6. MIDWINTER ~~~~~~~~~~Sandry, 15 A knock sounded at the door of Sandry's guest room, now permanently her personal chambers. Running to the door, she threw it open. "Daja!" she cried, jumping up and down with excitement. The dark girl smiled sedately. "It's raining," she said, irrelevantly, though her braids were plastered with the downpour. Throwing her bag on the floor, she sighed happily. "Can't wait to be back in my ol' red room. Or 'crimson sunrise', as that dork would say." "But you're back!" Sandry sighed, contented. "Just in time for Midwinter! Where's Frostpine?" Daja grinned. "Hiding in the cart. He said he'd be damned if he stepped out in the rain, so he's in exile. He said he preferred living and dying in that cart rather than being soaked." Sandry fought back a laugh. "What are you up to, friend? I mean, what happened?" The noble tried to maintain a blank expression. "What?" "I mean, we've all heard about your Princess-dom in some way or another, though I think the thief-boy had the most violent experience-" Sandry made a protesting sound. "Violent experience?" "Well, from his letter, he had a panic attack, and judging from his handwriting (which looks like catscratch anyway) he was desperate." "Well, he never told me." Slight jealousy pricked in her mind, but she shoved it away fiercely. It's not as if he likes me back, she thought furiously. A Emelan guard appeared at the door. "Milady, there's a messenger for you in the hall. A merchant named Samer of the Aschulin clan, Silk Guild." Daja looked blank but Sandry smiled. "Samer! All right, thank you. I shall be there in a moment." The guard bowed and left. Sandry grabbed her silk shawl and ran out the door. "Samer!" The man bowed, mustache twitching. "Your Highness," he teased. "But I have some packages to deliver to you and the Kisubo smith. From the boy Briar, whom I've met up with in my travels. I hate to run, but-" he lifted the box- "I have to catch up with my caravan." "Thank you," Sandry told him, taking the light box, and he quickly was out the door, an oiled robe over his dark clothes as he disappeared trhrough the gardens. "What a nice man." ~~~~~~~~~ Tearing into the pasteboard box, the two came up with wrapped packages for Lark, Rosethorn, Gorse, Niko, Vedris, Daja, and Sandry. "How did he know you were going to be here?" Sandry asked. Daja shrugged. "Maybe Niko told him?" "Yeah. Well, it's basically Midwinter's day right now-" the clock ticked one o'clock- "so I can open it!" Sandry grinned. "I love being childish, it's so much fun." Daja pulled out a stitched silken cloth. "Oh, this is great! I can cover my Kisubo box with it, last week I accidentally scratched the top with a incense holder." Holding up the brilliant cloth, she smiled. "I think it'll fit perfectly. I think-" she paused, touching the corner of the cloth. "There's some kind of magic here. Don't know what it is..." She shrugged. "Protection, most likely." "It must be Samer's guild's make, they have some mages to do that," the noble replied. She opened the smallish box, pulling off the plain brown paper to expose the lid. Fingers agile, she opened it and gasped. The trader perked up. "What happened?" "It's nice," she choked out. Turning the box in the light, the metal rose gleamed and the emerald, small but clear, shimmered. The facets winked at her, like a green eye that belonged to... Turning her hand, Daja peered in. "Oh, I just knew it!" she cried aloud, grinning her face off. Staring at the rose, then the gemstone, she continued: "This must have cost him." "Just knew what?" Sandry's heart was in her mouth, but she kept it firmly shut as she watched her friend anxiously. Daja looked at her funny. "I think he has a crush on you. Actually, more like in love. He was going nuts when Samer or something told him the Nemornese were pushing suitors at you." Sandry, remembering the greasy young men, grimaced. "I went nuts too, when they did that. Daja..." "D'you like him, too?" She blushed. "Um, yeah, but it's hard. I haven't seen him for forever, and letters are so slow. I miss him, and sometimes I wonder...what if he met someone else, and-" "Oh, you two. We knew it was going to happen, though I think Tris is in denial. After all, he kept