Yay, another update! I know it's been a while. Maybe having a new chapter will make up for it a little? *puppy dog eyes*

I only own my original characters; everything else belongs to our Queen, Tamora Pierce.

Descent Into Winter

Early November brought changes in morning classes. Shang fighting had been moved to Mondays and Saturdays, and the first hour for rest of the week was now devoted to tilting and sword work. Kellie despised tilting with every fiber of her being from the first day with the unwieldy lance, but her proficiency at swordplay made her feel a little better about her lack of skill with the long weapon.

"Raise your arm!" bellowed Redford from the sidelines.

Kellie growled a Yamani curse under her breath, struggling to do as she was told. She had found that the riding master's reticence concealed a gruff sort of kindness, and he was more than willing to give a page some assistance in riding matters if they were brave enough to ask, but he did not accept sloppy work from anybody. As she barreled toward the practice quintain, aiming as well as she could for the target circle, she prayed that she wouldn't be adding yet another bruise to her collection.

Her prayers were in vain, unfortunately. She did manage to hit the target shield, but not close enough to avoid getting walloped with the sandbag. Slumping in her saddle, she nudged Blaze back to the starting line.

Marius, who had gained a reputation among the pages as an excellent rider when he wasn't distracted by other horses, was the only first year so far to manage hitting the quintain properly, just as the older pages did. She resolved to ask him what his secret was the next time she had the chance.

"I think I'm more bruise than skin now," Ulasu moaned as she sank into the hot water of the baths later in the morning.

"If you can spare some time on Sundays to practice, you'll see improvement much more quickly," Astara informed her.

"Not possible," Kellie groaned. "I have too much mathematics work to make up, and I have to scrub pots in the kitchens for a bell after lunch." She had tripped over a crack in the flagstones yesterday and gone sprawling, the wind knocked out of her, and had been late for supper as a result.

"Any time you can spare for extra practice, take it," Erynne advised. "That's what I did. If it helps, I hated tilting at first too. I still don't like it."

"Yes, you'd rather spend time with your books," came an unfamiliar voice from the entrance, a teasing tone present in the words.

"Cordy!" Mae squealed out loud, launching herself from the pool so fast Kellie thought the feline girl would hit the wall. "It's been months!" She threw her arms around the newcomer.

Kellie strained her neck to get a good look as the unfamiliar girl—young woman, really, now that she could see her—stripped off her travel-stained gear and sank into the hot water with a blissful sigh. "Ahhh, that feels wonderful. I haven't had a proper bath since Port Legann."

Mae, slipping back into the pool, made the introductions. "Kellie, Ulasu, this is Squire Cordelaine of Mindelan. She was my sponsor my first year, and she now serves Sir Linden of Brightleigh. Cordy, these are our newest girls, Kelanna of Queenscove and Ulasu of Pirate's Swoop."

Cordelaine's brown eyes inspected Kellie. "Queenscove? So you're the godsdaughter Aunt Kel mentioned."

"I—Yes, I am," Kellie stammered. The Mindelan squire was tall and broad, not as much as Kel but still noticeably so, with a stubborn chin and dark blonde hair cut short in the traditional page style. "Have you seen Aunt Kel recently?"

Cordelaine nodded briskly. "Yes, Sir Linden and I traveled with First Company for most of September. She mentioned you so often I feel as though I know you."

Kellie murmured a quiet "Thank you, Cordelaine."

"Cordy," was the firm reply. "I only use Cordelaine for formal occasions." Despite her stern words, there was a grin on Cordy's face. She looked to Ulasu next. "You're... Ulazu?"

"It's Ulasu," corrected the other girl, setting her mouth. "Ulasu of Pirate's Swoop."

Cordy ducked her head in apology. "Ulasu. It's wonderful to meet you as well. Two girl pages in one year! Your grandmother must be so proud of you." She tilted her head. "You were born in the Copper Isles, weren't you?" At Ulasu's nod, Cordy continued, "I've heard there are more lady warriors there than in the Eastern Lands. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is," Ulasu replied. "Women make up a quarter of the regular army, and more than a third of the Queen's Guard. And even those who choose not to fight for a living often choose to study the fighting arts."

