The day has finally arrived when Garia is deemed old enough to be considered an adult. That means a formal ceremony, following a similar one for Prince Keren. Does anybody really think that it will all go smoothly? This is a significant moment for Garia as it means she is now head of her own noble house. There are changes for her staff, too.

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2011-2012 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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She hugged his body, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her head resting on his firm chest muscles. She could feel him breathing, she could hear the strong beat of his heart. One of his arms was around her shoulders, the other around her waist, holding her close, just as it should be. This was it! She had never known what it was that she had been aiming for, all these months and years, but she knew that she had it now. The feeling inside her was so strong, she felt as if she would burst if it became any stronger. He was her man and she was definitely his woman. They had proved themselves to each other over months of intrigue, ambush, danger and battle, against foes both two-legged and four-legged. They had faced down the disapproval of a Kingdom to affirm their everlasting commitment to each other, and this was the first day of the rest of their lives. Very soon -

"Milady."

< ! >

"Milady! Wake up, we're late!"

"Unh. What?"

A hand rested gently on Garia's shoulder and she reluctantly turned over, opening her eyes.

"Milady, we have overslept. You must rise, we have much to do today, and the timetable is strict."

Her eyes snapped open as the import of Jenet's words hit her. She groaned and sat up in the bed, catching her maid and pulling her towards herself. Jenet rolled her eyes and perched on the edge of Garia's bed, putting one arm around her charges shoulders. Garia sagged against her.

"I don't want to do this, Jenet. I'm tired. I feel as if I've been stretched too thin."

"There's no help for it, milady. Today is an important day for you and I must get you ready. It's just unfortunate that last night's meeting was so long. Now, shall you make use of the toilet while I pull the rope for water?"

Garia groaned again. "As you command, Jenet. You're a cruel, hard woman, did I ever tell you that?"

Jenet gave her a final squeeze and stood. "As you say, milady. Now, shall you rise?"

Garia waved her off and began pulling the covers back. "Go on. I'm getting up, honestly I am!"

"Don't forget, milady, we break our fast up here this morning, so you need not worry about dressing yet. Just ready yourself for your bath."

"Yes, yes, Jenet! I'm coming!"

It was amazing how the morning cup of pel did so much to restore her to life. By the time she had finished her breakfast Garia was awake, alert, and ready for whatever the day would throw at her.

"I don't need to ask if everything is ready, do I?"

"All except your boots, milady. Master Haflin promised to have them ready for this morning, but if there is any delay then the other pair is available."

Both sat in their fluffy dressing gowns at the table in Garia's sitting room where she very occasionally ate, most often 'when Kalikan called'. This morning she would be wearing her house colors for the first time in public and she hadn't wanted to get them creased before the ceremony. The special ceremony in the Receiving Room in which she would become, formally for all to see, an adult in the eyes of the laws of Palarand.

Unfortunately Garia had mixed feelings about the entire event. In some respects it was much like getting your first driving license or being allowed to drink legally for the first time, but on the other hand, it would also confirm her as a noble and make her entirely responsible to the King for a significant plot of land and who knew how many people. It would also bring her into contact with another group who might not be so pleased to see her - her fellow nobles.

Somebody with a wrecking ball was trying to smash her door to splinters. Garia jumped and then realized who her visitor was.

"Jenet, go and let Haflin in, please."

He entered, filling the entire end of the sitting room, saluting her with a bang of fist on chest that would have done King Kong proud.

"Milady. I have your boots, ready for you as promised."

He held out the footwear and Garia took them, noticing immediately what he had done. On the outside of the right boot, running up the calf, a scabbard had been carefully stitched holding the blade of a knife. The hilt of the dagger, cleanly and simply made with almost no ornamentation, had a loop around it to ensure it did not fall out.

"Thank you, Master Haflin. I'm still not sure why I need a knife, or why it has to be on my boot."