following you around, and you comforted him the most, and he comforted you the most, and, oh yeah, that time in the mountains when he tried to feed you berries...? Must I go on?!" Sandry hit her with a small pillow. "All right. Stop. I get it, and I also admit...things," she said diplomatically. "However...what do you mean, Tris is in denial?!" Daja flinched slightly. "She likes him, too." "What a party. What about you?" "Nah," the trader laughed. "No thieves for me, I only accept metalmakers." "Good, otherwise we would have a really weird circle of friendship..." Sandry slipped the ring on her index finger. "I think I'm going to go insane. But one thing...Uncle made the Nemornese promise to let me live here, and also to not marry me off. They have five other princesses to do that to." "Yet they're still trying to set you up with stupid guys...?" "Unfortunately. Briar better come to visit soon, or there will be a dead suitor in the courtyard as a warning to others." Daja laughed, before handing Sandry her own Midwinter gift. "He gave you something nice, if i must say so myself. Are you ever going to tell him?" "I don't know," she said, remembering the letter and charm she had slipped into the pocket of her gift to the plant-mage. Dear Briar. I miss you so much...Love Sandry. And the charm itself, a small silver and gold pendant on a black silk cord, the deep green stone imbedded into the silver circle etched with protection and love. "Perhaps he knows?" She slid the golden circle onto her first finger, which it fit perfectly. "Perhaps..." ~~~~~~~ 7. RETURN ~~~~~~~~~Briar, age 16 Running through Zak's door and yanking the sheets off his friend, Briar yelled, "Niko's letting me go back for a while! Wake up, you lazy lump!" Zak mumbled, snoring slightly as he pulled a pillow over his head. "Great. You can go meet that girl you like. Leeme 'lone, now." "Zak!" "Well, it's true." "But Zak!" he cried aloud. "I'm going back! In two months, Niko's coming to get me. I get to travel, the Duke guy is sponsoring the trip, and I get to see everyone, especially..." He stopped, as Zak began to laugh at him. "I told you." Rubbing his blue eyes awake, he sat up and simply slumped over. "Besides, you wear that charm thing around you neck all the time-" he gripped it subconsciously with his hand, fingers searching out the small engravings. "I can't wait!" he yelled, flying out of the room with speed, jumping over obstacles and nearly smashing into his own door. "I'm going to Emelan!" ~~~~~~~~ He was packed, entirely, before he drew on the soft, dark green cloak, it's woolen warmth protecting him from the chilly rain. Briar's callused fingers stroked the cloth, savoring the tiny, almost imperceptible leaves woven into the pattern. The waggon clattered up the cobblestone walk, and the driver hopped out cheerily. "Hello, lad. Briar Moss, t'would presume? Master Goldeye cannot make it, poor chum. But he tol' me, Ashmer Jemal, to tell you that you can bring someon' along, seeing as he already paid for two." "Niko's not coming?" Briar was utterly confused. "Wasn't he-" Ashmer laughed heartily. "Had to go collect the girl Trisana from her studies. He figgered that both of you haven't been home for a while, and the Duke and her Ladyship Sandrilene rather wanted at least three of you younguns to be there for the Autumn Banquet. The metalgirl would be there later, though. " "Oh. Okay." He could accept that, at least. But Tris there...? That might change some things...like, for one, no privacy, along with sarcastic comments and frank appraisals of his sticky situations. How would he talk to Sandry with Coppercurls there? "Well, that's good, anyway." The man leaned against his waggon comfortably, patting the two horses that pulled the sturdy cart. "Well, I'm waiting, lad. T'other? He can pack fast. Her Ladyship said she would provide anything needed." "Sandry was sure specific," he said, before trotting back into the building. "Hey, Zak? Zak! Can't you be awake for two minutes?" Dashing up the stairs, he roused the blonde boy and managed to shout the information into his sleepy head. Ten minutes later, his parents shocked and pleased with the "fine invitation," Zak and his bags bundled into the back of the