Maiden by Decree
Chapter Eight
 By Maggie Finson
 
Life in the Palace

or, How Am I supposed to Remember all this stuff?!!

 

“Sheesh!” Deirdre protested. “I had to learn needlepoint, knitting, and fortunately I already knew how to sew. Then there was meeting a bunch of fluttery little ladies who are supposed to be the cream of the nation and remember all their names, what they like, dislike, and just smiling when they insist on sharing all their concerns. But this is just going beyond the call of whatever it is! Dancing lessons?”

“Come now, dear.” Jessica soothed. “It won’t be so bad. You might even decide it can be fun.”

“Fun!” Giving her loose hair a little flip, Deirdre let out a long suffering sigh.

“Being able to perform the traditional and newer steps might just be relaxing for you, dear.” Garret’s sister pressed. “Plus it’s a wonderful way to meet new people.”

“Sure, new horny males who only want to ogle me from close up, and have a chance to grope under the guise of being politely civilized.” The new girl retorted. “I am so NOT ready to do something like that!”

“Well get ready, my soon to be sister.” Jessica smoothed her own honey blonde hair with a sigh. “Dancing is not just an accepted social interaction, knowing how to do so properly is de-riguer for ladies of our standing. So quit bitching and just do it. The groping and leers could be considered a compliment, you know.”

“Oh, suuuure.” Deirdre griped then brightened as she asked. “Could I maybe give them a little roundhouse slap if they put their hands places I don’t think should be touched? Or if they squeeze things that decent men don’t do to a lady who is promised to someone else?”

“Absolutely not.” Jessica responded with a touch of a grin playing around the corners of her mouth. “Though wishing to is something that isn’t all that strange an impulse among most ladies on social occasions. But they don’t do it unless the ‘gentleman’ is very obnoxious and persistent. A lady slapping a man can cause a fight at the very least, and in the worst case, a deadly feud between two families. So, please don’t hit, kick, or bite anyone, dear. Garret has enough to deal with right now without another feud to handle.”

“No fair!” Deirdre practiced her girlish pout. “Bringing up Garret and making me feel as if I could cause more problems for him.”

“So learn the dance steps, smile when you do it, and keep smiling when you debut at the Grand Ball.” Jessica admonished. “And smile prettily if some man happens to stroke or grope something you consider private. Of course you are allowed to move the man’s hand away from the part of your anatomy he’s trying to maul. But gently.”

“With a smile.” Deirdre grimaced. “This lady stuff is harder than it looks.”

“Of course it is, dear.” Jessica chuckled and gave the other a hug.

“Especially because I’m still a bit outraged and boggled by what my body is doing. Several months ago I didn’t even have the body parts I’m worrying about here. This isn’t easy for me.”

“You’re developing rather well at that.” Jessica admitted while giving the other’s growing bosom, hips, and bottom careful looking over with slow nod. “I can see where that would be something you’d really rather not deal with having men paw at just now.”

“Oh, what gives you that idea?” The dark haired beauty caustically returned. “Could it be that I was a fairly normal boy a while ago? You think? Maybe?”

“Granted.” Jessica sighed as she agreed with all that. “But you can do nothing about that now, can you? The best thing to do is get used to it at least even if you can’t like it just yet. But please, please, let’s not have a repeat of that altercation with Bridgette if some man happens to cop a feel on you at the Ball. Putting your pretty knee into the crotch or handing an eye to some idiot who is likely a bit worse for drink, isn’t acceptable behavior at all. Though I do admit that I and other life-long ladies will too, the temptation is always there.”

“Smile prettily, move the offending hand, and refuse to dance with the bore again.” Jessica shrugged. “We do have that option, after all.”

“You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.” Deirdre drily answered.

“Sarcasm still doesn’t become you dear.”

“Why not?” Deirdre gave Jessica an innocent look.

“Just do your best to learn the steps, all right?” Jessica asked sweetly. “And don’t embarrass yourself and Garret at the ball. Please?”

“All right, all right.” Deirdre let out a long suffering sigh. “I’ll do it already!”

“That’s the attitude I wanted to see!”

“I said it didn’t I?” Deirdre plaintively answered.

* * * *

“Very good, M’lady.” Vertigan, the dance instructor complimented her as Deirdre finally managed the complex steps of a pavane without getting herself tangled up in some manner or other.