He smiled at her. "Milady, today you will likely receive an ornamental blade, to be worn at your waist, as a gift from the men," he explained. "It would not be the kind of weapon to have with you in the field, though, so I thought of something you might find more practical. This can be used for your meals or for foraging, that kind of thing. I would not put it on a belt scabbard, since your... shape might prevent it from hanging properly." He gave her a look which she interpreted as meaning 'the difference between a man's body and a woman's body'. "Every rider should always have a short blade nearby, in case their beast becomes tangled in the harness and must be cut free, for example, or to relieve suffering if a beast is badly injured. Placed on your boot it will be easy to reach when you are in the saddle."

Of course. They can't just shoot them, can they? Putting a frayen out of it's misery would be a messy job. She shuddered. Can't see me doing that to Snep. I'd have to get one of the men to do it.

"Thank you, Master Haflin. That is most thoughtful of you."

"My pleasure, milady. And here I have new scabbards for the swords you will receive today. Regrettably those swords will not have the temper I would prefer, but the nobles will not know that. I will ensure that tested blades are ready within the week, milady."

"Thank you again. Jenet?" Jenet gathered the harness and swords from Haflin. "Shall we see you this morning, master?"

"At the parade only, milady. There is much to do, so if you'll pardon me?"

Jenet showed Haflin out and the two women looked at one another.

"So," Garia said. "No excuses left, then. Time to get dressed."

"As you say, milady."

While Jenet was straightening things and making sure all was prepared Keren knocked on her door. He eyed her up and down with appreciation.

"Maker! That's... very clever, if I may say so. You've managed to be both entirely feminine and completely martial at the same time. You'll certainly give that rabble downstairs something to think about."

"That was the whole point, of course. I wanted to make sure they didn't automatically assume I was 'just a girl'."

He grinned at her. "No, you're very definitely not that! You're going to make quite a impression today."

"And so will you, Your Highness! I do like it when you're all dressed up like that."

Keren wrinkled his nose. "I don't mind wearing clothes like this, because I know that since I'm a Prince I have to sometimes. But I'd rather be down in the training halls wearing my exercise fatigues! I imagine you're exactly the same."

"You know it!" She sighed. "But I'll be glad when today's over. The last week has been madness. I'm just so tired."

"Aye, I am as well." He gave her a smile of encouragement. "Once today is over you can rest for a short while."

"...Until we have to start getting ready for the journey north, you carefully didn't say."

He flicked a hand. "We do that often enough that Kendar and Terevor can handle it easily. Don't worry over that. Well, I must be going. See you in a bell or so."

Her next visitors came shortly after Keren had departed, and looked very mysterious.

"Good morning, Garia! It felt quite odd, creeping about the corridors dressed like this."

Merizel and Bursila were wearing hooded silk cloaks which completely covered them from head to foot. They had all spent sessions with the King deciding on how to approach this moment and this had been one of his ideas. All four of them would wear the silk robes, completely hiding the new livery they all wore underneath, and all would discard the robes at the moment Garia was called forward in the Receiving Room.

"Your outfits all right, Merry? Bursila?"

"Yes, of course, Garia! Rosilda and her band of needleworkers have made a wonderful job of these uniforms." Her eyes took on a faraway look.

"You're not worried about this morning, are you," Garia guessed. "You're more interested in the parade."

"Aye, I am. Is it that obvious?"

"What else? Ever since you had your saddle we've practically had to drag you off that poor beast's back."

"I know! I'm really pleased that you managed to talk the King around to letting us ride."

"Well, let's get through the ceremony this morning first, and then we can worry about getting our beasts ready for the parade. Business, not pleasure, Merry."

Merizel's face sobered. "As you say, Garia. Shall we help you with your own cloaks? How are you going to get them to cover those scabbards? Oh, I see."

A footman appeared at the door and the four women made a last check that everything was in place before following him through the corridors. When they reached the Receiving Room they paused outside the doorway while the last few nobles passed them to take their places within. There was a constant murmur from inside which meant that the King and Queen had not yet arrived. A hiss made Garia turn.

