Disclaimer: The world of Tortall and associated characters belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Betrothed to Him

After being forced to abandon her dreams of knighthood, Kel finds she is betrothed to a man she thought she would never see again

Prologue

The room was dark. Unlike many of the other rooms at the royal palace, this one was simply furnished. A desk took up the largest portion of space, its surface scattered with scrolls and unbound parchment. The corners of the room remained shadowy, the only light coming from one glimmering lamp, which cast its light no further than the boundaries of the table it sat on.

The bells had not yet rung the midnight hour, but it was already silent. Even the birds outside had ceased to chatter and sing. It was not the time of year for balls or parties, and the palace was mostly deserted. The nobles that remained chose quieter pursuits, or they were already tucked up in bed.

A man sat behind the desk, his hands steepled. He was dressed plainly, his tunic unembroidered, but clearly cloth of good quality. Lord Wyldon was not a man who was concerned with fashion. He was clean-shaven, his little hair cropped close, and his otherwise handsome features marred by a large scar that slashed across the right side of his face. His expression was hard to read, but his eyes surveyed the girl standing before him.

Nobody would have thought this girl was the sort to have created such argument at Court the last four years. She was unremarkable looking, tall for her years, her nose delicately formed, her hazel eyes dreamy and long-lashed. Oddly for a female, she too was dressed in a shirt and breeches. The quality of the fabric proclaimed that she too came from either a wealthy or noble family. Kelady of Mindelan's eyes levelly met those of the palace training master, and she waited.

Lord Wyldon sighed, and the silence was broken.

"Is this true, Mindelan?" he asked. "You mean to give up your knighthood?"

Kel nodded once. Her face remained blank. Lord Wyldon would be surprised by her sudden decision, she thought. He of all men, knew that she was stubborn to the core. Lord Wyldon had spent enough time trying to get her to leave, but Kel had retaliated by working twice as hard as any of the boys, and that determination had showed. She had completed her fourth year exams without fault. Now Kel was a newly fledged squire, only one step away from becoming knighted. She would not lightly go without good reason.

"Yes my lord," Kel answered steadily.

Lord Wyldon's brow furrowed as he surveyed the girl before him. Keladry was glad she was able to school her face into an unreadable blank. She clasped her hands together lightly, and waited for him to speak again.

"May I ask why?" Lord Wyldon's voice remained as emotionless as ever, the words dropping from his mouth, one by one, in carefully measured tones.

Kel knew this question would come. She had been expecting it, and practiced her rehearsed response over and over again until she could say it without thinking. She swallowed.

"I've had enough," she said quietly. "I want to be like other girls my age. Seeing them, I can't stick fast to becoming a knight, when I've no resolution for it any longer."

Lord Wyldon continued to frown, his eyes narrowed. Kel was good at reading other people, and she was certain Lord Wyldon was trying to read her. She met his gaze squarely. She was stone, her thoughts a calm lake, which no emotion could ruffle.

Lord Wyldon picked up a pewter goblet on his desk and began to toy with the the carving around the rim. Kel continued to look back at him, unmoving. Lord Wyldon set the goblet down abruptly, and cleared his throat.

"Mindelan, I will not pretend," he said slowly. "You would have found the next four years very difficult." The words dropped reluctantly from his mouth as usual. He regarded her steadily again, but there was no malice in his expression. Kel thought there was even something like pity in his eyes. Her cheeks flushed slightly at that. Kel didn't want Lord Wyldon, of all men, to feel sorry for her.

"We will be sorry to see you leave, Kelady of Mindelan," Lord Wyldon said finally. His voice was surprisingly gentle. "You have been a credit to your training."

"Thank you, Lord Wyldon," Kel said. Her voice sounded hollow and strange, as if it was coming from the bottom of a deep tunnel. Kel fiercely clamped down on the words that wanted to creep out, saying that she had changed her mind. She reminded herself harshly that it was too late. Bowing to her former training master, Kel walked out of his office for the last time.

A lanky figure was leaning restlessly against the wall, as Kelady came out of Lord Wyldon's office. He leapt up as soon as he saw Kel, his hands jerkily mussing his already untidy light brown hair, which stuck up in almost every direction. Kel was momentarily startled. She had hoped to leave the palace without anybody noticing until after she had gone. She hoped it would make her departure easier to bear. Nealan of Queenscove was her best friend, her page sponsor from her first year. She hadn't even told him. Somehow Neal had found out anyway.

"Kel?" Neal demanded, striding towards her.

Kel didn't want to talk to Neal so close to Lord Wyldon's office. She started to walk quickly down the corridor, Neal keeping pace with her easily, one stride of his matching two of hers. When they were safely out of distance, Neal grabbed Kel's arm, and planted himself squarely in front of her. He stared down at her, his slanted green eyes bright with worry. Kel knotted her fingers together, and looked down at the scuffed caps of her boots. She didn't know what to say to him.

"What in Mithros' name is going on?" Neal hissed. "You've been acting oddly all week. Then I go to your room and see it's stripped bare, you've come out of an unexplained meeting with the Stump, and you've got an escort of outriders from Mindelan waiting for you outside! If I didn't know you better-" Neal stared at her with startling intensity. "Kel, is the Stump making you leave?"

Kel looked up at the stricken expression on her friend's face. Her heart ached for him. What could she say? She couldn't tell him the truth. Conal had sworn her to secrecy. It had been easy to let Lord Wyldon think she was weak. He was a man who already thought girls were too fragile to be anything other than decorative. Neal though, he was her best friend. He had supported her for four years. How could she let him think she was simply giving up?

"Neal-" she started, then faltered, the words trapped by the lump in her throat. She couldn't let the blame for this fall on Lord Wyldon. He had never wanted her there, but he was an honourable man. Kel shook her head, then looked down at her scuffed boots as if they were the most interesting objects in the world. She bit her lip to stop herself from starting to cry.

"Kel," Neal said sharply. "What's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Kel shook her head, her eyes prickling. She suddenly felt very tired, and a lot older than her years. She had sworn not to breathe a word to anyone, not even her best friend, who now stood before her, his face both worried, and frustrated.

"Kel," Neal said warningly, "If this is your idea of a joke, it isn't funny. At all."

Kel shook her head again. Everything felt heavy and inexplicably complicated. She had promised not to say anything. She looked at him pleadingly, her throat hurting. Neal's mouth was set, his gift starting to crackle around the tips of his fingers. He looked more upset than she had ever seen him before.

Kel knew that it wouldn't work. Neal was too prone to dramatics, quickly jumping to the worst conclusion. He probably thought her refusal to explain was a worse betrayal than her actual departure.

"Let me be," Kel whispered, her lips dry.

Neal stared at her, the edges of his mouth turning white. The silence drew out in one horrible final wait. Kel's heart thudded in her chest, her eyes tight with unshed tears, her throat constricting with the ache of honour, and promises that could not be broken.

Then, as if a spell had been broken, Neal suddenly let go of Kel's arm. He stepped backwards, and jerkily bowed, as if she were a complete stranger.

"Goodbye my lady," he said, his voice strangely cold in its formality. "I hope you make future friends that value you as much as the ones you've left behind."

Neal's long stride carried him quickly down the corridor. Kel watched him go, until he finally vanished around a corner. She wanted to chase after him, desperately to explain, but Conal had held her to silence, and Keladry of Mindelan did not break her word. She had to leave. Her quest for knighthood had come to an end.