Kellie compared those numbers to Tortall's. She'd known that the Copper Isles had a higher percentage of women in their armed forces, but not by how much. Even though the army, navy, and King's Own had been open to women for close to a decade now, only about an eighth of those forces were made up of women fighters, and the Queen's Riders was still about two-thirds to three-quarters male as well. The royal ladies were the only all-female fighting force in the kingdom.

"Cordy, you know that Mareth of Aili is taking her Ordeal this year, don't you?" Mae asked her friend as the seven girls dried themselves.

Cordy's eyes lit up. "How wonderful! Another lady knight joining the ranks. That makes six!"

"Six?" repeated Clarine, counting on her fingers. "I thought there were only four lady knights at the moment—the Lioness, of course; Lady Knight Keladry, the Protector of the Small; Lady Lilienna of Mandash; and—"

"The Macayhill sisters," interjected Erynne. "Fianola and Lyssandra."

Clarine looked bemused for a moment, until her expression cleared. "I forgot about Lady Lyssandra," she admitted, embarrassed. "Don't tell her I said that, all right?"

Giggling madly, the seven girls dressed and hurried out of the bathhouse. Kellie nearly tripped over a cat that was sitting just outside the door. "Hello," she greeted it, sidestepping neatly.

The cat mewed at her and darted away. Kellie considered going after it, but a shout from the other girls ahead of her convinced her that a stray cat wasn't worth getting more punishment work.

A few of the boy pages, Rowan among them, seemed excited to see Cordy as well, approaching the squire's tables to speak with her.

It was while she was leaving Master Irial's class the last hour that Kellie stumbled upon the cat once again. She was certain it was the same one—its fur was matted and dirty, and it looked thin. While animals in the palace were not unusual, they typically didn't look as shabby as this one. As she stared at it, the cat approached and rubbed against her ankles, and Kellie bent to pick it up, rather surprised when it allowed her to do so.

She smoothed one hand over the cat's head in an attempt to reassure it. "What am I to do with you?" she wondered out loud. Keeping the cat was out of the question—pages weren't allowed pets—but she couldn't let it continue to fend for itself either, not in its current state. She checked under its tail, finding the cat to be a female.

"What are you doing out of class, Page Kelanna?" came the training master's voice.

Kellie turned to find the redheaded man's eyes fixed on her. "Master Irial let me go early," she explained, "since I finished all my work. He didn't have anything else for me to do."

"I see," Sir Merric replied, nodding. "And what are you doing with a cat? You aren't allowed pets as a page, you know that."

"I do know that," Kellie assured him, ducking her head. "This cat was following me around, and I was trying to figure out what to do with her when you came along." A thought struck her. "Perhaps I could take her to the Wildmage?"

"Do that immediately, then," Sir Merric told her. "And I expect you to be on time for supper."

Kellie bowed as best she could with her arms full of cat, and set off for the teachers' floor, where she knew the Wildmage lived with her family. Intent on soothing the stray, murmuring softly, she didn't see the foot stretched out across the corner of the hallway until it was too late to avoid it. Kellie went sprawling, the cat giving an annoyed yowl as it flew from her arms, which she'd instinctively flung out to try and absorb the impact from the fall the same way she did in Shang fighting.

"Yamani scut," came the sneering voice of Sydrian from somewhere above her. "If the training master knew you were out of class, and towing around this filthy creature—" He aimed a kick at the cat, which hissed at him threateningly; Kellie took advantage of his attention being elsewhere to spring to her feet. "—he'd toss you back into the street where you belong." Sydrian reached for her—to do what, Kellie wasn't sure, only that she didn't care to find out. She ducked out of his way.

"I should tell him," Sydrian remarked, eyes glittering with malice at the prospect. "Out of classes, with a pet. He'd be certain to throw you out."