Other ladies were present as well, to either learn some new steps or brush up on their own dancing skills, and many of those maintained a nervously cautious distance from the still somewhat uncouth black haired beauty Sir Garret had brought among them. Deirdre didn’t really mind that so much for herself. Most of the ‘ladies’ avoiding her weren’t really people she would choose to spend a great deal of time with given the choice. They were just too fluttery and studiedly delicate for the new girl’s liking.

A few others, however weren’t at all intimidated by being close to the firebrand who had confronted, then beaten the crap out of Bridgette. One of those, another redhead leaned close when she noticed Deirdre’s expression as the girl eyed the standoffish members of the group. “Don’t worry about them, dear. The lot of them, I think, may have enough real brains to fill a teacup. Providing the tea and water were already in the cup.”

That drew a little chuckle from Deirdre who searched her memory for the other’s name and surprisingly found it. “Well, at least I know not to trust any of them when my back is turned now, Irena.”

“A lesson well learned early.” The redhead agreed with a grin that turned a bit wicked. “Besides, ‘The Lady Bridgette of Rork badly needed the kind of ‘come uppance’ you provided in such an entertaining manner. Ashley, Isaboe, and I were cheering you on every scratch, bite, and hair pull of the way.”

“Thank you.” Deirdre grinned weakly. “I got a real reaming for ‘rolling around on the floor with someone caterwauling like a common tavern wench fighting over a man’ once that was over with. Even if I got the impression that Garret and Jessica were secretly amused over the whole thing.”

“Oh, trust me, it was entertaining to those of us with reason to dislike Brigdette, and there are more than a few who are included in that group.” Irena answered with another grin that turned serious for a moment. “But I’d watch my back around that one from now on. She isn’t the forgiving type.”

“Neither am I, evidently.” Deirdre sighed.

“No, I can see that.” Irena chuckled. “But you tend to be a bit more direct than most ladies are comfortable with being most of the time. Personally, I find that quality rather refreshing around here. You’re much like the Queen in that, by the way. So don’t think I’m disparaging that directness, or making fun of it, though I might tease you a bit about it off and on.”

“Teasing I understand and can tease right back when it’s in fun.” Deirdre shrugged. “Just ask my sister about that. I admit to having been a gamin before Garret singled me out in that arena, and am still one at heart even with all the polishing everyone is trying to do on me just now.”

“Just try not to lose that spark of fire in your spirit, Deirdre.” Irena answered. “You really liven this place up, and I’m not talking about that ‘tavern brawl’ of yours in the Atrium. Well, maybe a bit, but you know what I mean, I hope.”

“Oh, I get the idea.” Deirdre let out a sigh. “Never a dull moment around me and all that.”

* * * *

“Well, it’s good to see you making friends among the other ladies.” Garret told her with approval in his voice. “Real friends, I mean.”

“Uh huh.” Deirdre grimaced. “Before all this started with you and me, if I had been in such close contact with several of these new friends I would have been actively working to become more than simply friends.”

“Do you still feel that way?” He questioned quietly.

“What? Between the weirdness of what happened to me with you, is happening, and the physicians are saying is just ‘normal’ problems a girl has when puberty hits?” She retorted. “Female puberty! Me! This is sooo embarrassing at times.”

“You do seem to be a — rapid bloomer.” Garret agreed with an appreciative glance at his lady’s burgeoning figure.

“I was looking forward to developing the other way!” Deirdre fumed. “Now instead of growing up and getting a nice set of muscles, I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking up at most people just to carry on a conversation. And these are definitely NOT muscles!”

Illustrating her point by lifting her growing breasts with both hands, she glowered at the man as he pursed his lips and nodded.

“No, they certainly aren’t that, dear. Plus, there is nothing wrong with a woman being — umm — petite.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Deirdre growled. “I think I’ll go take a bath if you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh by all means.” Garret genially waved her off. “Jessica says that it sometimes helps with her tempers if she throws a few things against the wall…”

“I’ll try that.” Having said that the dark haired little dynamo flounced out of the room and slammed the door to her bedchambers.
Shortly after that came several crashes and feminine screams of hormone induced rage. Garret winced, shrugged, and decided it wasn’t a good time to remind her of the dinner they had been invited to that evening. Deciding that, he left a written message with one of the maids, and exercised the better part of valor by leaving his intended’s rooms.

* * * *

Roric of Lindsay read the dispatch from Jhalmar with a frown. “So, my cousin has found himself a lady at last. A complication I’ll have to see to, I believe.”