waggon. "We're going to Emelan!" his friend cried aloud, his bright face joyous. "Hey, I can meet that girl of yours." "She's not my girl..." Briar protested, face flushed. "Yet." "And you have to promise me, not to say a single word about this. Promise?" Briar poked Zak in the arm, who nodded meekly. "Course, Briar-ol'-buddy, wouldn't even dream of it. Unless..." That last comment launched a noisy argument, until Ashmer yelled over the din, "Can't a fellow have a bit of peace and quiet while he's drivin' horses through the rain? You bludging idiots! D'you want these scurvy 'scuzes rearin' on me and all? They're a mite dangerous." With that, Ashmer gestured to the sleepy though fit horses, whose hooves clumped morosely through the soggy mud. "Sorry, boys, we'll get you into your dry stable soon," he told them, while Briar and Zak laughed. ~~~~~~~~~ 8. TO BE WITH YOU AGAIN… ~~~~~~~~sandry, 16 She combed her long hair slowly, letting the ivory teeth run gently though the well-worked strands. "Today," Sandry told her reflection, "And Tris tomorrow!" The news had been delivered this morning, and she felt as if the world had been handed to her on a silver platter. Sandry was scared silly, for the first true time in her life. Even the dark cellar, the net of nothingness, the time her magic had whispered to her of the woman's murder, those had been calculated fears. She knew what to do, or what she should be doing, and so therefore her hands had some small strip of sanity to grasp. But this...was entirely unknown. How would she act? What would happen? And most importantly, did he like her back? For she had this strange feeling, as if her heart was already given away, and if he did not care for her as she did him life would not be worth living. But she had only a few hours to wait. Dammit. ~~~~~~~~~~ "Hey," Briar shouted. "Zak, we're here. All you do is sleep, wake up you lump!" He groaned. "Yeah." Ashmer banged the side of the waggon. "Now, get out, you all. We're here, and its a pretty bit of stone, don't you think?" His arm gestured widely to the large palace and gardens. "Home sweet home," Briar mumbled. "C'mon, Zak, there's a back way in." Grabbing their bags, the two boys waved merrily as Ashmer drove his cart away to the stables. "It's secret, you know. Don't tell-" he began, before a dark shadow slipped through the bushes ahead of him. "Aw, I guess it ain't a secret, after all. Wait up!" he called to the figure, who slipped through the hedge and managed to disappear. "Who was that?" "Dunno. Doesn't matter, does it?" They emerged through the hedges into the spectacular garden, blooming beautiful flowers that called out to him happily. Where's the string-girl? he asked them. The blossoms clamored for his attention. The thread mage? She's near the roses, and did you know she can talk to us a little bit? a daffodil said, her slightly empty mind quite content with the simple life of a garden plant. She can? A little bit. Thank you. He walked quickly towards the section that smelled of roses, Zak following behind in awe. "We're staying here?" he asked, oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place. "Here?" His open face registered absolute shock. "It's awfully nice. Look at this place!" "Well, yeah. It's the Duke's." Briar kept a steady pace, down the small path to the rose garden, the pale pink petals already visible. Turning a corner and nearly nicking his elbow on a large thorn, he caught sight of a figure sitting on a stone bench, playing with a tiny grey kitten. He stopped, breath caught in his throat, as she turned. The gauzy pink scarves woven into her long, loose golden-brown hair trailed to her waist, and lovely blue eyes blinked in surprise. "Briar?" she called out. "Is that you?" Zak stood still, mouth gaping. "Oh, wow, Briar. You sure pick 'em. Not that you've picked any in Yanjing, but not that I blame you...Gods..." "Shut up," he hissed. Zak grinned a little bit at his friend's anger, fingering the bend in his broken nose. Sandry stood up, the kitten placed gently on the bench. "I can't believe it!" she cried aloud, running up and colliding with such force that they spun around twice as his bags were abandoned on the pavement. "It's been so long already!" Her arms