"Feteran," she murmured to him. "All is well?"

He saluted her. "Aye, milady. A strange day for me. I always thought I would spend my life in the Palace Guard but today I am leaving it. Yet," he smiled at her, "there is no place I would rather be than at your side, begging His Majesty's pardon."

The hum from inside quietened and the footman who had brought them began to look agitated.

"Our turn," she said quietly. "We'll see you later, Feteran."

"Aye, milady. And... good luck, milady."

They were ushered inside to stand at the back wall beside the doors, which were closed behind them. Only the nearest of the assembled nobles saw them and few took any notice. Other than themselves and Terys, who was now standing in front of her throne, the hall was filled with forty to fifty men. Garia began to feel vulnerable.

Yikes. I keep forgetting that they don't do women nobles around these parts. Leastways not very many, and with years between, if what Kendar says is true. ...And I bet I'm the youngest person in the room, male or female. Duh, that has to be true, doesn't it? It's today I come of age, officially, and one can't properly become a noble until one is an adult.

Robanar and Terys took their seats and then Kendar called for the assembled nobles to be seated. That made sense in that everybody could now see what was happening. Garia noticed that some of the more senior men sat on the usual chairs along the side walls but other had to make do with low benches, probably brought from the training halls. Unfortunately, no-one had considered their quartet which meant they remained standing at the end of the room.

Kendar banged his staff and spoke. "Will His Highness Prince Keren stand forth before the King!"

Keren had been sitting near the rear of the hall and he now stood to walk proudly towards his father. When they met Robanar said something quietly to Keren and then put his hand on his son's shoulder, turning him so that he faced the nobles.

"This is my son," he said, and the hall was still. "Seventeen years ago today, my wife, the woman who is today your Queen, gave birth to this boy, and you have watched him grow into the fine young man who today stands before you. I avow and affirm that this young man is my own son and legitimate heir. Is there any here today who wishes to dispute this declaration?"

There was a short, low burst of murmur but it stilled quickly. Most of the nobles had encountered Keren frequently over the years as he grew up so could vouch for his legitimacy.

"Therefore, I declare before you all, that my son the Prince Keren is of sufficient age to be considered a man, to be able to reign in his own right should it become necessary, to take the field of battle as is required of any man of Palarand, and to enjoy all the perquisites of his position without the need for regency. Do you all witness?"

"Heard and witnessed!"

The first response was distinct, but it was immediately followed by a general repetition from the assembled nobles. Someone started clapping, and this soon swelled to envelop the voices. Slowly, stillness returned.

"As a man of Palarand, my son requires a sword to defend himself, his peers and his King." Robanar turned and reached for a sword which had been thoughtfully propped against the back of his throne. He turned back and presented the sword two-handed to Keren, who in turn took it two-handed.

"Receive this sword from the hands of your Sovereign. Use it with care, in the defense of your lands, your people, your peers and your King and Queen. Do not draw it in anger but only when it is needful. You cannot befriend a man who is at the point of your sword."

Keren bowed his head and said, "I accept this sword. I will use it only as instructed, Sire."

He then seated the sword in the empty scabbard he had been wearing since he dressed. Robanar spoke to the nobles.

"So that you may know my son and his retainers, it is customary to provide a symbol, colors and a device which both show that he is his own man and yet that he is of royal blood. Today, I will award him symbol, colors and device. Kendar, bring them forth."

The Chancellor advanced with a cushion bearing a coronet, followed by a servant carrying a stack of cloth in his hands. As Kendar presented the cushion Keren went down on one knee. Robanar lifted the coronet and held it briefly over his son's head.

"This symbol shall confirm and announce to you all that the wearer is a Prince of the Realm," he said, lowering it onto Keren's head. "Treat him with the respect accorded to his status. Rise, Prince Keren."