After writing two separate notes and placing them in envelopes, he dripped wax on the pair, affixed his seal, and passed them to the waiting messenger. “Take these back to Jhalmar once you’ve eaten and rested a while. One to the Lady Bridgette, and the other to the usual place.”

“Of course, M’lord.” The messenger bowed then carefully backed out of the man’s presence.

* * * *

“I trust you feel better now?” Garret questioned while escorting Deirdre, resplendent in a gold colored gown to the dinner.

“Marginally.” She answered with a little grimace.

“I’ll take what I can get, I suppose.” The man gave a theatrical sigh then grinned.

“Good.” Deirdre tartly replied. “Because that’s all you get this evening. For a while at least.”

“Just promise me you won’t slam some poor lady who insults you by accident into the table, tonight.”

“You take all the fun out of things, dear.” She chuckled.

“At least you’re laughing again.” He pointed out.

“Don’t press your luck, sirrah.” She grumbled.

“As I said, I’ll take what I can get.”

“And you’d better like it, too.” She returned with a little smirk.

“Oh?”

“This is all your fault, you know.” She accused while gesturing at her cleavage, rounded hips and bottom, then glowered at him. “If you hadn’t chosen me at that tournament…”

“You’d likely still be learning the dressmaker’s trade.” He countered. “While ‘growing’ into it, so to speak.”

“You think so?” She questioned then shook her head. “No. It’s that blasted prophecy doing this to me. Don’t even try and deny it!”

“How can I do that when I’m not even sure about it myself?” Garret calmly countered.

“So you say, boyo.” She answered with a toss of her head that was quite feminine.

“Could we maybe discuss this later, my love?” He questioned as they neared the doors to the chambers they’d been invited to for the evening meal. “We’re nearly there now.”

“Oh, we can, I suppose.” She shrugged, then glared at him. “And will. In great detail.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it, dear.” Letting out a long sigh of resignation, Garret pleaded. “Just be polite, smile at the nice people, and no temper until we leave the dinner, please?”

“If you insist.” She agreed then grinned impishly. “But I thought you liked me being a little — what was the term you used? Ahh, firebrand, wasn’t it?”

“Me and my big mouth.” He muttered. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Well, I did.” Her smug answer had him wondering just what life with this little tornado in mostly girl form would be like. It would be interesting at the least, he decided.

“Oh interestingly enough, you and I do have a similar taste in enemies.” He wisely changed the subject.

“Really?” She questioned. “How did you reach that conclusion?”

“The Lady Bridgette, who you made a life-long enemy the other day, by the way, happens to be affianced to my cousin Roric of Lindsay.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She responded almost wearily.

* * * *

Lord Andreis and his following were influential members of a group of nobles who marginally supported Garret’s claim to the seat of Chalmnessa, but wished to personally meet the young lady he was betrothed to.

“So this is the young lady we’ve been hearing so much about recently!” Andries boomed as Deirdre was presented to him and his wife, Laren. “Well there is no doubt that you did pick a pretty one here, Garret!”

Deirdre blushed, as much at being taken for a beautiful girl as at the compliment, curtsied, and quietly answered. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“You are quite lovely, my dear.” Laren smiled at Deirdre and gestured for the couple to enter. “Though a few things I’ve heard about you are more than a bit curious. But we can discuss that later, can’t we? Please come in and let Andreis and I introduce you to the others before dinner is served.”

“That would be lovely, Lady Laren.” Deirdre replied with another curtsey while worrying about the ‘few things’ their hostess obviously intended to probe her about later on.

“Come along then, you two.” Laren had taken over without a demur from Andreis and pulled the pair along in her wake simply by virtue of her personal magnetism.

“I’ll never keep all these people straight.” Deirdre whispered to Garret once the chain of introductions had been made.

“Don’t worry yourself about that, dear.” He whispered back with an encouraging smile. “They really don’t expect you to do that at a first gathering.”

“Oh, that makes me fell sooo much better.” She whispered back.

“In time, you’ll know and remember everyone important here at court.” He promised.

“That’s what worries me.” She smiled while saying that from the corner of her mouth. “Meeting all those important people is not going to be easy for me, you know.”

“You’ll do fine.” He assured her while giving her arm a small squeeze. “People just naturally like you, dearest.”

“You might remind Bridgette and her cronies about that one when you get a chance.”

“At least you choose your enemies well.”