felt marvelous around his neck, but he forced himself to forget that aspect at the moment. "I've missed you so much!" he blurted out, but she smiled shyly anyway, staring up from her shorter height, at least two handlengths below him; she dropped her arms hastily but yet clasped his hand in both of hers. "I'm forgetting something," he muttered. "Zak, this is Sandry, Sandry Zak. Niko went to get Tris, right, so I brought him. For some reason. He slept the whole time." "Hello," she said, smiling cheerfully. Her arms had slipped away from her embrace, sadly, but she still retained his hand in hers. Briar doubted he could remember much more than his name and perhaps the words "I like Sandry" at the moment, for she would not relinquish his hand. Not that he wanted her to, after all. "I've heard about you from Briar. It's nice to meet you." Zak gaped a bit more, like a fish, before mumbling a quiet, "Hello." "We have to tell Uncle! He'll be so pleased," she said happily. Picking up the kitten, Sandry turned back to the two boys. "Ready to go? This is Rosie," she told him. "I found her in the rose bushes, and adopted her." The kitten wrinkled its tiny pink nose and purred at him, batting at his curly hair with a tiny paw. "I think she likes you." Sandry smiled up into his face, and Briar blushed while Zak grinned and stared longingly at Sandry until the plant-mage shot him a warning glare. "Let's go! The banquet is tomorrow, and we still have to find you two something nice to wear! I'll check the Stores, there should be something..." She tugged at his sleeve in the direction of the castle, and the flowers chuckled to Briar as his mind clouded over and his face flushed. In fact, he was so caught up in the moment that he entirely forgot about the shadowy figure in the hedges. ~~~~~~~~~ 9. CLOTHES?! "Well," Sandry said critically, staring at both Zak and Briar, "How about this?" Rummaging neatly through the piles, in her hands appeared a blue and silver tunic, stitched with a network of sunbursts, stars, and moons, and a dove grey breeches and soft white shirt for Briar. Zak stared at the bright cloth, his country-bred eyes dazzled, but Briar stared instead at the closet, piled high with embroideries, clothes, tunics, dresses... "You've been really busy." Sandry grinned. "Well, I have had a bit of time in my hands. Uncle let me sit in on his Council meetings, and some of his chauvanistic ministers protested until they saw me doing domestic tasks while in the room." She shrugged, her outrage barely supressed. "Uncle doesn't mind, and when I'm old enough perhaps I can be his scribe or helper. If I don't attack his ministers." Zak laughed. "So you made shirts and clothing." "Sewing, second nature. I still listened, but..." she grinned. "I ended up with this stash. That's how I got to know Samer a bit, and his guild. Buying more stuff to do." Sandry handed him a shirt, pale blue with matching silver embroideries on sleeve ends. "I have to fit you all now, " she told them, pointing to the painted Nemornese paper screens at the other end of her room. "Call me when you're ready." She slipped out the door quietly, leaving them with the finery. As soon as she left the room, Zak let out a held-in breath. "Man, she's something," he commented wistfully. "Any girl or woman from Yanjing wouldn't dare defy the council...and look at this! I've never seen such fine work." He held up the darker blue pants and smiled. "I've never worn anything so nice." "This is nice," Briar said, stroking the soft nap of the white shirt. Peering at the smooth, thickly woven cloth, he saw that a pattern of leaves and briars had been woven into the shirt cuffs. "This must have taken her forever." From outside, Sandry had returned to the doorway and was shouting, "Can I come in?" "Yeah," Briar called out. "We're decent." She only had to slightly alter the clothing for both of them, though Zak jumped visibly as her magic plucked at his slightly-long sleeves. After it had been altered, with magic-wielded string, she sent him to search for the "light blue room," three doors from the end of the hall, left side. Sandry frowned at Briar, standing stiffly in the fine clothing. "It fits rather well," she said critically, "I'm sorry