Robanar took the uppermost item from the servant and unrolled it to reveal a sash in the royal colors of purple above and dark blue below, but with a center band of light blue, half the width of the other colors. He held it up for the nobles to see before wrapping it round Keren's waist, Keren having to help him tie it tidily at his left hip.

"It has ever been the custom and practice in Palarand for the sons and daughters of the King to wear the royal colors differenced by another band. On this occasion the blue of the sky has been chosen."

Then Robanar, with difficulty, took the remaining cloth and unwrapped it to reveal a flag of which he held up one side and Kendar the other. It showed the royal colors in vertical bands, purple against the hoist, in the center a light green disc with a symbolic river winding across it in black. Below the disc was a small gold crown.

"This is the color of the heir to the throne of Palarand," Robanar said. "It has not been seen in these lands since they were my own colors fifteen years ago. Some of the older among you may recognize them. Henceforth, these shall be the colors of Keren, Prince of Palarand."

Robanar helped Kendar wrap the flag into a manageable bundle and then turned to the nobles again.

"As you all know, in Palarand we do not give awards unless there has been a notable achievement which merits the award. Oft-times in the past, it has been the custom in Palarand to award the province of North Palarand as the domain of the Heir to the Throne. I do not see fit to make that award today. A simple reason is that the present Duke of North Palarand, my younger brother Gilbanar, rules that province well, and I do not see why he need be disturbed to satisfy the desires of a young man who, while he may be able, knows nothing about the governance of such a large area of land. Instead, my son continues his education in other ways. In time he will learn to do that which is required of him, and I am sure," he bared his teeth at his audience, "that if it were necessary any number of advisors would come forth to assist him."

A not so subtle dig at the nobles, I guess. If Robanar were to die soon - God, I hope he doesn't - then they'll all be crawling out of the woodwork, won't they? Fortunately, it seems both Robanar and Keren recognize the problem.

"Any awards my son will receive will be honestly earned by him," Robanar continued.

I wonder if that's another dig at the nobles?

"He has been learning skills and knowledge not usually associated with the royal line of Palarand. Because of this, he may receive awards from other bodies in Palarand, awards unusual to a gathering such as this."

There were frowns and mutterings from the floor, now. Some of the nobles looked puzzled, as well they might. The Guild system was trade, and not something that any noble wanted to dirty his hands with. One had servants to do that sort of thing. Once Keren's connections with the Questors became known, that would cause mutterings too.

"The reason for my son's interest in subjects not normally of interest to any noble is the presence of a young girl in Palarand."

Ah! Looks we're up shortly, then.

"She arrived among us some four months or so past, from a far distant land called Kansas. She has no knowledge of her way here or how she may return. Because of this I offered her sanctuary in the palace and she has since been formally adopted by us. Once settled in our palace she has amazed us with her knowledge and abilities. Because of her presence Palarand will soon be a different place, one which promises wonders and conveniences previously unknown to Alaesia. Because of the need to protect this young woman, and in gratitude for the gifts she has already given the kingdom, I have made her a Baroness in her own right, that she might have her own lands, income, retainers and protectors."

There was a distinct muttering on the floor now. One or two began to peer suspiciously at the group of shrouded women standing against the rear wall, realizing that one of them must be whoever the King was speaking about.

"In Kansas they number the days and years differently than we do in Alaesia, so that it has become difficult to determine exactly when she may progress from girl to woman. It seems she may be a month or so younger than my son. It matters little. My son Prince Keren has graciously permitted that her coming of age should be shared with his own, and the moment has come. Garia, please stand forth."

Showtime!

Garia turned to Jenet as Merizel turned towards Bursila. The four women helped each other unpin the cloaks which had concealed their clothes. Removing them, they handed all to Jenet who carefully bundled them together before placing them out of the way on the floor at her side. Then, with a nod to them all, Garia turned and walked down the center of the room, her gaze fixed on the thrones at the far end.