Garret’s shrug nearly had Deirdre snapping at him again, but she held that back with effort. “As you say, my love.”

“Now, come. Let’s enjoy the meal. Laren is famous for her dinners, and justly so.”

“Oh, all right.” Deirdre allowed herself to be led into the dining room and seated by Garret, who gingerly took a place beside her.

“Just smile, be polite, and be yourself, darling.”

“That’s what gets me into trouble, you know.”

“To know you is to love you, dearest.” He answered with a broad smile.

“We’ve been through this already.” She answered with a little sigh. “But I’ll take your word for that, all right?”

“Just as well.” Garret nodded. “Don’t let yourself worry about that, just be your usual ebullient self this evening.”

“I promised not to get into any fights, you know.”

“Yes you did.” Garret nodded judiciously.

“You’re teasing me now.” She accused.

“Yes.” He responded.

“I’ll get you for that later.”

“Yet another thing to look forward to, dearest.” The man responded with a beatific grin.

“Count on it, darling.” She purred.

“Oh I do, my love.”

“I wish you’d quit giving me those sappy looks when I say things like that!” She grumped.

“I love you, Deirdre.” Garret replied easily. “What do you expect out of me?”

“A bit less of the love thing for starters.” She shot back then grinned. “But I suppose that’s way too much to ask here.”

“That it is, my love.” The man nodded with a serious expression on his face. “You are everything I ever dreamed of in a woman.”

“I’m not…”

“Don’t say it again, love.” He cautioned. “You are more of a woman than some who were born to it. Stop fighting that and accept the truth.”

“This is part of the thing we were going to discuss later, isn’t it?” She questioned sweetly.

“Yes it is, dear.” Garret resorted to the common response used by men with their women since before history started.

“You better remember that, too.” She answered in the unofficially standard response to that.

* * * *

The dinner was sumptuous, and served in a number of courses that began with a fragrant, delicious soup containing bits of asparagus in a creamy base. The gentleman seated on her other side, whose name she couldn’t recall to save her life, chatted amiably about inconsequentialities throughout the meal. Which,much to her surprise, she found pleasant.

Salads, meats, fowls, and fish in a bewildering array of sauces and shapes followed and Deirdre found herself too well filled to finish much of anything, though at times she wished she could eat like she once had. She politely tried each offering and found herself believing that the Lady Laren was justly famous for her dinner parties.

Once the remains of desert had been removed the men helped their ladies from their seats then headed off to share tobacco and brandy. Lady Laren led the women and Deirdre into another room that was furnished comfortably and in unmistakably feminine ways.

“Please take seats and make yourselves comfortable.” The lady invited then grinned. “Our men are doing the smoke and brandy thing, which we won’t, but we have a very nice wine selection that my servants would be very happy to let all of you sample.”

Deridre carefully seated herself on a small couch, mindful of smoothing her skirts and not letting the petticoats underneath it push out when she sat down. A servant approached her and she told him. “Just get me the strongest stuff your lady will allow on occasions like this. And keep it coming, please.”

“Of course, M’lady.” The maid answered with a doubtful expression. “We have some distilled wine that some say is excellent.”

“That will work wonderfully.” Deirdre nodded. “Thank you.”

When the deceptively mild appearing pink fluid was brought to her, Deirdre tipped the goblet back and took a discrete gulp. And nearly choked as the beverage crawled down her throat — with torches setting fire to anything it passed — and ignited in her stomach like naptha spirits touched with a flame.

Through streaming eyes and ringing ears, she realized that Laren had asked her a question. She managed to get her voice working and shrugged. “Apologies, I missed that, m’lady.”

“Distilled wine tends to do that to people if they don’t expect it.” Laren laughed then took a sip of her own goblet filled with the same explosive brew. “The trick is to take small sips, dear. I was asking you how you like life here at the palace is all.”

“Oh, it’s not anything I ever dreamed of.” Deirdre answered quickly then tried to recover her sliding sideways perceptions. “Actually, I expected things to be much grander.”

The gathering laughed, but not cruelly and Laren nodded. “Well, commoners do tend to glorify the surroundings and company at times. The truth, I fear is somewhat disillusioning to many of them who get to see it from the inside.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” Deirdre quickly answered, then grimaced. “But I do have to admit that originally I expected golden cups, tableware, and constant balls for the noble’s entertainment.”

“Do you still expect all that?”

