"She had no choice," Jet muttered.

Gajeel slanted Pantherlilly a wry glance. It was the truth and they both knew it. But for some reason, this morning, Gajeel discovered that he did not particularly like hearing it voiced aloud.

"Whatever the reasons," Pantherlilly said, "it would seem that even Lady Levy has some use for a man who can use a sword."

Happy took another bite of pie. "My mother says that Lady Levy always puts her duty to her people ahead of all else."

"'Tis a great pity that Lady Levy must sacrifice herself for the rest of us," Jet said defiantly. "'Tis not right."

"Enough," Gajeel said quietly. "What's done is done. It only remains for me to earn my keep. And I intend to do just that."

Jet scowled warily. "What do you mean?"

"As I said, the defense of these lands requires that every able-bodied man in the household be properly trained."

Happy munched his pie. "There aren't any able-bodied men in this household other than yourself and your men-at-arms, my lord."

"You look fit enough, Happy," Gajeel said. "And you are, what? Ten years old?"

"Aye."

"Then 'tis past time you began a knight's training. When I was your age, I was already practicing regularly with lance and sword."

"Me? A knight?" Happy sucked in air and promptly choked on a mouthful of meat pie. "Nay, my lord. 'Tis not possible." He succumbed to a fit of coughing.

Natsu strolled across the room and slapped Happy between the shoulder blades. "The first thing a future knight must learn is how to eat without strangling himself."

Happy's eyes watered. He sputtered, recovered, and managed to swallow the pie. He drew in several gasping breaths. "Lady Levy and my mother will never allow me to train to be a knight."

"Why not?" Gajeel asked.

"I'm delicate."

Jet glowered at Gajeel. "That's right. They'll never allow young Happy to practice such skills."

"Lady Levy and Lady Lucy need not concern themselves with Happy's training. Such matters are my responsibility." Gajeel eyed Jet. "What about you, minstrel? How far did your training progress?"

"Huh?"

"Did you learn any useful skills before you took up the harp and began composing irritating ballads about young knights who cuckold their lords?"

Jet looked seriously alarmed. "My former master was a scholar."

"A scholar?"

"Aye." Jet's eyes shifted uneasily as though he were searching for a place to hide. "He raised me to assist him with his studies."

"Was he a trained knight?" Gajeel asked.

"Aye, a very great knight. He even went on Crusade. But he said there was no point teaching me knightly skills," Jet's lips trembled. "He said I was a clumsy weakling who could not be taught such things."

"You were raised in a scholar's household?"

"Aye." Jet wiped his sweating brow on the back of his sleeve.

"Your father sent you to live in this scholar's hall?" Gajeel probed.

"My father does not even know that I exist." Jet jerked his arm back down to his side. "I don't know his name. I am a bastard, sir."

Gajeel met Jet's fierce, anguished gaze and knew the depths of the younger man's fear as well as his rage. "It would seem that you and I have something in common, minstrel."

Jet clearly did not want to hear that. "At least you know your father's name. Metalicana of Landry is a great lord. I know nothing of the man who sired me except that he was a knight on his way to a tourney. He found my mother alone in a field. He raped her and left her pregnant with me. He went on his way and never came back for either of us."

"You are not the only product of such an unpleasant union," Gajeel said. "You must find your own way in the world. At least you will have the satisfaction of knowing that everything you achieve will be won by your own hand. You may well discover that it is useful for a bastard to be able to handle a sword."

"I intend to make my living as a minstrel, or mayhap as a scholar," Jet retorted. "I do not wish to make a career of splitting skulls or fighting other men's battles."

Gajeel caught Pantherlilly's eye. "It would seem that my lady's poor opinion of fighting men has infected the entire household."

Pantherlilly's smile came and went. "Aye."

"We must see if we can change her mind."

"I'm sure you will find a way to prove yourself useful," Natsu said. "You always do."

Gajeel returned his attention to Jet. "Was your mother the one who arranged for you to be fostered in the house of this scholar you mentioned?"

Jet shook his head. The hunted look reappeared in his eyes. "My mother loved me. She would never have sent me away. But she died when I was eight. Soon afterward my aunt sold me to my master. I mean, my former master."

Gajeel frowned. "She sold you to him?"

"Aye." Jet's mouth tightened. "He gave her several cold coins in exchange for me. He wanted a healthy, intelligent lad, he said. One who could be trained to be his assistant."

"This scholar …" Gajeel said slowly, "he was a harsh master?"

Jet flinched as if he had been struck by a whip. "He does not—I mean, he did not tolerate any mistakes."

"Are you here on Desire because you have run away from his household?" Gajeel asked quietly.