Whatever he'd been about to say next, Kellie never found out. The cat had launched itself at his face, hissing loudly and slashing with her claws. Sydrian shouted in pain, and tore the cat away. "You'll pay for that, girl!" he yelled, and took off running down the corridor.

Kellie watched his retreating back, bemused. The bully had never run from one of his victims before, and he had all the advantages against her. When he turned a corner and was lost to her sight, she returned her attention to the cat, who was washing a paw as though nothing had happened. "Thank you," she told the creature hesitantly. "You didn't have to do that."

The cat mewed, and rubbed against her ankles again. Kellie bent to gather it into her arms, and resumed her trek to the Wildmage's apartment. The rest of her way went without incident, and she thumped on the door bearing a small brass plate labeled Salmalín, which was opened by a girl a little older than she was.

"Hello," the girl greeted, taking in Kellie's page uniform and the cat in her arms. "Are you here to see Ma? She's not in Corus at the moment, but she should be returning in a day or so. I'm Sarralyn, what's your name?"

"I—Kelanna of Queenscove," Kellie stammered, caught off guard at Sarralyn's friendliness. "And, I don't need your ma, I don't think—this cat's been following me since this morning, and I thought the Wildmage might take her in."

Sarralyn eyed the cat with undisguised interest, her blue-gray eyes steady. "I'd be happy to take her," she finally replied, reaching out. The cat, which had been content to lay in Kellie's arms, leaped up onto Sarralyn's shoulder. "I'll give her a look-over—she looks thin, and her fur's not very healthy either. She seems to like you," the older girl added. "Don't be surprised if she finds her way back to you."

Kellie thanked Sarralyn before leaving, hurrying to wash up for supper. Delivering the cat, not to mention her encounter with Sydrian, had taken nearly all her remaining class time.

When she entered the large dining hall, her attention was immediately caught by Rowan wildly waving a hand at her. "Is it true?" he hissed in a low voice, as soon as Sir Merric had given the nightly prayer. "Did you really scratch up Sydrian's face?"

"No!" Kellie answered, making sure to keep her voice low. She flicked her eyes in the older boy's direction, noting with horror the visible scratch marks on his cheek and forehead, and the noticeable swelling of his face in general. "A cat did, I was taking her to the Wildmage and Sydrian tripped me, and, and the cat attacked him and then he ran away!" Kellie stopped to take a breath.

"That cat's a good judge of people," Rowan commented, flashing a quick grin, before sobering once more. "But did you make his face puff up like that?"

"I didn't do that either!" Kellie hissed. "Is he saying I did?"

Rowan shrugged. "I try not to listen to any of the manure that spews from his mouth," he assured her. "It wouldn't surprise me if he was, though."

A thought struck Kellie. "The cat," she breathed. "I'd wager it was the cat that made his face swell up!"

"How would a cat manage something like that?" Pathom inquired, sounding skeptical. "The scratches, all right, cats have sharp claws, but a cat couldn't work a spell!"

"Not a spell," Kellie replied slowly, the pieces falling into place. "It's—well, it's a thing healers see. Some people can't be around cats, or their faces get all puffy like that. Sometimes it makes their eyes all watery, too. Other things can cause the effect—hay, or certain flowers. If Sydrian is like that with cats, then… that explains why he ran away, too!"

"He ran away?" chorused both boys, their faces identically incredulous.

Kellie nodded, understanding now. "It didn't make sense to me earlier, but I didn't get a single bruise from him this time. All he did was trip me, and then the cat took over." She was unable to stop the satisfied smile that was slowly spreading across her face. "It seems he was the one who came out the worse in this encounter."

xxxxx

Sydrian's face soon became less swollen, but the scratches, to Kellie's private satisfaction, lasted until nearly December. He evidently hadn't dared take them to a healer, and they faded slowly. She did her best to avoid him, knowing that it was only the cat's presence that had allowed her to escape unscathed. She saw the creature now and again, giving it a scratch when she could, but not wanting to get too attached to it. The feline was looking much healthier these days.