it isn't green, but I think the only green tunic I had would have been too small- you've gotten taller. And anyway, it was pretty much made for you." "Really?" he asked, incredulous. She made it for me? "Actually, yes, it was." With small, flicking motions, the cloth settled smoothly to his shoulders and conformed. "I think it's the same silk as my dress, the shirt. It was so nice I had to get a lot of it, for some reason. Only a few adjustments...are you set for anything else? Regular clothes? Stuff?" "Yeah," he said, "At least I think so. I'm just glad to be back." He crossed through the bathingroom. "Am I here, or somewhere else this time?" He peered into the green room, and greeted the shakkan, sitting happily in the corner. "Here," she said happily, watering the infamous and now very timid ficus tree in the corner. Zak returned a few minutes later, in his regular clothes. "Hi," he said, sitting in one of the chairs. "Oh, so soft," he said happily. Both Briar and Sandry grinned. "It's nice," she replied. "Sometimes, I sleep on the couches. It's comfortable too, and sometime the beds are awfully oppressing." She pointed to the huge canopied thing in the corner, draped with ornate brocade. "And the fireplace is closer to the couches, too." The Yanjing boy looked so content that Sandry just had to laugh. "Is your room okay? Because theres a lot more, if you would rather..." "Oh, but its great!" he said enthusiastically. "I've never been in a room so big!" Briar laughed. "Then you're in for a shock, Zak. You gotta see the ballroom." ~~~~~~~~~~~ 10. BEFORE THE BALL Tris was expected either that night or the morning, Briar knew, and he hoped there would be enough time to see Sandry without the touchy Coppercurls in the way. Or that Pasco boy, whom he had met a couple of hours before. The tall lad, fourteen, had looked him over warily before asking him, "Are you in love with Sandry?" She had made a strangled noise and he was out the door in one second, but she still was furious. "Pasco, you have better watch out," she warned, waving one finger at her student. He guffawed, neatly trotting out of her reach. "Just asking," Pasco called over his shoulder, before her scarf launched itself at his head. "Ahh! Yazmin!" he yelled, only to be answered by her scathing remark: "What now? It was probably your fault, anyway. Come here and practice." Sandry turned back to Briar, cheeks red. "Sorry about that," she muttered. "He can be such a strange one sometimes." Briar grinned back, wondering what she was thinking at the moment. Hastily changing the subject, she asked brightly, "Where's Zak?" Briar laughed a little bit. "He said he had never tasted such good wine that wasn't strong at all," he told her, and she giggled. "He's sleeping it off. I forgot to tell him that it was a bit different than his Inn's dark ale. Theirs is nearly like water," he explained. She grinned a little, sympathetic. "Is he embarrassed?" she asked kindly. Sandry leaned on the windowsill, elbows on the cold sculpted stone. The breeze was growing chilly, she noted, but she didn't want to return to her own room yet. "Not really, no one was there but you, Pasco, and me. Not too bad," he commented. "He's probably disgraced himself far more before." "Oh. Well, if his head starts to hurt in the morning, Dedicate Moonstream showed me how to weave a remedy into cloth. It helps aches of all kinds, I think," Sandry said cheerfully. "Maybe it can help." A knock sounded at the door, and it opened, revealing the Duke. "Get some rest, both of you," he said kindly. "I know you want to talk, but tomorrows going to be a long day." He made a face. "Sandry, I will need your help tomorrow, and Trisana is also arriving in the morning." "Thank you, Uncle," Sandry responded, and Briar agreed. Vedris smiled and shut the door again, his heavy footsteps slowly thudding down the hallway. "Excuse me a moment, then," she told Briar. "I'll be back, but I'm going to change for bed." After she left, he did the same. Strange, wasn't it? Like old times, almost, like Discipline. Briar shrugged into a lighter cloth shirt, and the old breeches he used for nightwear. He never bothered with nightshirts, they were for sissies anyway. He sprawled at the window