She wore a short-sleeved tunic of sage green underneath a tabard of olive green. This had been her suggestion since discussions with Kendar had shown that most color combinations, as might be expected, had already been taken. What made her go for green-on-green was a word remembered from a recent conversation: camouflage. Her chosen colors would be distinct enough in themselves to mark her and her retinue out in company but would have the useful side effect of helping them blend in with the scenery if they found themselves in trouble when out in the country. Over the tabard she wore the double scabbard and harness Haflin had delivered earlier. The scabbards were empty, just as Keren's had been.

Her tunic was tucked into a skirt of olive green, but what drew the eyes of everyone in the room were the ten box pleats of sage green spaced equally around it, flashing the lighter color as she moved. Rosilda had assured Garia that nothing like it had ever been seen in the Valley, though pleats were known as a fashion detail. Garia's mind had been on the practicality of keeping her legs free for action while not encumbering herself with an unwieldy skirt. A remembered memory flash of cheer-leaders' uniforms had given her the idea. In this society skirts the length that a cheer-leader would wear would not be tolerated so Garia had compromised on knee-length, which was still only just within the bounds of propriety.

Her hair had been carefully trimmed the previous day by Shelda herself and it was now just to her jaw-line, a perfect bob. Lightly oiled as was the custom, her hair shone as she walked through the ranks of nobles. There were gasps as some noted her boots with the attached dagger, and at the corner of her eye she saw one mature baron surge to his feet with shock and outrage, to be hastily pulled back by the men on either side. The noise behind her began to rise in volume.

Garia came to a halt in front of Robanar, who stood with Keren to his right. Before she could even think about curtseying or saying a word there was a scuffle to her right and every eye turned to discover the source.

Oh, shit! I'd forgotten that!

The chairs usually placed against the walls had been pulled forward to allow a narrow walkway and guardsmen were stationed at intervals along both walls, each formally half-armored and armed with sword and spear. One of the guardsmen, enraged, was trying to get to another guardsman but was being held back by two others. Further men were hurrying across the floor while most of the nobles had risen from their seats, hands reaching for their own weapons. Even Keren had his hand on his sword. The two guardsmen exchanged words in a foreign language and Garia understood with a shock exactly what had happened, and also what everyone else in the room thought was happening.

"Sire!" she said, loudly enough to draw Robanar's attention. He turned to her. "You are safe, Sire. This is a private matter, there is no danger to anyone here." Beside the King, Keren's eyes showed sudden understanding. "If I may, Sire?"

Robanar looked confused but nodded, relaxing slightly. He was the only man in the room not wearing a sword. Garia turned and walked towards the melee provoking startled looks from the nobles nearest her. She reached the groups of guardsmen at the same time as Vern.

"Vern," she said crisply to him, "This is a private matter between these two men. A matter of honor. The King and Queen are not in any danger."

Vern looked at her dubiously. "If you say so, milady." He stood waiting for instructions as Garia turned to the men.

"Stop this at once. You embarrass your King in front of his nobles. Vern, get these two out of this room and keep them somewhere quiet. Separately, so they are not even in hearing distance of one another. They do not threaten the King, this is a private dispute between them only. We can deal with them afterwards."

She spoke to the two men directly. "D'Kenik, this is unfortunate, go quietly and await developments if you please."

He saluted. "As you command, milady."

She wheeled to face the other guardsman, the angry one. "You. You're D'Janik, right?"

He had stopped struggling to regard her with a look that was somewhere between shock and disgust. "As you say, milady."

"You are both right and wrong. Go quietly with these men and your accusation shall be answered with honesty - by me." The last two words she said in a language she had never spoken before and had up till then only ever heard one word, the word D'Janik had flung at D'Kenik in the language of the Six Cities - oathbreaker.

D'Janik's eyes widened with surprise. He relaxed, bowed to Garia and allowed himself to be led away by Vern and two men, all with their swords drawn. As the other men scurried back to their positions against the walls Garia made her way back to stand in front of Robanar. A voice from the crowd made them all turn.