On a Sunday morning in late November, Kellie opened her shutters to find that the ground had been dusted with snow overnight. The sparkling cold had done nothing to deter the courtyard crow, whose black feathers contrasted beautifully with the white. "Good morning, Karasu-san," she greeted the bird, using the Yamani word for "crow," as she did most mornings. The creature squawked and flapped around to the other side of the tree, out of her sight. Kellie smiled and closed the shutters partway before beginning her morning glaive work and arm exercises.

For the first time since September, she had no punishment work. Kellie reveled in the rare moment of free time, before sighing and opening her history book. Sir Myles had had to separate an argument between Mae and Jameson yesterday, over the causes of the Scanran War thirteen years ago. A number of the other pages had taken sides, and the elderly instructor had assigned every one of them to read the relevant chapters in the text before Monday's class.

Despite the long reading, Sir Myles was still Kellie's favorite instructor, and she hated to disappoint him. So for the next two hours, she studied the thick tome, scratching out notes now and then.

The rest of her assigned work was nearly finished when the noon bell rang. Kellie leaned back in her chair, stretching, and set her current assignment, a report on a piece written by Lady Knight Sabine of Macayhill two centuries ago, to the side, and hurried to the dining room for lunch.

After the meal, Kellie returned to her rooms, finished the report, and stared at her pile of completed work with a satisfied smile. I have the rest of the afternoon to myself, she thought; what will I do with all this free time? In the end, she wrote a short letter to her family, before setting off for the stables to saddle Blaze and work on her tilting.

xxxxx

It was with significantly more bruises and soreness that Kellie made for the dining hall for the evening tactics and strategy lecture, but she knew she'd used the day well. She was almost sorry to set aside her required work, but she found these lectures fascinating. Only fourth year pages were required to attend, but any other page who wished to listen was welcome.

Kellie spotted the brown-haired woman at the front of the room and was unable to suppress a grin. Veralidaine Salmalín, called the Wildmage for her connection to mortal creatures and immortals alike, had given more than one of the Sunday lectures and Kellie knew she was a lively speaker. She was still disappointed she hadn't gotten to speak with the woman while delivering the cat. The other guest was a complete surprise.

"Mother?" Erynne gasped, racing in a most undignified way toward the short, plump woman setting up a large canvas panel. The woman turned, and Kellie could see the resemblance. Although she was in her mid-thirties, with straight brown hair that lacked any sun-kissed streaks, she shared Erynne's brown eyes and freckles. So, Kellie thought, this was Lady Maura, the Countess of Dunlath. The lady's eyes lit up at the sight of the girl hurrying toward her, and a smile bloomed across her face.

"Hello, Erynne dear," the countess greeted her daughter warmly. "How have you been?" She took a step back to look Erynne up and down. "You've grown again. You'll need a new uniform soon."

Erynne blushed, managing to stammer out, "Mother, what are you doing here in Corus?"

Lady Maura swept her cool, observant gaze around the room, lingering on Kellie for a moment. "King Jonathan has called a meeting of the Council of Nobles, and so I was required to travel to the capital for the winter earlier than I planned," she explained. "Daine asked me if I wouldn't mind assisting her with tonight's lecture."

"Did Father come with you?" Erynne asked eagerly, glancing wildly around. "And Douglass, and Clarissa?"

"Your father is here in Corus as well, but he won't be joining me tonight," Lady Maura replied. "Your brother and sister are staying behind at Dunlath for the winter—much as I will miss them, I thought it would be too much for them to spend so long away from home."

Erynne's face fell.

Perhaps in an attempt to distract her disappointed child, Lady Maura touched Erynne's hand gently. "Perhaps you could introduce me to your friend here while we wait for everyone to arrive?"

Kellie started when she realized the lady's eyes were on her. Erynne followed her mother's gaze. "Oh! Mother, this is Kelanna of Queenscove, a first-year page. Kellie, this is my mother, Countess Maura of Dunlath."

Giving the proper bow due a countess, Kellie murmured, "It is an honor to meet you, my lady."