“Oh no.” Deirdre shook her head, very cautious about taking another drink of the beverage in her blown glass goblet. She halfway expected it to fizz, smoke, and sizzle. “I’m learning that there is responsibility along with the privilege.”

“A difficult lesson for many born to the nobility to learn.” Laren nodded in approval. “From all I hear, though, you have some rather extreme notions of honor and propriety.”

Deirdre held off answering by taking a sip of the brew in her goblet and thought it was going to blow the top of her head off when she did. “What do you mean, Lady?”

“Oh, that altercation with the Lady Bridgette.” Laren answered with a shrug.

“That.” The dark haired almost girl grumbled. “Is probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“Would you care to explain?” Her hostess questioned while the others present took attitudes of close attention.

“What’s to explain?” Deirdre questioned simply then went on. “Nasty comments about me I could have handled and been catty right back. But when the bit… lady, started saying those awful things about Garret, I couldn’t stand it.”

“Defending your man is a fairly good reason.” Laren nodded then gave her guest a questioning look. “Is it true that you slapped her?”

“I challenge any of you here to say that you wouldn’t have done the same in those circumstances.” Deirdre snorted and refrained from adding ‘When the bitch was striking at someone not present, and was doing so with me before she realized I was in the room.' “Of course I slapped her!”

“Understandable.” One of the other women in the room put in.

“So what escalated that into something that had the guards entertained like they haven’t been in years?” Laren questioned.

“She grabbed my hair and tried to throw me to the floor with that leverage.” Deirdre shrugged. “To be honest, at that point I simply stopped trying to be proper and returned the favor. How was I to know she was wearing a hairpiece?”

“Did you really try to stuff that down her throat?” Another woman questioned.

“Umm — twice, actually.” Deirdre admitted with a sigh then added. “I nearly had it the last time, but the guards stopped me.”

That was met with a merriment Deirdre hadn’t expected at all, as Laren wiped tears from her eyes and grinned. “Oh, I wish I could have been there to see that!”

The others agreed with laughter of their own, and the evening degenerated into talk of what each lady really wanted to do with their men.

* * * *

“You appear to have enjoyed yourself this evening.” Garret observed as he extricated his betrothed from the gaggle of giggling — no, hilariously laughing — ladies.

“I did.” She affirmed, still clutching the goblet half filled with the fiery brew that Laren had unleashed on the gathering of ladies. “Fun people.”

“What, exactly?” The knight carefully asked. “Is in the cup you’re cradling like the heir to the throne of Jhalmar?”

“Oh, just some distilled wine.” Deirdre grinned and offered her goblet to him. “Try some? It’s really, really good. Once you get the first two or three swallows down.”

“Thank you, but you enjoy what’s left of it.” He answered while carefully making sure she didn’t try to pour the explosive brew into his mouth. “I take it all you ladies were enjoying this beverage?”

“You better believe it!” She enthusiastically responded. “We had a great time after dinner!”

“Yet another reason Laren is famous for her parties.” He sighed. “Do you think you can walk back to your rooms, or should I carry you?”

“I can walk!” She affirmed then got a sly look on her pretty face. “But carry me anyway.”

“Why, if you can walk, even if it is a bit unevenly?”

“Because.” Deirdre answered matter of factly. “If I’m over your shoulder I could kick, beat on your back, scream, and all that. C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Concentrate on walking without running into a wall, dear.” He advised.

“We wouldn’t have to worry about that if you carried me.” She pointed out.

“Walk, dearest.” Garret ordered.

“Oh, all right.”

* * * *

Without benefit of the mage concocted hangover remedy that Harald had given her the last time she’d had more than was considered healthy for a growing girl, Deirdre awakened to a throbbing headache and nausea that threatened to have her getting rid of whatever remained in her stomach before she even managed to lurch out of bed.

“Ohh.” She groaned when even a simple motion caused the room to swirl in a kalidescope of colors. “Mental note. Next time I enjoy one of Lady Laren’s dinner parties, remember to drink something a bit less explosive…”

But she also recalled that she had actually made friends the previous evening, though for the life of her, she couldn’t recall any names other than Laren’s. “I have GOT to find another way to come out of my shell!”

Pulling the cord to summon a maid, she tried not to throw up as the previous night’s escapades gleefully worked on making her pay for the fun.

The maid who answered was unfamiliar to her, and Deirdre didn’t ask her name right away, simply gave a long, suspicious stare at the cup the girl was holding out. “What’s that?”