"Sire, what has happened? Are you in any danger?"

Robanar raised his voice so that all could hear. "Vargon, nobody is in any danger here today. My son tells me this is a private matter between two guardsmen which ought to have been settled elsewhere." He grunted. "Most irregular. Men! Take your seats, please, or we shall be here all day."

Robanar turned Garia so that she was facing the crowd whilst he rested his left hand on her right shoulder. His voice rang out.

"If any demonstration were needed just how extraordinary this young woman is, you have just witnessed a taste of it. Ahem! Let us begin again. This young woman is my adopted daughter Garia. She came to us by means unknown from a distant land called Kansas which is not in Alaesia or the nearby islands but somewhere else entirely. In Kansas the days and years are reckoned differently than they are in Alaesia, and she does not know how long her journey here lasted, so that she is unsure of the exact date of her birthday. By our joint reckoning she is certainly of an age to be considered an adult. Do any among you wish to make a dispute of her age?"

An older noble near the front spoke up. "Sire, I do not understand. A day is a day, surely, and it is therefore simple enough to count back the years? Why can this not be done?"

Robanar and Garia had agreed that they would keep the explanations as simple as possible to try and avoid their problems multiplying, but would offer as little additional information as needed to satisfy any requests.

Garia replied, "My Lord, where I was born, the days are but nineteen bells long and our years have only three hundred sixty five days and a quarter. It is not so simple as just counting back."

The questioner looked taken aback and went almost cross-eyed as he tried to make sense of what he had been just told. However, he offered no further objection and Garia silently sighed with relief.

"Therefore," Robanar resumed, "I declare before you all, that my adopted daughter Garia is of sufficient age to be considered a woman, to hold lands in her own right should that become appropriate, to take the field of battle if she so desires and to enjoy all the perquisites of her position from this day forward. Are there any objections?"

There was a stunned silence in the room as the entirely unorthodox declaration was made.

"Sire!" A different voice was raised in disbelief. "Do you tell us that this girl is a warrior?"

"My Lords, she is. She has told us that many women in the country of her birth fight as fiercely as their men and indeed that they serve in their country's standing armies."

"But she is so young! This is not possible, Sire!"

"Rechanar, I give witness to you all that she has met and fairly bested Duke Jarwin of Virgulend in the ring of honor, using no weapons but her hands and feet."

They had all heard news of that contest and the room buzzed with speculation and conversation.

"Furthermore," Robanar's raised voice quietened his audience, "she tells us that she is not considered a particularly unusual person in her own country and that she is little different to any woman of Palarand. This makes me wonder what the women of Palarand might be capable of, were they only given the same opportunity. We may discuss this notion later, if you so wish, though our time this morning is strictly limited because of the parade. I ask again, do you witness my declaration of her coming of age?"

"Heard and witnessed, Sire!" An old man at the back spoke up. He was followed, reluctantly, by a number of echoes from the floor, enough to give the declaration legal status.

"Then hear me," Robanar continued. "As those of you who joined us at our Harvest Festival will know, at that date I conferred upon Milady Garia the Barony of Blackstone. I deemed that as a stranger among us she needed to have her own income and protection, more than the palace might provide her. For those of you who do not know where Blackstone lies, I can tell you that it is a small town at the northern end of North Palarand, where Blackstone Vale joins the Palar. Although there is little there now, there is enough to provide a base for Baroness Blackstone and it gives her the status her abilities deserve."

What he doesn't say, of course, is that the whole place is full of coal and in twenty years it's going to be richer than all of you put together.

Some of these guys don't look all that pleased at Robanar railroading this through without so much as a by-your-leave. I wonder, do they think he's somehow gotten besotted by me? I hope not.

