“Now what that actually meansis not one damned thing, except I expect you to be polite.”

“Yes, Aunt.”

“My servant Margret tends to us; breakfast and lunch are cold and left over on that table over there. Supper will be with the Court for you once I get you introduced. If you miss it, you can take your chances with us. Lessons, hmm. For now - oh - Donni, I want you to take him with you in the morning and turn him over to Kayla; Withen was rather insistent on his getting weapons work, and for once I agree with him.”

“Yes, Savil,” the short, tousle-haired trainee said calmly. Savil blessed the girl’s soothing presence, and also blessed the fact that she was lifebound to Mardic. Nothing shook a lifebond except the death of one of the pair. Vanyel’s handsome face wasn’t going to turn herhead.

She rather dreaded the effect of that face on the rest of the younglings at the Court, though.

“Mardic?”

The imperturbable farmer’s son nodded his round head without speaking.

“Take him to Bardic Collegium in the afternoon for me, and get them to put him into History, Literature, and - “ she wrinkled her brow in thought as her three proteges arranged themselves around her.

“How about Religions?” Tylendel suggested. He raised one dark-gold eyebrow and Mindspoke his teacher in Private-mode, his lips thinning a little. :He’s lovely, Savil. And he Feels like he’s either an arrogant little bastard, or somebody’s been hurting him inside for an awfully long time. Frankly, I couldn’t tell you which. Is he going to be as much trouble as I think?:

:Don’t know, lad,:Savil Mindspoke soberly. :But don’t get wrapped up with him, not until we know. Anddon’t fall in love with him. I have no idea where his preferences lie, but even Withen didn’t hint he wasshay’a’chern. I don’t want to have to patch your broken heart up. Again.:

:Not a chance, Teacher,:Tylendel mind-grinned. :I’ve learned better.:

:Huh. I should hope. Oh, Lord of Light- Idid give all of you grabs at Dominick’s old room, didn’t I? I don’t want to start this off with hurt feelings- :

:Yes, you did, and none of us wanted to move,:Tylendel mind-chuckled. The garden door may be nice but it’s drafty as the Cave of the Winds. If I had someone to keep me warm- :

:I could get you a dog,:she suggested, and watched his lips twitch as he tried not to smile. :Well, that’s one worry out of the way.:Then said aloud, “All right, Vanyel, History, Literature and Religions it is, and weapons work with Kayla in the morning. She teaches the young highborns, and she’s very good - and if I find out you’ve been avoiding her lessons, I’ll take a strap to you.”

Vanyel flushed at that, but said nothing.

“Donni, Mardic, Tylendel, give Vanyel a hand with his things; we’ll put him in the garden chamber. I had Margret get it ready for him this morning.”

As the three trainees scooped up a pack apiece, and Vanyel bent slowly to take the fourth, Savil added a last admonition.

“Vanyel, what you do with your free time is your own business,” she said, perhaps a bit more harshly than she intended. “But if you get yourself into trouble, and there’s plenty of it to get into around here, don’t expect me to pull you out. I can’t, and I won’t. You’re an imposition. It’s your job to see that you become less of one.”

Vanyel thanked the trainees for their help as they dropped his packs to one side of the door, speaking in a voice that sounded dull and exhausted even in his own ears.

The blond one hesitated for a moment - just long enough to give him what lookedlike a genuine smile, before slipping out the door.

But despite that smile, Vanyel was mortally glad when they didn’t linger. He closed the door behind them, then leaned up against it with his eyes shut. The entire day had been confusing and wearying, an emotional obstacle course that he was just happy to have survived.

The worst of it had been the past couple of hours; first, being shuttled off to Savil’s quarters with Erek and Garth suddenly deciding to act like the jailers that they were, then the interminable wait - then the Interview.

Her words had hurt; he willed them not to. He willed himself not to care.

Then he moved to the middle of his new room and looked around himself, and blinked in surprise.

It was - amazing. Warm, and welcoming, paneled and furnished in goldenoak, and as well-appointed as his mother’s private chamber. Certainly nothinglike his room back at Forst Reach. A huge bed stood against one wall, a bed almost wide enough for threeand covered with a thick, soft red comforter. In the corner, a wardrobe, not a simple chest, to hold his clothing. Beside it a desk and paddedchair - Havens, an instrumentrack on the wall next to the weapons-rack! Next to the window a second, more heavily padded chair, both chairs upholstered in red that matched the comforter. His own fireplace. A small table next to the bed, and a bookcase. But that wasn’t the most amazing thing -

His room had its own private entrance, something that was either a small, glazed door or an enormous window that opened up on a garden.

I don’t believe this,he thought, staring stupidly through the glass at the sculptured bushes and the glint of setting sun on the river beyond. I just do not believe this. I expected to be in another prison. Instead - He,tried the door Iwindow. It was unlocked, and swung open at a touch.

- instead, I’m given total freedom. I do not believe this!His knees went weak, and he had to sit down on the edge of the bed before he collapsed. The breeze that had been allowed to enter when he opened the window made the light material used as curtains flap lazily.

Gods- he thought, dazedly. I don’t know what to think. She saves Star- then she humiliates me in front of the trainees. She gives me this room- then she tells me I’m the next thing to worthless and she threatens to beat me herself. What am I supposed to believe ?

He could hear the murmuring of voices beyond the other door, the one the tall blond had closed after himself. They sound so comfortable out there, so easy with each other,he thought wistfully. They were terribly un-alike, the three of them. The one called Donni could have been Erek’s twin sister; they looked to have been cast from the same mold - dark, curly-haired, phlegmatic. The shorter boy, Mardic, had the look of one of Withen’s smallholders; earthy, square, and brown. But the third -

Vanyel was experiencing a strange, unsteady feeling when he thought about the tall, graceful blond called Tylendel. He didn’t know why.

Not even the minstrel Shanse had evoked this depth of - disturbance - in him.

There was a burst of laughter beyond the door. They sound so happy,he thought a bit sadly, before his thoughts darkened. They’re probably laughing at me.

He clenched his teeth. Damn it, I don’t care, Iwon’t care. I don’t need their approval.

He closed his walls a little tighter about himself, and began the mundane task of settling himself into his new home. And tried not to feel himself left on the outside, telling himself over and over again that nothing mattered.

The slender girl Vanyel’s aunt had called “Donni” looked askance at all the padding and armor Vanyel picked off his armor-stand and weapons-rack. “Are you really taking all that?” she asked, hazel eyes rather wide with surprise.

He nodded shortly.

She shook her head in disbelief, her tight, sable curls scarcely moving. “I can’t see why you want all thatstuff, but I guess it’s your back. Come on.”

There’d been no one in the suite when Vanyel woke, but there hadbeen cider, bread and butter, cheese, and fruit waiting on a sideboard in the central room. He had figured that was supposed to be breakfast, seeing that someone- or several someones, more like - had already made hearty inroads on the food. He had helped himself, then found a servant to show him the way to the bathing-room and the privies, and cleaned himself up.