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have done. I don’t even want to.” She stood. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I need more green thread. You will sleep here tonight?” Kel nodded. “Good. I should have the rest of these done by bedtime.” She left before Kel could say anything.
    “These aren’t goodbyes,” Kel told herself. “Just the next chapter in our lives.” She looked at her bed to see who had stayed with her and Jump. Crown, the white-spotted male named Freckle, and ten other sparrows perched there.
    “You’ll come with me?” she inquired.
    Crown nodded.
    “Thank you,” Kel told them. “I hope you like our new quarters. Do you want to see them?”
    two
THE KING’S OWN
    Kel needed only a key to enter her quarters, no magic password. It seemed unlikely that anyone would maul her things and paint on her walls, as they had her first year, when the connecting door now led to Lord Raoul’s suite. Once inside, she looked around. This room, bigger than her squire’s and page’s quarters combined, boasted a desk, a bookcase, armor and weapons racks, and a map of Tortall over the desk. A dressing room with its attached privy was opposite the door that led to Lord Raoul’s rooms.
    Her belongings were here. Lalasa had set Kel’s collection of Yamani waving cat figures on the mantel. Kel’s old books were beside those already in the case. Her clothespress, weapons, and all the things she exercised with were neatly arranged; her silk painting of two Yamanis dueling with glaives was hung. The bed had fresh sheets and pillows: Kel or Lalasa would bring her nightclothes and blankets in the morning. Even the birds’ and Jump’s dishes were there, filled and ready. The twelve sparrows flew to them instantly.
    Looking around, Kel suddenly realized the connecting door was ajar. From inside Lord Raoul’s rooms she heard voices.
    “… isn’t decent. You know court gossips, Raoul. They’ll have you in bed with her before today is done!”
    “Now I’m confused, Flyn.” That was Lord Raoul’s voice, slow and good-humored. “I thought they’ve had me in bed with other men for years, since I’m not married.”
    “Not around me or the lads, they haven’t,” was the growled reply. “We’ve explained it’s nobody’s business.”
    “Then explain the same thing about Kel and me, Flyn,” Raoul said. “That’s easy enough.”
    Flyn - she knew the name. Of course: Flyndan Whiteford, nominally in command of Third Company in the King’s Own, in reality second in command to Lord Raoul, who personally led it whenever possible. Kel had met Flyn three summers ago, during the spidren hunt at the end of her first year as a page.
    “Stop joking, Raoul,” Flyndan replied. “I’ve served with you for fifteen years. I’ve a right to be heard.”
    Raoul sighed. “You know I listen to you.”
    “Then be serious. The girl will have no reputation, and neither will you. The conservatives will be furious you picked her.”
    “So?” Raoul asked. “They dislike me anyway, just for the changes I’ve made in the Own. How much more can they hate me because Kel’s my squire? And she’s had four years to think about her reputation.”
    “She’s fourteen - she can’t understand all the consequences,” Flyndan grumbled. “As a noble she wouldn’t be thinking about marriage and babies for another couple of years.”
    Raoul continued, still patient. “But as a commoner she might be married - and producing babies - right now. Stop fussing. She’s intelligent, and she’s steady. Some people always believe the worst.”
    “You only did it because Lady Alanna asked you to,” snapped Flyndan.
    Kel swallowed a gasp. Now she was really glad they didn’t know she was listening. She shouldn’t be. It wasn’t right. Educational, but not right.
    There was a sigh in the next room. “Alanna mentioned it, but I’ve had Kel in mind since the spidren hunt. Everything I’ve heard just confirms that she’ll do well, given a chance. That’s what I’d