Since returning to Camelot, Melissa had been quiet and moody, but no one expected anything else. After all, she had been most horribly abused, as the knights often said. But they loved her, to a man; she was, to them, the symbol of womanly beauty. A real damsel in distress. And it made no difference that they had failed her. She was still their own fair maiden.

More handmaidens had arrived, to handle every day tasks and to sometimes satisfy manly needs, but no more fair maids, and this increased her desirability. The problem, of course, was that she did not want to be desired. For the most part, the knights were men who looked like Kronos. No matter how she tried, she could not get his face out her mind, and ever without the telltale Kronosian scar, it was difficult not to react with horror when one of the knights came upon her unannounced.

Arthur and Lancelot and others who did not have the Kronos face tried to put her at ease while soothing the feelings of their comrades, but it was always tense at the castle. And so the days slipped by.

She became even more sullen, if that could be possible, about a month after she returned. As time went on, her depression grew, until at last, in response to a polite inquiry by Count Vronsky, she weepingly confessed that she might need to see a doctor.

Vronsky thought it might be some female ailment of the nerves, and offered to go to Edan to fetch one.

"If they have one there who does not look like . . ." She paused, reddening. Vronsky nodded, understanding the unspoken words, and then excused himself to ride to Eden.

Unfortunately, of course, there were no doctors there who looked like anyone but her attacker. Giles volunteered at once to go; if it had to be one of them, it might as well be him. No one questioned it. They all knew why he wanted to go.

"I just hope she's all right," he said, mounting a horse nervously. He'd only been on one once, and it hadn't turned out well. "We really need to get a carriage of some sort made."

"I can go to the fort and get the wagon," offered Vronsky, but Giles knew it would take them a long time to get there, and the fort needed that wagon. Not to mention the fact that he wanted to get to Melissa as soon as possible.

The trip was long and arduous, and Giles was saddle sore and weary by the time they arrived. Vronsky was a cavalryman, as well as a nobleman; he'd literally grown up in a saddle. It was humiliating to ask for time off, so he'd pushed himself, trying to compete with someone who was not even close to his level of horsemanship (if you could call the sub basement a level at all!) He was left wondering if he'd have to heal himself before he ever got to look at what was troubling her.

Of course, one of the things that troubled her the most was having to see a doctor who looked like Bronze Age Methos. Giles could understand this, but he had no choice. "Apparently this model is best suited for medicine. Even our Vet has this face." He tried to smile. "If it makes you feel any better, one of the Methoses is a cracking doctor named Ben Adams."

She shuddered.

"I guess it doesn't make you feel better." He didn't know what was wrong with him. He usually had such a good bedside manner!

"I am sorry, Doctor. And I do know you mean well. It's just that . . . my problem is of a personal nature. I do wish you had a female doctor."

"I understand there is a female wererat in Esperanza. Should I have her come up?"

Melissa blinked. "Were-rat?" she asked slowly. Giles shrugged.

"We are looking for Lady Katherine, who's a midwife. At least it is some medical training, if not a real degree. Oh," he said quickly, "but I didn't mean to say I thought you were expecting! It's just that she might help with more . . . delicate matters."

Melissa broke out in loud weeping sobs. "That's just it, Doctor Davies! I *am* expecting!"