of a breastband just yet," Astara commented, her eyes skimming over her temporary charges. "When you reach the point that you do, you only need to go to Mistress Reidel at the Rider barracks and ask. She outfits all the women Riders, and keeps things on hand for the lady pages and squires."

Mae continued to lounge on the bench for most of their time in the bath. When she reached up to begin tying her hair back, it seemed to be a signal for the older girls, who all scrambled out of the pool to dry off and dress for lunch.

Ulasu nudged her in the ribs as they were leaving. "Well? What did you learn? I saw you watching all the other girls."

Somehow unsurprised that Ulasu had observed her observing the others, Kellie answered with a slight shrug. "Erynne likes books, and Clarine has trouble sitting still. Astara is a little bossy. But I'm sure you noticed all of that yourself."

"I did," Ulasu answered lightly. "Come on, I'm hungry. Let's hurry back up the hill."

Kellie hadn't been aware of her growling belly until then, but Ulasu's words brought it to her attention. "You're right. Let's go."

Lunch in the pages' dining hall was more subdued than any meal Kellie had seen so far. The hot bath had done wonders for her aching muscles, but she was still sore from the morning's lessons. It seemed she wasn't the only one who thought so, she realized, as Jarrod sat down next to his sister, wincing.

"Bacon roll?" Astara offered, waving a platterful of the aforementioned treats in front of Kellie's nose.

The delicious aroma of the still-steaming rolls was irresistible, and Kellie took one. Astara passed the platter to her brother, and then over to Rowan, Pathom, and Ulasu on the opposite side of the table.

Kellie tore into her meal with an enthusiasm that would have earned her a disapproving frown from Mistress Selwyn, and an admonishment to eat like a lady from her mother. Her table manners were refined compared to her fellow pages, however, and her body, unused to the workout she had given it today, was appeased by the food.

"So…" Pathom looked over his empty plate to eye Kellie and Jarrod, then turned to his side to give the same look to Ulasu. "After lunch are the academic classes. Reading and writing is first—"

"But I already know how to read and write!" Ulasu interrupted him, sounding indignant.

Pathom shrugged. "So do most of the new pages, but my pa says that wasn't the case when he was a page, and that wasn't so long ago as we might think it was. Only first-years have that class now, anyway; us older pages get Master Korso's class on plants and animals. How about you, Kellie, Jarrod? Do you both know how to read and write?"

"Y-yes," Jarrod stammered out.

Kellie offered a nod. "Yes, I do. My papa is very serious about book learning."

"So is my ma," Ulasu agreed, offering a wide smile. "I had to learn to read and write in two languages."

"So did I," Kellie replied, "and Yamani doesn't even use the same alphabet as Common. Does Kyprish?"

Ulasu nodded. "It does. Can you speak Yamani, as well?"

"Of course. Mama insisted we all learn her language." Though since Kellie used the language primarily among her own family, her grasp on the various formalities was probably flimsy at best.

"Would you… be willing to teach me?" Ulasu asked, with a hesitance that Kellie could already tell was uncharacteristic for her year-mate. "I like languages."

Kellie stared at her new friend for a long moment. "I suppose I can try to teach you Yamani. It's not anything like Common, though.

Ulasu nodded. "That's all right, neither is Kyprish. How about we learn from each other? You teach me Yamani, I teach you Kyprish. Deal?"

Kellie nodded firmly. "Deal."

"You won't have much time for language lessons with all the work you'll be assigned," Rowan cautioned them. "Nobody ever completes it all, you'll be lucky if you can even escape your first week without getting any punishment work."

"They'll learn soon enough," Pathom replied, reaching over and affectionately ruffling Ulasu's hair. "Now that that's settled, perhaps you first-years would like to hear about the afternoon classes?" Ulasu poked at his hand with the flat side of her knife, with more force than was necessary if Pathom's wince was any indication.

The first afternoon bell sounded soon afterward, and the pages began the trudge down the hallway to their classrooms.

Reading and writing, their sponsors had said, along with mathematics, were taught by Mithran priests who had no sense of humor whatsoever. As Kellie entered the classroom, she sized up the shaven-headed man at the front of the room, and came to the silent conclusion that the older pages were right. The man—she guessed him to be in his fifties—had frown lines etched deep into his jaw, and his arms were folded across his chest as he glared sternly at the pages. Kellie hurried to take a seat.

The man introduced himself as Master Marsden, and immediately assigned each of the new pages a section of the Book of Mithros to read aloud, and a longer section to copy out by hand. Kellie internally groaned—the assigned passage was a very long, very dry account of the history of Mithran worship. Still, she set the book down on the desk she'd selected and opened it to the proper passage, preparing her charcoal and parchment.