Robanar returned to the customary formula. "So that you may know my adopted daughter and her retainers, it is customary to provide a symbol, colors and a device which both show that she is her own woman and yet that she is of the royal household. Today, I will award to her the symbol, colors and device appropriate to her position and status. Kendar, if you please."

The symbol was a medal and chain of silver, very similar to that which the Guildsmen had given her. This appeared to be a standard means of identifying a Baron, although she noted nobody else in the room seemed to have bothered wearing their own. Robanar managed to place it round her neck without tangling it with the scabbards.

"As you may see, she has chosen new colors for the house she now heads. In addition, since she is adopted into the royal family, she is entitled to wear differenced royal colors to signify the relationship."

He took from the servant the smaller bundle and unrolled it to show a sash. This one was purple above and dark blue below, as before, but this time the half-stripe in the center was pink. Robanar managed to wrap it round her waist, over the tabard, without obvious difficulty.

The flag was next, and Robanar unfurled it to hold it up to show all the nobles with Kendar supporting the other side. It was two vertical panels of green, with the lighter green against the hoist. In the center was a black circle, inset with a square tilted so that the corners were top, bottom and sides. Kendar had told Garia that it was customary for women to have a device with a diamond or a tilted square while those of men were generally circular or oval.

The square was divided vertically with the left half of sage green and the right half of olive green. Crossing the center of the square were two gold swords, indicating Garia's martial nature. Above was a small, white, five-pointed star to remind her of her home. Underneath was a large white capital letter A, which only Keren currently recognized, which was intended to indicate learning.

With the flag furled and carried away, Robanar had one final duty.

"Despite her apparent size, Milady Garia is a fine warrior who we are fortunate to have residing in our lands. Because she is so small, she may not carry such a sword as a man might, but by chance an alternative has been discovered which suits her well. Therefore, I will present her with swords appropriate to her needs, in recognition of her ability in the field."

He reached back behind his throne again and returned with two of the short swords. Handing one to Keren, he presented the other as before, across both hands.

"Receive this sword from the hands of your Sovereign. Use it with care, in the defense of your lands, your people, your peers and your King and Queen. Do not draw it in anger but only when it is needful. You cannot befriend a man who is at the point of your sword."

Garia bowed her head and said, "I accept this sword. I will use it only as you instruct, Sire."

She reached up and carefully slotted the blade into one of the scabbards. Robanar took the other sword from Keren and handed it to her without further words and she seated it into the remaining scabbard. Finally, she faced Robanar and stood to attention.

He smiled at her. "Come stand beside Keren and myself."

He gestured to his left and Garia moved there while Keren positioned himself to his right. Robanar placed a hand on a shoulder of each.

"Behold," he told the assembled nobles. "This is my son and my daughter. Know them, for they are now man and woman before you."

The nobles all stood and bowed towards the royal group before straightening and staring at them. Garia wasn't sure but it might have been the older man who had first witnessed her who began clapping. He was joined by many of those in the room but by no means all. She knew that a number of them disapproved of what had been done today, some on general principles, while others were confused by who and what she was while a third group were rattled - as she had been - by the unexpected interruption.

Finally the applause died away to be replaced by a general muttering. Robanar removed his hands from their shoulders and spoke to the nobles.

"This business is concluded," he announced to the room, "but the Queen has a duty to perform as well."

Garia moved aside as Terys rose and stood by her husband, speaking for the first time that day. "Would the supporters of Baroness Blackstone stand forward."

Jenet and Bursila walked side by side down the length of the room with Merizel two steps behind them. The maids were wearing standard servant dresses but in Blackstone colors of quartered green-on-green, the lighter green being upper left, with sleeves of the contrasting color. Merizel proudly wore another outfit new to Palarand, a short-sleeved blouse of sage green with a very short sleeveless vest of olive green over it together with an olive pencil skirt. The group reached the front, stopped and curtseyed.

"Lady Merizel," Terys asked, "daughter of Baron Kamodar of South Reach, you have chosen to join House Blackstone as a retainer. Do you do so of your own free will?"