“A hangover cure, M’lady.” The girl answered with a small curtsey while still offering the cup.

“Let’s hope it works.” Deirdre grumbled as she accepted the offering and poured the contents of the cup down her throat. “GAH!
What was IN that?”

“Better you don’t know at the moment, M’lady.” The maid answered with a sigh. “Give it a few minutes and you’ll be fine.”

Her stomach stopped trying to crawl up her throat, her senses settled, the headache vanished, and Deirdre cautiously took a deep breath then smiled as the sensations of well being didn’t fade. “Oh, thank you. I feel much better now.”

“I have used the same potion on occasion, M’lady.” The girl nodded with a smile. “It is most effective.”

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Deirdre questioned after nodding and looking at the maid for a few seconds.

“Yes, M’lady.” The girl lowered her eyes and curtsied. “I am Wilhelmina, and was assigned to you last evening. Is there anything else you require at the moment?”

“Wilhelmina.” Deirdre shook her head. “Are you called anything else in daily life?”

“Mina, my lady.”

“All right, Mina.” Deirdre smiled. “Could you have a bath readied, then breakfast?”

“Of course, M’lady.” The maid smiled and waved towards the door to Deirdre’s bathing room. “The water is hot, scented pleasantly, and ready for you now.”

“I think I’m going to like having you around, Mina.” Deirdre answered as she made her way to the bathing room.

* * * *

“I don’t believe I did that!” Deirdre lowered her face until it rested in her hands and stayed that way while mumbling something else that was unintelligible.

“Did what dear?” Jessica questioned then advised. “I might be able to actually hear what you’re saying if you’d lift your head instead of talking to the table top through your hands.”

“I have GOT to stop trying to keep up with people more experienced with drinking than I am.” The dark haired beauty sighed as
she did lift her face from her hands then questioned almost accusingly. “Are parties and getting innocents drunk, all you people do for entertainment here at the palace?”

“Of course not, honey.” Jessica answered then rolled her eyes a moment. “But this year’s founding celebration is special. It’s the 500th anniversary of the establishment of our present ruling dynasty. So the festivities are tending to be a bit more — umm — enthusiastic this year.”

“Enthusiasm I can deal with.” Deirdre grumbled. “Alcohol poisoning, I have some serious doubts about, though.”

“Then moderate your intake of spirits at such gatherings.” Garret’s sister advised.

“I plan to do that.”

“Good.” The blonde haired young lady nodded with a grin. “Now what did you do that you can’t believe you did. I can’t wait to hear this one.”

“I — umm — think I tried to seduce Garret.” Deirdre answered in a quiet voice.

“You think?” Jessica smirked, showing her friend no mercy. “Either you tried to seduce my brother — which would have made him very happy, by the way — or you didn’t. There’s no ‘think I did’ on this one.”

“Well…” Deirdre sighed. “I suggested that he could carry me home, over his shoulder. So I could kick, scream, pound on his back, and all that stuff abducted virgins are supposed to do.”

“You didn’t!” Jessica giggled then burst into real laughter. “Oh, I knew I was going to enjoy having you around!”

“Don’t change the subject here.”

“Oh, I’m not, dear sister-to-be.” Jessica chortled then waved away a retort forming on the other’s mouth. “I would call that a seduction attempt, even if a bit on the clumsy side, but it was a good try. You’ll get better at it.”

“That’s what worries me.” Deirdre grumbled.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Jessica consoled. “It’s all part of being what you are now, and you’re doing quite well at it. I heard from Lady Laren that you made a lot of friends last evening including her and her husband. Allies like that are no small matter, my dear. You’ve absolutely charmed their majesties, and others you’ve simply met in passing. Cultivate those favorable contacts and you’ll do more than simply get along while you’re here.”

“All this friend/enemy stuff gives me a headache.” Giving an errant curl of black hair an irritable tug to get it out of her face, Deirdre grimaced. “I’ve experienced that kind of thing before, but then an enemy would generally settle for rubbing my face in the mud or something like that. Now I have at least one who would cheerfully murder me in my sleep without a twinge of conscience.”

“Two at the very least.” Jessica sobered. “Our cousin, Rorick is another and a very dangerous one. That man has power and reach even here in the palace. Watch your surroundings at all times, and be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary.”

“Out of the ordinary.” Deirdre nodded then let shook her head. “Jessica, everything is out of the ordinary for me just now in case you hadn’t quite understood that.”