It took her nearly the entire bell, but it was worth it to see Master Marsden give a nod as he looked over the passage she'd copied. "Your penmanship is acceptable, Page Kelanna. Review this reading and have a report on it written for tomorrow's lesson."

"Yes, Master Marsden," Kellie replied, taking back the completed work. Most of the other first-years had completed their work as well, but Ulasu hadn't been so lucky. Kellie didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Master Marsden hadn't made any attempt to lower his voice.

"If you cannot perform even this most basic task, Page Ulasu, then you do not belong here," the man informed her sternly. "I suggest you reconsider your chosen path if this is the best you can produce."

Kellie winced in sympathy as Ulasu replied, "Yes, Master Marsden," in a very subdued tone. The second afternoon bell sounded just then, and the relief that flickered over Ulasu's face was unmistakable, even though it was gone a moment later. The next class was mathematics, and Kellie knew she wouldn't do so well here. A stiff poke in the ribs after she'd sat down made her wince, and the voice that hissed at her promised trouble.

"Hey, new girl—you're in my seat."

Kellie looked toward the voice that had spoken, finding its owner to be one of the older pages. She didn't know his name—he wasn't one who had sponsored a new page—but he was staring at her intensely enough to make her uncomfortable.

"Is there a problem, Page Hayden?" inquired the instructor, Master Valorian, in his papery voice.

The boy—Hayden—quickly replied "No, Master Valorian," and sat down in the nearest empty seat, but Kellie could still feel his eyes burning into her back. She fought the urge to squirm in her seat—Master Valorian hadn't mentioned anything about the pages having assigned seats in his classroom, so why was Hayden making such a fuss over not getting to sit there?

Mathematics had never been her strength, but with Hayden's glare still focused on her, she could barely concentrate. She did well enough on the basic sums the priest has assigned her, but when he ordered her to learn the thing called "geometry" she'd struggled mightily. As the bell sounded, she comforted herself with the knowledge that while she hadn't understood the complicated shapes at all, at least she hadn't been alone—of the other first-years, Everett, Marius, and Farouk seemed just as confused by it as she was. Jarrod, surprisingly, had completed the problems he'd been assigned with ease, the first time Kellie had seen him look confident all day. Ulasu, too, had showed no signs of struggling with her work, a reversal from the previous class, as Master Valorian had commended her as they were leaving.

"Next class is history," Rowan informed Kellie in the hall. She had to take three steps for every two of his, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he was slowing down for her. "This one's better than the others. Baron Sir Myles of Olau isn't the usual sort of teacher—he's old, for one, I think he's in his eighties."

"Eighty-two," piped in Ulasu, from a few steps behind.

Rowan stopped short and stared at his friend's charge. "How do you know that?"

Ulasu shrugged one shoulder. "He's my great-grandfather. Grandmama keeps trying to get him to retire, but he says he loves teaching too much to give it up."

Rowan seemed to accept this and continued. "He's a scholar. Well, he's also a knight, but the last time he did anything knightly…" He pondered a minute. "I think it was the Tusaine War. When King Jonathan was Crown Prince and the Lioness was a squire."

They took their seats only a moment before a man entered the room. Kellie studied him through her lashes, as she'd done with all of her other teachers so far. His hair, what little he still had, was entirely white, and he walked with the slow gait of the elderly, but his brown eyes were lively and he offered the new pages a warm smile. "Welcome to Tortallan history and law, new pages. We touch on the history of other countries as well, when I find it appropriate. Today, for example, who can tell me who rules in Sarain?"

A hand was raised, though Kellie couldn't see who it was. The person didn't stand to answer, "The current ruler is Samang jin Cadao. He was a general in the Saren army before he took over the kingdom."

"A correct and complete answer. Thank you, Page Toras." Sir Myles nodded. "And how did Samang jin Cadao rise to power?"

Erynne raised her hand and waited for Sir Myles to nod at her before answering, "He secretly treated with the chieftains of several K'miri clans, offering them official titles and lands under his rule, before gathering his followers and mounting attacks on all of his opponents. Once he was firmly established as warlord, he married a K'miri chieftain's daughter and made good on his word to give the K'mir tribes places among the lowlanders. There have been a few attempts to overthrow him since, but none have succeeded—jin Cadao was one of the youngest generals during the Saren civil war, and he had a reputation as being a shrewd tactician even then."

"In other words, he fights smarter instead of harder," quipped Ulasu, drawing chuckles from the other pages as she scrawled away at the parchment in front of her. Kellie couldn't make out a word of it.