"Your Majesty," Merizel spoke in a high, clear voice. "I do."

"So be it. Know that by doing so you do not lose any of the rank and status due to you as the daughter of a nobleman. You take our best wishes with you."

Merizel curtseyed and stepped back. Her presence and that of Bursila was almost entirely for show. The Queen wanted to formally say farewell to Jenet.

"Bursila, you are maidservant to Lady Merizel. Do you follow her to House Blackstone of your own free will?"

"Your Majesty, I do."

"Then you may go. You shall take our appreciation of your excellent service with you to your new station."

Terys turned to face someone who had once been maid to her children.

"Dear Jenet, you have been a faithful servant of the crown these many years," Terys said. "Is it your desire to leave the service of your King and Queen and join House Blackstone?"

"Your Majesty," Jenet replied formally, with a quaver in her voice, "it is."

"Then you may go, with our blessing," Terys said. "Know that you take the personal thanks of both your monarchs with you for all your past services."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Jenet curtseyed, unable to stop the tears from flowing. With Terys's words, her life had effectively changed for ever. She had been born in the palace, grown up in it, served in a number of capacities from kitchen drudge to personal maid. Now she was no longer one of the palace staff as she had been her entire life. From today, she had officially become a servant of the newest noble holding in Palarand.

Robanar turned and nodded to Kendar, who banged his staff of office.

"This audience is at an end," the Chamberlain announced. "Since the Palace Guard presents itself for parade at noon, an early lunch will be taken. Would the nobles clear the center of the hall so that the lunch tables may be assembled!"

There was a general surge away from the center of the room as everyone was familiar with the dining routine in the palace, similar to that in most noble houses. What was unusual was the surge of about a third of the crowd towards the thrones and the royal party. Some wanted an explanation of why guardsmen were attacking one another, others wanted to find out more about the tiny girl who had made such an impression on their King. Robanar was forced to raise his voice to quieten everybody down.

"There is no time for this business," he told them firmly. "I know nothing about what happened before except that I am assured there was danger only to one man present and he was a man of the Palace Guard. I will tell you more when I discover more, which will not be until after today's parade." He paused, looking at the variety of expressions facing him. "As for Baroness Blackstone, she will be available for your questions at this evening's dinner and gathering. For now, men, prepare yourselves for a standing lunch, since those who are interested must make themselves ready for the parade at noon."

A "standing lunch" turned out to be what Garia would have called a "buffet". Once the food had arrived the royal party was allowed first pick and then stood near or sat on the seats nearest the thrones while the nobles jostled to fill plates, tankards and goblets. One or two still attempted to speak to Robanar and Garia but were ushered away by Kendar.

"Sire!" It was Merek, arriving breathless from organizing the parade. "I heard that there has been trouble during the ceremonies? I beg pardon, Sire, I ought to have been here to prevent whatever happened."

Robanar, plate in one hand and fork in the other, turned to Merek. "Hmm? Nonsense, Merek. You couldn't be everywhere, could you? Besides," he waved his fork vaguely in Garia's direction, "the Baroness handled it. Seems two of your men had a disagreement." His eyes hardened. "Not the best time to argue, in front of all my nobles. We'll judge the matter once the parade has finished."

"Sire, if it is a simple disciplinary matter, there ought be no need for your own attentions."

"Normally, Merek, I'd agree with you. However, the Prince tells me the matter is of some delicacy, therefore, we must needs proceed carefully." Robanar searched his plate and impaled a vegetable on his fork. He grunted. "Wait till the parade is over, Merek."

"As you wish, Sire. With your leave, I will return to the parade ground."

Merek departed and Garia, Merizel and the two maids concentrated on bolting down enough food to last them the afternoon. Once they had all finished she turned to Robanar.

"Sire, with your permission, we must withdraw to change for the parade."

Robanar waved his fork. "As you wish, Garia. Go on, leave now while the nobles all have their mouths full."