"Likewise," the lady responded briskly. "And please, call me Maura." A shout from the front of the room drew her attention away from Kellie. "Pardon me, please, it seems we're about to begin."

She bustled away, leaving Kellie to take a seat next to Erynne. In a soft murmur, so as not to be overheard, she leaned over and asked, "Erynne, who is your father?" She knew that Lady Maura was Countess of Dunlath in her own right, being the sole heir when her older sister had been executed for treason in the days leading up to the Immortals War, but not who her husband was.

Without taking her eyes from the speakers, Erynne replied, in an equally soft tone, "My father was born Wallis of Veldine. Mother was assigned a knight-guardian by the Crown—Douglass of Veldine—since she hadn't reached her majority yet when she inherited. He's Father's uncle, and mostly retired now." Erynne flashed a quick grin. "Uncle and I get on well; he's good friends with the Lioness, and he encouraged me to try for my shield."

Kellie nodded in acknowledgement and returned her attention to the Wildmage and Lady Maura, who were detailing how the two of them, along with several ogres, Tkaa the basilisk, and a number of mortal creatures including wolves, squirrels, eagles, and horses, had freed Dunlath Valley from the spell that Carthaki mages had placed over it. There was a large map of the valley that they referred to constantly, and Lady Maura frequently used her Gift to illustrate the locations described. By the time the eighth bell rang, dismissing them, Kellie was marveling at the lady's strategic mind. Maura of Dunlath would have made a fine general.

Erynne hung back amid the mass of departing pages, presumably to speak with her mother a bit more. Kellie wanted to learn more about the woman as well—Lady Maura was a very interesting person, with numerous stories to share beyond what she had spoken about—but hanging back and waiting while everyone else dispersed proved awkward, so she followed after the others a few minutes later.

xxxxx

The beginning of December marked a change in classwork, one class in particular. Master Oakbridge was working the pages harder than ever in etiquette, in preparation for Midwinter festivities, even though he was no longer Master of Ceremonies and would have no role in the banquets.

"First years wait at tables just like any other page," Astara informed Kellie and Ulasu a week before the holiday began. "You've been practicing, waiting on Sir Merric and his guests, so you shouldn't have too much trouble waiting on other nobles. But get used to sour looks, and pointed questions about your virtue. Lady warriors are still fairly new, and there are nobles who will disapprove. Ignore them as best you can."

Kellie had already selected her Midwinter gifts for her friends, all except Tessa. It was traditional to gift servants coin for Midwinter, but Tessa had been so wonderful to her…

She brought it up only a week before Midwinter. "Tessa," she began, tentatively shifting from foot to foot, "may I speak with you for a few minutes?"

The blonde woman glanced up from where she was laying the fire. "I suppose so, miss," she replied, a hint of trepidation evident in her voice.

"It's nothing bad, I promise," Kellie hastened to reassure the older girl. "It's just, I like having you, and you seem happy enough working for me, so I thought, perhaps… you might like it if I hired you on as my maid. Permanently, I mean."

Tessa stood, regarding Kellie. "I would like that very much, miss," she finally answered. "You're certain you wish to hire me?"

"I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't," Kellie answered resolutely. "If you're sure then, I'll talk to the chamberlain and have you assigned to me for the next three years, until I become a squire. And I can arrange something for you beyond that, if you'd like…" She trailed off; Tessa was shaking her head.

"That's very kind of you to offer, miss, but…" Tessa was blushing faintly. "My… my sweetheart wants to marry me, so I would have to leave the pages' wing eventually."

"Your sweetheart?" Kellie asked, unable to resist smiling at Tessa's embarrassment. "You've never mentioned a sweetheart before; is it anybody I know?"

"I don't think so," Tessa answered. "He's with the Queen's Riders. I haven't seen him since summer—the Thirteenth has been up near the City of the Gods for months now."

Ah. Kellie understood now why Tessa hadn't mentioned her sweetheart before—he'd been away for some time now. No doubt she missed him.