"Indeed," Sir Myles replied. "And how does this situation affect Tortall?"

The discussion continued from there. One page pointed out that Samang jin Cadao was distantly related to Queen Thayet, which sparked an argument over whether or not the Conté rulers should have married one of the younger princesses to the warlord's son. Kellie did her best to write down as much of the new information as she could, and was startled when the fourth bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"Can you make out a word of that?" Pathom teased Ulasu as the pages moved to their next class, etiquette. He pointed at the parchment clutched in her hand, covered with scrawls and smudges.

"Of course I can," Ulasu retorted. She held the page in front of her face.

Kellie squinted at the cramped words. She certainly couldn't read a word of it. "Wait a moment… this isn't even written in Common!" No wonder she couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Ulasu shrugged, unrepentant. "I learned to read and write in Kyprish before I learned Common. Why shouldn't I write down the lessons in a language I understand better and can write faster?"

"You won't be able to do that for Master Marsden's class," Pathom warned her. "It might be for the best that you get used to writing in Common. It'll become easier the more you do it."

The balding man at the front of the classroom frowned severely at them, putting an end to the argument. He introduced himself as Master Upton Oakbridge, and Kellie had to look down at her desk to hide her surprise. She recognized that name; her papa had called Master Oakbridge an "exacting old fusspot" along with some ruder names, and had consoled himself with the fact that surely the man had fretted himself into a heart attack or three by now, and could no longer beat the intricacies of etiquette that only he cared about into the heads of the poor, unsuspecting pages and squires. Yuki had smacked him with her fan for that, saying that he shouldn't wish an early death on the man.

By the end of the class, Kellie no longer entirely agreed with her mama. Master Oakbridge had drilled them all in the ways to greet nobles of various rank, and practicing so many bows was torture on her already bruised body. It was a relief to escape and head to her final class of the day, her magical basics class with Master Irial.

As the only Gifted first-year, her lessons would be only her and her instructor. She approached the door and was met by a man, dressed like a Mithran priest and shaven-headed like the others, but much younger, perhaps thirty. He was immersed in something at his desk, only looking up at the sound of her timid knock, and greeted her kindly. "You must be Kelanna, yes? I am Weston Irial. Please, come in." He shoved some things off to the side of his desk, leaving a space for her to work.

Kellie took the seat he'd indicated, wondering how a man as disorganized as Master Irial seemed to be had made it through a single year of religious schooling, let alone passed his examinations. But that wasn't for her to judge.

The door to the classroom—more like a large office, really, with none of the desks that filled her other classrooms—was propped open with a stick of wood. Kellie wondered if Master Irial usually kept his door open, or if this was yet another restriction of her being a lady page. The master caught her looking.

"I almost always keep the door open in the hot season," he explained. "It creates a better breeze than the window alone, and I simply can't bear the heat. I'm a northerner by birth, you know—raised just outside of Trebond, until I left for the City of the Gods, and I've never gotten used to Corus summers." He chuckled. "That's enough about myself, though. You're here to learn magic, not to listen to an old man prattle on."

Kellie couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. Priest or no, she liked this man already.

"Tell me, Page Kelanna, what can you do with your Gift?" Master Irial inquired.

"My abilities lie mostly in healing," Kellie answered, doing her best to speak clearly but also softly enough to not disturb anyone who might be nearby. "That's my main Gift, from my father—healing runs strong in the Queenscove family."

Master Irial made a note. "Can you do anything besides healing? Anything at all? It doesn't matter if you can do it well or not. I must determine the extent of your power before I can begin training you."

"I can kindle sparks," Kellie answered, trying to think of any other magical abilities she'd tried to see if she had. "I can cast a weak mage light, and move small objects a few paces." The master wrote down each of her responses, nodding. Growing more confident, Kellie continued, "I can amplify sounds." That sounded like an unsuspicious way to describe her eavesdropping spell. "But I don't think I can do much else."

"We will see." The master retrieved a small tray of objects from a shelf behind him and laid it on the desk, handing her a small chunk of crystal. "Please try to make the crystal light up. This exercise isn't all that different from creating a mage light."

Kellie did her best, holding the small piece of quartz in both hands and trying to envision it glowing with emerald-colored fire. She didn't realize just how much effort she was putting in until Master Irial laid one hand on her shoulder. "That's enough, Page Kelanna. I don't want you passing out from overusing your Gift, especially not on the first trial. You can try to light the crystal again tomorrow." His eyes twinkled a bit; Kellie tried to smile at him, hiding her disappointment that she'd been unable to do as he'd asked. Taking the crystal from her, he continued, "Try this instead."