seat, head on one of the beautifully embroidered cushions. Sandry reentered in a moment, grinning. "Never will change, will you?" she asked. "Always the same clothes." He nodded, feigning an apologetic posture. Sandry settled by the window, propping her chin on her knees. She wrapped herself more tightly in her shawl. "Gods, it's cold," she commented idly, tucking herself under the deep cushions. "I thought it was supposed to be a warm night." Briar shrugged. "I'm warm. Maybe if you wore more clothes, it would help." Then covered his mouth hastily. So he liked her dress a little. He didn't have to be such a chuffle, but it was lovely. He jerked his eyes away from her hair, where it was braided and pinned sturdily above her bare neck. "Oh, whoops. I shouldn't have said that, right?" "What?" she shrieked, hitting him with the flat of her palm. "Not. Not true, its perfectly acceptable attire." Actually, a bit not, she admitted to herself. But it was pretty, and she liked it. The rose-colored ribbons tied at her shoulder, the only sleeves the shift had. And the cloth, a soft white, fell softly to the floor from an umpire bodice, and though the top itself was sufficiently high, it was...different. Her friend Kairi in the city told her that boys could not resist a bare neck and shoulders. So she foolishly tried it. Ah, well, too late. "Well," he replied waspishly, before rolling over to close the window. "Yeah, it's a little bit cold." Briar turned his face to the window, waiting for the blush to go away. It was pretty, and so was she; however, he didn't want to admit it just yet. She curled up, like a cat, on the cushions next to him. Yawning, she picked up the grey kitten, placing it gently on the pillow next to her. "Tired," she said, snuggling into the soft, deep rug. "Yeah." Even against her will, Sandry felt her eyelids drooping. The lights dimmed and faded as she fell asleep. Briar watched her for a moment, before curling up beside her. What would Zak say? Or do? A smile made the very edges of his mouth turn up with mirth. He knew it was stupid, and that he really shouldn't. But so tempting! And another thing just like old times: he knew it would bother her (though hopefully she wouldn't mind) and that it would make her mad at him. Briar grinned, wondering what the reaction would be if she knew he was watching her sleep. He folded himself next to her, settling on the elegant cushions with a small sigh. Sandry muttered and rolled over, her hair gently touching his chin before she was still again, nearly in the curve of his arms. Exhaling slowly, Briar tried not to move; she didn't stir. Willing himself to fall asleep, so his decision would not change, he succeeded and the world receeded into darkness. ~~~~~~~~~~ A clatter below them woke him, and the sunlight drifted through his closed lids. Opening one green eye, and then the other, he was rewarded with the image of Sandry, still sleeping. Then his gaze trained down to his arm, around her waist, and he nearly jumped up from where he lay. Schooling his breath to a near minimum, Briar blinked twice before calming his nerves. Slightly. She was curled up against him, twined firmly close in his arm, with her forehead resting against his chest. So close, in fact, he believed he could hear her heart softly beating against his own. Her hand, small but very strong (he knew very well from his Discipline days), was neatly holding his upper arm. With a slight start, he realized that his golden rose ring graced her index finger. He was glad he hadn't moved, otherwise waking her and frightening the both of them. Briar suddenly realized the precarious situation and his insides froze, but surprisngly not from shock. The sounds below, the clattering and horsehooves, increased to a volume that was no longer ignorable. Sandry stirred, inhaling deeply, then opened her bright blue eyes. Now, if he wasn't such an idiot, he would have kept his eyes closed and pretended to be sleeping. But, instead, he met her gaze squarely and the noble's eyes widened. Every nerve on fire, from his hand on her waist to their touching legs, he uttered one hesitant word. "Sandry?" The tiny crease between his eyebrows, the curling, ever-messy hair disheveled, only increased his look of uncertainty. Not that she felt any better. "Yes?" she asked quietly, attempting nonchalance, but her voice betrayed more than she might have wished. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. Sandry watched, entranced, as he shifted his face a bit closer to hers, leaning slightly forward until their lips were only a hand's length away and- And just below the window, a loud voice said grumpily. "Hey, you guys!" Simultaneously, the two sat up, shielded from view by the heavy, closed curtains. "Tris?" Sandry called out, blushing furiously. "Is that you?" "Yeah," came the reply. "Barely made it for the holidays. 'Autumn Banquet,' Niko said, 'Couldn't miss it.' " "I'll get dressed," Sandry said hurriedly. Standing hastily, still a flushed red, she turned to leave. Quickly, Briar grabbed her hand, and the noble paused. The strange look in his green eyes warmed her cheeks as he stared searchingly into her own blue eyes. Shyly, she squeezed his palm before dashing off to her room. Dressing, Briar couldn't quite meet Sandry's eyes as she slipped back into his room. They instead ran to meet Tris in the hallway, where she was struggling with the heavy hall door. After a round of hugs, which Briar didn't especially enjoy, they turned back to the chambers. The windmage stood in front of Sandry's door, trying the knob. "How come it's locked?" she asked, puzzled. "How did you get out into the hallway, without opening your own door?" Both Sandry and Briar looked mortified for a moment, for there was no true way to explain that. "Oh!" she muttered, attempting a diversion. "Wait! We have to wake up Zak!" Briar agreed eagerly, and they nearly sprinted to the sleeping boy's door. "Who's Zak?" Tris demanded, running a hand through her messy hair. She looked practically the same after all these years, with glasses and grey eyes. The only real change was that her hair nearly reached the bottom of her ears, a feature that testified her growing control over lightning. "Zak's Briar's friend," Sandry explained, glancing shyly at the plant mage. Tris glanced at the two of them, slightly puzzled at their bizarre antics. "He's from Yanjing." She raised her delicate hand to tap politely at the doorway, but instead Briar opened the door and barged in. "Zak, wake up," he said loudly, stomping over to the bed. "It's morning." "Ow," the reply came from the mass of sheets. "Too loud." Sandry glared at Briar, glad of the excuse to look at him with mock indignation hiding her emotions. "Here," she pulled a silken cord out of her skirt pocket. "I truly thought you might need this." With deft motions, she tied the white cord around his wrist in an intricate knot. "Hey, my head feels a lot better," Zak said gratefully, sitting up. "Thanks." Tris snorted. "Hi," the blonde boy said brightly. "Did I meet you yesterday?" Zak sat up, entirely dressed from when Briar dumped him, snoring drunkenly, in his guest chambers. "I don't remember..." She grunted softly. "No, but not that you'd remember. If I were you, I would watch how many fair maidens you toast during the ball tonight." "Toast? Fair maidens?" Zak asked, confused. Sandry smiled. "A tradition, in this area. A fable and a bit of superstition, I must say. Tris?" she asked, "Explain?" The redhead shrugged. "Actually, that's all I know about the ceremony. I think we'll defer to the expert, unless Briar claims knowledge, for once?" Tris looked at the boy, but he looked blank. Once again, Sandry remembered Daja's words, and wondered if Tris really did have feelings for Briar, for she did seem to look at him a lot. Sandry sighed. "Centuries ago, the Autumn Festival was celebrated in the rural areas that is now Emelan. It's dreadfully romantic," she warned. Both Briar and Zak looked plagued, but Tris' eyes lit up. "I need a good tale," she said eagerly. "Fine," Sandry said. "A farmer's daughter, a young woman, had fallen in love with the son of the village's headman. Though they begged, the couple wasn't allowed to marry, for she was already betrothed against her will to an older man of their liking." "Oh, gods," Zak muttered, looking disgusted. "Its one of those stories." "Yes, it is," the noble replied waspishly. "They planned their scheme in