Speaking to the chamberlain was simple enough. All Kellie needed to do was state that she wanted to hire one of the Palace servants as her own maid, and show that she could afford it. Which she could, easily—Queenscove was a wealthy fief, and Kellie's monthly allowance from her family was substantial, so it was no trouble to show the chamberlain the advance two months' worth of wages for a body servant. And, she thought, counting out her remaining coins, she would have enough left over for the month to give Tessa the customary silver noble for Midwinter, and perhaps some sweets as well.

The first night of the holiday, Kellie dressed in her formal uniform and did her best to smooth the creases out of it. The red and gold cloth was finer than anything she had ever worn before, but… she frowned at her reflection. The colors didn't suit her. Not at all.

Ulasu, cheerful smile firmly in place, popped into Kellie's open door. "Hurry, we don't want to be late!"

Kellie couldn't help smiling; Ulasu's enthusiasm was infectious. Her friend appeared to have completely forgotten the incident with the king earlier in the year. She couldn't help noticing that the bright scarlet and gold cloth looked splendid on Ulasu, whose red-brown hair was neatly combed, and her hazel eyes looked greener than ever.

Reporting to the Master of Ceremonies, Master Veritas Kosten, was an ordeal in itself. Master Kosten was as stuffy as Master Oakbridge, making Kellie wonder if stuffiness was a requirement for the post. He ordered her to take a finger bowl to the table nearest the door, then barked at a serving lad who was holding a tureen of soup to take care with it. The boy, who was hardly any larger than the tureen, turned white at the order and hurried to set it down.

Kellie hastily offered the bowl to the nobles seated at the table she'd been assigned. One, an older man dressed in haMinch colors, sniffed disdainfully at her but made no remark. The rest thanked her politely, though she could see hostility in a few eyes.

The last noble, a lady resplendent in ruby-colored velvet, smiled at Kellie. "You're doing a wonderful job. Keep at it." Kellie bowed in acknowledgement and returned to the kitchen for the next course.

"Hsst!" came a quick hiss from the line of pages who were working inside the kitchen. Kellie found Rowan beckoning to her with his eyes, and hurried over to him, careful of the tray she was holding. Rowan indicated a man on the opposite side of the banquet hall from where Kellie had been assigned. "See him? That's the lord of Torhelm, Sydrian's grandfather. You see why we call him Rat-face?"

Kellie couldn't deny that the man's pointed nose and beady eyes lent him a distinct rodentlike appearance, but she didn't have time to waste goggling at conservative lords. Giving Rowan a quick grin at the joke, she hurried back to her assigned table.

Despite her fears of accidentally spilling something all over one of the guests, the meal went smoothly for Kellie. She soon lost track of everything except the next course, and her table. In what felt like only a bell or so, the pages were finished serving for the evening, and Master Kosten was dismissing them.

It was only then that Kellie registered just how tired her legs were from the evening's exertions. The knowledge that she would have to do it again the next several nights did nothing to assuage the ache.

Rowan caught her arm as the pages were leaving. "Say, Kellie, could I have a word?"

"As long as it's quick," Kellie replied. She needed to use the privy.

Rowan nodded in understanding. "Yes, of course. I only wanted to ask if you'd accompany me to the Chapel of the Ordeal tomorrow night—my brother is taking his Ordeal, and… I don't want to be alone. Besides that, I'd like you to meet my family."

Kellie had flinched at the mention of the Ordeal. She could understand Rowan wanting a friend there with him. "All right, I'll go with you. As long as it's not against the rules."

"It's not," Rowan assured her. "Not many pages go—there's an old superstition about pages who go to the Chamber never surviving to become knights—but that's nonsense. It's perfectly within the rules."

"Then yes, I'll go with you," Kellie replied.

Rowan let out a sigh of relief, and to Kellie's surprise, pulled her into a hug. "Thank you," he murmured into her hair. "The Ordeal—it terrifies me, but Mother and Father insisted I be there for Carlin. Tomorrow after the banquet, then?" he confirmed, releasing her.