“I noticed dear.” Garret’s sister smiled and gave the other a hug. “I mean things like sudden changes of servants, an extra one appearing suddenly, or people you’ve never seen inviting themselves in to pass the time of day with you.”

“Oh.” Deirdre nodded then paled. “I had a new maid assigned to me last evening while I was gone. Wilhelmina is her name.”

“I sent Mina.” Jessica reassured the other. “Though it is good that you brought this up. Mina is much more than a simple maid servant. She will protect you with her life, and that protection is quite skilled in arts men frown on their women learning, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I’ll leave that one alone.” Deirdre faintly replied.

“Wise of you, little sister.” Jessica quietly answered. “Just know that you can trust Mina with your life and leave it at that, all right?”

“I suppose I should feel better.” Deirdre replied then questioned. “But why does the idea that I need a bodyguard like that scare me?”

“You are wiser than your years, dear one.” Jessica answered with a sad little smile. “Life at court isn’t all fun and games, even for the ladies. You need to understand that, and begin to deal with it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Jessica lost her intent expression and grinned. “Now, tell me about the gown you’ll be wearing to the Ball. Katrina won’t tell me a thing about it!”

* * * *

Ilene gave her one-time brother a critical looking over and nodded her approval. “You are absolutely gorgeous!”

“Thanks, I think.” Deirdre answered while fussing with the skirt of her scarlet and silver gown. “I never thought I’d be pleased hearing my own sister say that about me, you know.”

“But you are, I can see that well enough.” Ilene countered.

“Yes.” The former boy let out a sigh then smiled. “I am. How is mother handling all this?”

“Ask her yourself.” The younger girl grinned as she opened the door leading out of the fitting rooms of Katrina’s shop and waving someone to enter.

Derek’s -- who was now irrevocably Deirdre -- mother entered the room and stopped to simply stare at the young lady her son had become with an expression that was difficult to read.

“Mom?” Deirdre questioned tentatively.

The older woman didn’t answer, simply moved around to see Deirdre from different sides then moved to stand just out of arms reach of the girl she had raised as a son with a thoughtful expression on her prematurely aged face.

“Do you hate me now?” The object of the woman’s examination questioned with pain clear in her velvety contralto.

“Hate?” Maeve, Derek’s mother, repeated softly then drew in a long breath. “How could a mother ever hate her child?”

“I’m not even close to what I wanted to be for you, mother.”

“You are what you are, dear.” Maeve answered firmly. “I believe that the lovely young lady standing before me is what my poor son always needed to be. Are you ashamed for me to see you as you are now?”

“No.” Deirdre shook her head and offered a tentative smile. “But I was worried that you would think I was throwing away my father’s legacy.”

“What legacy?” The woman questioned. “Karl left you nothing but a void to fill in whatever manner you could. It wasn’t his fault, but that is how it was regardless. He loved you, Der — Deirdre, and would love you now. You are so beautiful. Any father would be proud, and worried, to have a daughter like you.”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” Deirdre hesitantly asked then moved her delicate hands over her body and the gown that covered it.

“Deirdre, my darling, Deirdre.” Maeve answered softly. “Angry? Never. You were always more the girl than boy no matter how much trouble you tried getting into when you were a child. When Ilene was born you insisted on helping me care for her, sang to her, rocked her, and I could see then that you were made to be a mother, not a father. I am happy that you will be able to become what your soul is meant to be. What mother wouldn’t be overjoyed when her child finally finds what he or she is meant to be and do?”

“A mother?” Deirdre grimaced and pushed away the thrill that thought gave her. “I haven’t got the proper anatomy to be a mother.”

“You have breasts to nurture your babies.” Maeve pointed out to her new daughter’s discomfort. “Along with the hips to bear strong, healthy babies of your own. The gods do what they will, my daughter. It does no good to argue with them about their decisions. You will be a mother, and a good one. I know that, and knew it when you were masquerading as a boy.”

“But, mama.” Deirdre argued. “I am a boy, no matter how I might look just now.”

“No, darling.” Maeve moved forward to give her newly discovered daughter a firm hug. “You are what you are. Which is the wonderfully beautiful young lady I see in front of me who is betrothed to the finest knight in the realm. You are most definitely not a boy.”

“I guess this means you still love me.” Deirdre mumbled into her mother’s breast since that was where her face presently was.

“I’ll always love you, daughter.” Maeve affirmed