A small mound of tinder was laid before her. Kellie felt her shoulders slump in relief—this she could do. With a snap of her fingers and a few words her father had taught her, the small pile of wood shavings sparked and burned merrily for a few seconds, before burning itself out and leaving nothing but ash.

"Very good, Page Kelanna." Master Irial made another note on the page in front of him. "I can see you have practiced conjuring sparks."

The entire bell passed that way, with the priest offering her various tasks and noting whether or not she could accomplish each one. Kellie suspected the hour was nearing its end when Master Irial set the tray back on the shelf. "That will be enough of that for today, I think. You say that your Gift is rather specialized in healing, but you can perform a wide range of other magical feats. Does your mother have the Gift as well?"

"Mama has a small Gift," Kellie answered slowly. "I think that's where I get the other talents. My sisters have less power than I do, but more of an all-purpose Gift that Papa and I."

"Ah, I understand." Master Irial made another note, finishing just the sixth bell rang. He looked up with a smile. "Well, that was good timing. Run along to supper now. We will continue this tomorrow."

xxxxx

After the evening meal, which Kellie took with Rowan and a few other pages whose names she didn't know, Rowan led her to one of the libraries set aside for use by the pages and squires. "We're allowed to study in here until lights-out, as long as we aren't loud. Most of the pages prefer to study in a large group; that way if they're having a hard time with something, chances are someone else understands it well and can explain it."

Kellie nodded in acknowledgement. Lights-out was at the tenth bell, and pages were expected to be in their rooms afterwards. She surveyed the library's tables and chairs. A few tables had been pushed together to create larger workspaces, but for the most part, each table had three or four pages working at it. She noticed that neither the sneering boy from a few days ago, nor Hayden, the one who'd glared at her in mathematics, was present, and couldn't help feeling relieved.

Rowan took one of the empty seats, indicating that Kellie should sit beside him. She did so, and took out the poem she'd been assigned in her first class, a stylized account of the Great Southern Desert, by an early fourth century Barzunni poet. She read it again, trying to familiarize herself with the writer's point of view.

"Has anyone gotten the answer to the fourth problem Master Valorian gave us?" one boy asked a few minutes later.

"Oh, I can show you that," Astara replied. "It's easier to watch someone else do it first."

Kellie looked up from her analysis of the poem in time to see a Bazhir boy give Astara a grateful smile. "Thank you. I still don't understand mathematics very well."

"What class of immortals are spidrens?" wondered Jarrod, tapping his quill anxiously against the table.

Half a dozen pages chorused, "Class Four." Rowan continued, Kellie suspected solely for her benefit, "Immortals are classed on a scale from one to five, taking into account things like diet, intelligence, ability to communicate with humans, and so on. Tkaa will only cover one at a time, so it's not too hard to learn what class each falls into." He frowned. "Unfortunately, you do need to learn the classes of at least the more common types of immortal, the ones you're likely to encounter. Spidrens are one, and centaurs, merpeople, Stormwings, hurroks, unicorns… those are the ones we see the most of, anyway."

"Why don't the Gifted pages study immortals?" Kellie asked Rowan.

"You will," Rowan promised her. "After Midwinter, it's assumed those with the Gift have mastered at least the basics, and they're moved to immortals study, while the unGifted pages learn about magical theory, because the old training master, Lord Padraig, decided that even those without the Gift can benefit from knowing how magic works. You'll also get instruction on wild magic, tribal magic, and such from Master Numair and the Wildmage in your second year."

Every few minutes, someone would have a question, and another page, usually an older one, would assist for a minute. Kellie finished her written report of the poem, grateful that she enjoyed poetry, and moved on to her mathematics problems. These gave her more trouble.

She'd finished only one of the six problems, with a good amount of difficulty, when the palace bell chimed the eighth hour. Groaning quietly, she continued to try and make the odd shapes make more sense. After finishing the third, she'd had enough, and opened the text that Sir Myles had given the pages to read, hoping that working on something else for a bit would help her mind feel less muddled.

The chapter assigned was a detailed account of Samang jin Cadao's rise from general to warlord, recorded by a soldier who'd served under him. Kellie found the account fascinating. The images seemed to come to life in her head, much more interesting than the etiquette text Master Oakbridge had assigned. She was surprised to turn the page and find it was the last page of the chapter. The ninth bell sounded.

Wincing, she went back to her mathematics. The three remaining problems had not magically solved themselves while she'd been reading, and Kellie resigned herself to struggling with these for the next several months.

"That one's not right."