"Of course," Kellie answered.

xxxxx

The second evening's service went as smoothly as the first, despite the fact that Kellie's legs and feet were aching before the banquet even started. The lady in red from the night before gave her a smile as she waited on the nobles' table. Kellie wondered who the lady was.

It wasn't until after the nobles had begun clearing out of the banquet hall that Master Kosten dismissed the pages. Kellie wolfed down her meal, too hungry to waste time in conversation, a sentiment shared by her fellows, if the unusual quiet of the pages' dining hall was any indication. Rowan gave her a slight nod as she returned her tray.

She met him in the hall outside. "Are you sure you're all right with this?" he asked her in a low voice. "I wouldn't blame you if you decided to back out."

Kellie shook her head. "I said I would do it, and I intend to keep my word."

"Do what, exactly?"

Rowan started at the same moment Kellie did, neither of them having noticed Ulasu's presence. Rowan managed to answer after taking a bit to get his breath back. "My brother takes his Ordeal tonight, and I wanted one of my friends with me while I wait for him."

Ulasu gave him a long, searching look, but nodded. "That's all right, then."

Kellie frowned at her friend. "Why? What did you think we were talking about?"

"I don't know." Ulasu shrugged. "But you were being so secretive about it—" Here she gave Rowan a severe glance. "—that I thought it was something… shall we say, less than legal."

Rowan turned bright red. "It's—it's nothing like that."

"Yes, yes, I know." Ulasu headed off down the hall toward the pages' wing, waving to them as she went.

Kellie followed Rowan down the twisting passageways of the palace, toward the place she knew was there but had never visited. He finally stopped outside an elaborate entryway, with a handful of people milling around inside, and entered after a moment's hesitation.

Inside, there were several more people than Kellie had originally thought, with many of them seated on pews, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Rowan led Kellie over to a pair of nobles with a little girl. The man looked up as Rowan approached. "Ah, Rowan, you made it after all! We weren't sure you would be able to, what with serving at the feast all evening." He spotted Kellie, lurking in Rowan's shadow, suddenly feeling shy. "And who is this?"

"Mother, Father…" Rowan began, turning to the side so the nobles had a clear view of Kellie. She tried not to fidget, and cast her eyes toward the floor when she recognized the lady as the red-clad noble who had given her kind encouragement the last two nights. "This is girl I sponsored this year, Kelanna of Queenscove." He turned back around. "Kellie, these are my parents, Merovec and Adalia of Nond."

Lady Adalia, dressed in a gown less formal than the one she'd worn to the banquet, though still red, inclined her head. "You are the Queenscove heir? Now I know why you looked so familiar to me."

Rowan looked startled. "Kellie, you've met my mother?"

"Your young friend has waited on us for the last two evenings," Lady Adalia replied. She patted the head of the little girl curled up in her lap, sound asleep. "This is our youngest child, Cecily."

The small child looked to be seven or eight, Kellie thought, with a head full of brown curls. She should really be in bed, not sleeping in her mother's lap in a hard pew. The again, Kellie thought with a sudden flare of amusement, she and Rowan should really be in bed too, after a day of classes, an evening of serving at table, and more of the same tomorrow.

Seated next to Adalia, Kellie was able to ask the lady something she'd been wondering about. "My lady," she murmured softly, "what did you mean earlier, when you said I looked familiar to you?"

Adalia, smoothing out Cecily's unruly curls, replied, "Rowan has written of you, of course. My sister has mentioned you as well, though I don't see her very often. Perhaps once every year. She's very busy traveling the realm as a knight."

"Your… sister?" A trickle of memory suddenly awakened: Kel, some years earlier, considering the possibility of taking her nephew as a squire. When Neal had protested that such a thing would likely earn her the increased ire of her sister, Kel had pointed out that "Adie and I have reached an agreement." Kellie hadn't heard the rest of the argument, having been sent to her rooms to take a bath. Now, doing some quick arithmetic, she decided that Kel very likely had been referring to Carlin.

