"Fionn, boy, don't stand there daydreaming!"

"Take this out to the tables." Stewardess Halora barked, her tone at odds with her motherly face. She handed him a large platter of roasted meat. "Watch yourself, it's hot."

The young man nodded obediently and made his way into the spacious dining hall, the dish held carefully in both hands. The aroma rising from it elicited a resentful growl from his stomach, as the kitchen staff did not eat until after everyone else had. It wasn't fair, Fionn reflected, that those who made the food should be the last to eat it...

Just ahead of him, a rider rose from the table, pushing his seat back. Seeing it too late, Fionn walked right into the chair. He stumbled to one side and the plate slipped out of his grasp, landing with a resounding crash. He winced at the sound.

People were looking up to see the cause of the disturbance. Fionn felt the blood rising to his face, and he busied himself gathering up the fragments of pottery and meat.

"K'tan, you should look before you push your chair back like that!" snapped a girl's voice from somewhere in the vicinity. "Here, let me help you with that."

Fionn glanced up and saw the speaker, a girl about his own age—-fifteen years. She knelt down and started cleaning up the mess with practiced efficiency.

"Oh – no – I can..." he stammered, protesting. If she could talk to a rider like that, she must be important. In other words, she shouldn't be on her knees cleaning up for a lowly kitchen worker.

"Nonsense," said the girl in a tone that brooked no argument, "It wasn't your fault, and you can't very well pick up all this yourself." She had dark hair and hazel-gold eyes, and a plain silver pendant dangled from her neck. Fionn could only stare and nod.

The young woman procured an empty bowl from somewhere – Fionn was too dazzled to notice where she got it from – and dumped the mess into it. The bowl was then thrust into his arms. "Here you go. I trust Halora won't be too hard on you."

And with that she was gone.

Fionn's heartbeat returned to something near normal, and absently he carried the vessel back to the kitchens. Halora did give him a round chastising for being so clumsy, but he barely heard it. When she was done, he asked, "Do you know anyone who has amber eyes and wears a blank silver medallion?"

The stewardess eyed him. "That would be Ilene, the Lady Guardian's daughter. Why?"

"I – nothing. I was...just wondering, that's all." The young man answered hastily. The Lady Guardian's daughter! No wonder she could scold a rider with impunity. To think she had done that just for him, Fionn, anonymous serving-boy!

He was hopelessly in love.

The next time Fionn saw Ilene, she didn't appear to recognize him. This was depressing, but not very. Merely being in her presence seemed to make the sun shine brighter for him.

No one had ever spoken up for him like she had, minor as the incident had been. No one else he knew would ever lower herself to get down on the ground in the middle of a crowded dining hall and pick up bits of dirty meat and broken plate for a total stranger.