Kellie jumped; she hadn't noticed Cassius hovering behind her shoulder. The shy boy gave her an apologetic smile, and pointed to the fourth problem, the one she'd just finished.

"See here? You dropped a variable. It's supposed to be three x divided by four, not two x."

Kellie looked over her carefully-copied figures and realized Cassius was right. She poked at it with her charcoal, adding a curl on the end of the "2" so it was now a "3." "So it's…" She frowned at the numbers again, crossing out her original answer and writing a new one. "Is that right?"

Cassius looked at the numeral Kellie had written at the bottom, and nodded approvingly. "Yes, that's what I got."

Across the table, Ulasu let out a happy sigh. "I love mathematics, don't you?"

"Not at all," Kellie mumbled, beginning work on the fifth problem.

"Why not?"

Kellie shrugged. "It's never come easily to me. Why do you like it so much?"

"Because it's always the same. I told you I grew up speaking Kyprish, right?" Ulasu had a faraway look in her eyes, but Kellie nodded anyway. "Well, learning to speak Common wasn't so hard, but remembering to speak the proper language once we moved to Tortall was. That's why I like mathematics—because two and two will always make four, no matter what language you're using." She listed off a string of words. "That's the numbers one through ten in Kyprish."

Kellie did her best to stumble through the words. Her tongue felt clumsy, and she suspected that her pronunciation was horrible. Ulasu nodded anyway. Kellie repeated the words a second time, trying to familiarize herself with the foreign sounds.

"That was better," Ulasu told her, once she'd finished.

"It didn't sound anything like how you were speaking," Kellie mumbled dejectedly.

"You have a Tortallan accent," Ulasu pointed out. "You aren't going to sound like a native speaker, because you aren't one. If you're going to learn Kyprish, you have to start somewhere."

There was sense to that, Kellie decided. Despite her outgoing nature, Ulasu seemed a very practical person. She repeated the numbers a third time.

"Yes, you've got it," Ulasu complimented her.

Kellie beamed at the praise, and began reciting the same numbers in Yamani. Ulasu caught on quickly, and repeated them back.

The tenth bell sounded, and there was a mad scramble as the pages hurried to grab loose papers and books. Kellie looked down at her unfinished mathematics problems in dismay. She'd finished four of the six, and made a start on the fifth, but she'd run out of time. Would she be punished for failing to complete her work? Would she be dismissed from training?

"Do you have everything?" Rowan asked her, hefting a pile of books in his arms. Kellie looked over her work and nodded.

"I think so. But I didn't finish the last two mathematics problems."

"That's no surprise," Rowan replied, seemingly unconcerned as he led her back to the pages' wing. "Nobody ever finishes everything. In class tomorrow, tell Master Valorian that you didn't finish, not that you couldn't finish. You'll get punishment work for it, same as everybody else. I think it's to teach us not to complain. You finished all of your other work?"

"Yes." Kellie looked over her armload just to be sure. Her report of the poem was completed, and she'd finished the assigned readings for both Sir Myles and Master Oakbridge.

"Then you're already doing better than I did my first day," Rowan informed her. "I didn't get to any of the etiquette reading I was assigned, and Master Oakbridge was not pleased. Here you go, back to your rooms. See you at breakfast!"

Kellie stared after Rowan as he entered his own rooms, bewildered as to how a person could be so unrelentingly cheerful all of the day. She found her bed made and a small rug on the floor in front of it—Tessa must have brought that, she thought, and smiled. The rug wouldn't make much difference now, but by December she would certainly appreciate not stepping onto a cold floor first thing in the morning. She resolved to thank the maid in the morning, and went into the privy to clean her teeth before falling into bed, repeating the Kyprish numbers in her head until she fell asleep.

SO! I've gone with a bit of creative license here, most noticeably, Myles still being alive and teaching. I know it's likely that he would've died before reaching eighty, but I couldn't bear to kill him off, even several years in the past. I've justified it to myself by reasoning that he's a noble who lives a fairly sedentary life, with access to plentiful food and talented healers, and since he's a scholar, he doesn't see combat very often. Sentimental of me? Absolutely. But he's my favorite father figure in the Tortall series—Raoul being a close second—and I thought it would benefit Kellie to have a class that isn't taught by a priest.

I also had a hell of a time trying to figure out how to describe Ulasu's skin tone. Aly describes Nawat's coloring as "more like her da's than a raka's" so I figured their kids would be lighter-skinned than Sarai and Dove. I eventually decided that they'd have a dark olive complexion, making them darker than luarin white (as Kellie noted in her first impression of Ulasu) but significantly lighter than coppery brown as the raka are described. Hope this makes sense.

Please review, feedback makes me happy!