Adalia nodded. "Yes, Keladry of Mindelan," she answered, confirming Kellie's suspicion. "Your godsmother, yes? And you were named for her as well, I believe."

Kellie ducked her head in a nod, glad the torchlight's flickering hid any color on her cheeks. Rowan cut in then, cheerfully informing his mother of his achievements in classes. Kellie took the opportunity to cast her gaze around the Chapel of Ordeal.

Light conversation in hushed tones was taking place throughout the room. Rowan traded news with his parents, telling them about his studies and combat training. Kellie tried to file away the useful information in her mind, knowing that she would be doing the same when she was an older page.

At one point, Merovec—Kellie wasn't sure if he was a knight, but guessed not since Rowan would likely have introduced his father as Sir Merovec if he was—asked Kellie, "Do you see your godsmother often?"

Kellie shook her head. "I haven't seen Aunt Kel since the spring, the day I told Papa and Mama I wanted to try for my shield. She's busy, I think—she was promoted to Knight Commander of the King's Own upon Lord Raoul's retirement this summer."

"Ah, yes, I recall hearing something to that effect," Merovec replied, nodding, and falling into silence once more.

Rowan grinned. "Kellie is far better at academic classes than I was my first year. She's got a good head for swordplay too."

"Not all my academics," Kellie added, glaring at her friend. He knew how to keep his mouth shut, and he knew that she was embarrassed by excessive praise; why was he lauding her accomplishments to his parents? "I'm terrible at mathematics."

"You're better at it than you think you are," Rowan refuted. "And you've improved tremendously with Ulasu's assistance."

Rowan looked rather put out when his father, amusement plain on his face, reached over to ruffle his hair. Kellie couldn't help the giggle that escaped her—Rowan shot her an exaggerated long-suffering look in response.

The conversation waned a bit after that. Rowan and Kellie both dozed for a little while, only waking when Cecily, squirming in her sleep, kicked Rowan in the knee. He startled awake, disturbing Kellie, who had been having a vague dream about riding Blaze across the ocean.

"Rowan," she murmured, yawning, "you never told me why you wanted to sponsor me…"

Scrubbing one hand over his face, Rowan squinted at her. "I didn't? I thought I had. Ladies can be warriors, the same as men can. My aunt is proof enough of that, not to mention the Lioness, the Queen, the royal ladies, all the girls who join the Queen's Riders…" He sat up, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Besides, my sponsor was a girl."

"Really?" Kellie was glad she'd asked—that wasn't even close to what she'd thought he would say. "Who was she?"

"My cousin," Rowan answered. "Cordy, Cordelaine of Mindelan. I thought you two had met already…" He trailed off as a yawn overtook him.

"We have," Kellie mused. "But she never mentioned you were cousins. Or that she was your sponsor."

"It's nearly dawn," Adalia murmured tersely, interrupting their conversation. Her knuckles were white as she clutched the crimson fabric of her dress.

Indeed, Kellie could see the sky beginning to lighten through the small windows in the chapel niches. She yawned once more, stretched, and sat up straight, her body feeling like she'd been squeezed through the wringers the laundry servants used for washing.

Pretending not to notice that Rowan was as white-knuckled as his mother, Kellie squeezed his shoulder and fixed her attention on the Chamber door.

When Carlin emerged from the Chamber, pale and sweaty and swaying on his feet but otherwise unharmed, Rowan let out an enormous sigh of relief before jumping to his feet and beginning to applaud and cheer along with the rest of the gathered crowd. Carlin wasn't in view for long—a few men who wore the badges of knights hustled him away.

Kellie didn't know how she made it to her rooms to wash and dress before making herself some wake-up tea and stumbling down to the mess hall for breakfast.

Remember when I could edit an entire chapter in a few hours on my day off? Yeah, those were the days. I'm really proud of this chapter, though, even though it took so long to finish. It's been over a year since I even looked at the drafts for the next seven chapters. Maybe NaNoWriMo isn't such a good idea for me, not if I can leave so much unedited content just sitting for so long.

At any rate, thank you all so much for your continued patience, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Please review!