secret, with the hope that their parents would not disregard the union. The Autumn is when the Gods look down at the harvests, and they believed such holy witnesses would deter the parent's wrath." Briar rolled his eyes, but continued with the plot nonetheless. "The lovers decided to meet in the woods on the night of the Autumn Feast, to drink the cup of marriage on the day the gods deemed blessed. The boy made his way undiscovered, luggin' the required wine, but the girl was stopped by her parents." "They attempted to hold her as she slipped through the fence, but in a fit of rage her father shoved her into the millpond. She drowned, and though her father regretted his anger after, it was far too late." Sandry added. "The young man waited for long hours, until he heard the trees themselves whispering of her death." The plantmage shrugged. "He went nuts. The lad drank the toast to his girl's spirit, vowing his 'eternal love,' before leaping into the river to join her in death. They say the stars themselves, bid by the maiden, lifted his dead body from the water." "That's so sad," Tris said breathlessly, and even Zak looked a bit interested. "That's why its tradition," Sandry finished, "to raise a goblet of crimson wine to only one individual this night, usually the person whom you have affection for. And under the stars, which is why the banquet is held outside, if weather permits." "So we do that?" Zak asked, confused. "I mean, we don't gotta marry them or nothing, right?" Sandry rolled her eyes. "What do you think?" she teased, blushingly aware of Briar standing beside her. "If that happened, why, I don't think anyone would come to Uncle's banquet! But be careful," she warned. "Don't drink more than a glass, or the charm will wear off." "Fine," he grumbled. "And the point is to toast just one female," Briar told him, and Zak made a face. "You remember that, won't you?" Zak laughed, sighing half-heartedly. "I was never a one-woman man!" he exclaimed jokingly. Briar grinned, knowing how true that statement was about Zak, before wondering what he himself was. A one-woman man...person? He wondered what Sandry was thinking at that very moment. ~~~~~~~~ The next hour saw Briar, Zak, and Pasco in the kitchens, while Sandry struggled with Tris' dress. "Honestly," the noble said, exasperated. "Cannot you stay still for one moment?" The weathermage scowled. "No." She raised her arms for the sleeves' fitting. "It's nice, though," Tris said grudgingly. Sandry looked at her handiwork, and smiled. The cloud-grey cloth, cut nearly perfectly for Tris' plump figure, was quite becoming, with the darker grey and silver embroideries that decorated the gown. "Tonight will be fun, will it not?" Sandry asked. "We're mostly together." Nervously, she twisted the rose ring on her finger, a habit that she increasingly used as of late. "Yeah...Briar sure has changed, hasn't he?" Tris said, glancing wistfully down at her skirt. As she saw the emotion flicker through her friend's grey eyes, Sandry's own blue eyes filled. This morning had been shocking enough, and she was quite sure now that Briar cared for her. Yet, what of Tris? What would she say...for Sandry knew now that Tris had feelings for Briar. She remembered Daja's words, however. "You cannot punish yourself for what is going to happen anyway," the dark girl had told the distraught noble. "What if you don't ever speak of it? Both of you could live in misery for years, like Rosethorn and Crane. You know they will not even allow themselves to recall those better days. Is that what you want?" Sandry breathed deeply, dispelling the last of the tears before Tris could see them. "Well, we're ready," she said brightly. "Tonight, I shall weave ribbons through your hair, and put it up." "Niko won't let me grow it out much," Tris muttered. Her fingers lightly touched the fiercely curling strands, shamefaced. "It's too short." "It's fine," Sandry told her friend gently. "See?" Fingers directing the silky ribbon, she demonstrated the hairstyle she planned. Tris' face colored with delight. "Lovely," Sandry told her, with a smile born both from happiness for her friend and the guilt that rested deeply and heavily in her breastbone. ~~~~~~~~

ToRtaLLaN TaLeS II