"Nay" Jet looked terrified now. "Nay, I did not run away. I always obeyed my lord's commands." There was a glazed expression in his eyes. "Always. But he was never satisfied. Never. I could not please him, although I tried my best. No matter what I did, I could not please him"

Happy touched Jet's arm in an awkward gesture. "Remember what Lady Levy said, Jet."

"Aye." Jet drew several deep breaths. His eyes refocused.

"What did Lady Levy say?" Gajeel asked.

Jet scowled. The fear in his eyes was gone. "'Tis not important."

"She said Jet was to remember that he was safe now," Happy explained. "When Jet first came here, he could not sleep at all at night and he was very anxious."

"That is not true," Jet hissed.

"Aye, 'tis true." Happy turned back to Gajeel. "Poor Jet was always jumping at the smallest sounds. I came around the corner once and surprised him in the hall outside Levy's study and he nearly fainted. Is that not so, Jet?"

"Say no more." Jet whirled furiously on Happy. "That is enough. My health is no concern of Lord Gajeel's."

"But it is my concern," Gajeel said. "As is the state of the health of every man under my command. Only men in good health can carry out their duties properly."

"My health is excellent." Jet raised his chin in open defiance. "And I am not under your command."

"Aye, but you are, as is Happy." Gajeel straightened away from the table. "The first thing we must do is see to your training. Pantherlilly, take both of these future knights downstairs to the courtyard and get them started in their careers. Happy and Jet are to begin practicing with arms immediately."

"Aye, my lord," Pantherlilly said. He grinned at Happy. "Are you ready, lad?"

Happy looked dazzled. "I am to learn how to use a sword?"

"That you are." Pantherlilly strode across the room and ruffled Happy's hair. "And how to care for armor and a good war-horse and how to defend your hall. Do you think you will enjoy learning all that?"

"Aye." Happy looked up at him with glowing eyes. "I shall enjoy that very much."

"Come along, then." Pantherlilly glanced at Jet. "You, too, minstrel."

"Nay, you cannot force us to learn such things." Jet turned a desperate gaze on Gajeel. "Lady Levy will never permit it."

Some of the enthusiasm faded from Happy's eyes. "He's right, my lord. Lady Levy will never allow us to begin a knight's training."

"Lady Levy wanted a husband who could see to the defense of her isle," Gajeel said. "She has got one who can do that. I trust that she has sense enough to allow me to get on with the task."

"Levy, are you truly all right?" Lucy looked up from the bunch of lavender and mint that she was binding with a cord.

"Of course I'm all right." Levy stood on tiptoe to hang another fresh bouquet upside down from the overhead drying rack.

The long shed where she and Lucy were working was one of a series of workrooms built against the curtain wall. It was filled with bunches of flowers and herbs in various stages of preparation. Many, such as the lavender and mint, were being allowed to dry. When the process was complete, they would be carefully composed into perfumes according to Levy's recipes.

Some of the complex mixtures made from dried flowers and herbs would be used to fill sweet bags for linen chests. Others would go into small, lidded pots designed to add a pleasant fragrance to chambers. Still others would be combined with oil and honey to create lush perfumes, lotions, and balms.

Levy loved the drying shed. She often walked through it as she did through her garden, delighting in one scent after another. She liked to close her eyes in the midst of the fragrant blossoms and create perfumes in her mind the way Jet created ballads.

There was a very large bin at the far end of the shed where the dried blossoms and leaves were combined in huge batches. There they were mixed according to Levy's specifications.

Today the bin was heaped full of dried petals from early roses, mugwort, lavender, mint, and rosemary. Levy was still fussing with the concoction, deliberating whether to add cinnamon oil or oil of cloves to fix the scent.

Once she had made her decision, the dried materials would be stuffed into hundreds of small, exquisitely embroidered bags. The sweet bags would be taken to the spring fair in Seabern in a few days, along with the new batch of soaps that was being readied. There they would be sold to eager merchants.

"I have been concerned about you," Lucy said.

"Why?" Levy slung another bunch of lavender onto a drying rack hook.

"There has been gossip all morning in the hall. By now it has no doubt reached the village."

"I am well aware that everyone is overly curious to know the details of my wedding night," Levy muttered, "but I have no intention of discussing it. Some matters are private between husband and wife."

"Levy, you must know that it is not normal for a husband to appear wearing a large white bandage the morning after his wedding." Lucy threw her an exasperated glance. "What really happened last night?"

"'Twas an accident."

"Did you actually use the Hellhound's dagger in an attempt to defend yourself from his embrace?"

"Nay, I most certainly did not. Is that what the gossips are saying?" Levy demanded.

"Aye." Lucy sighed. "I knew you were not looking forward to the duties of a wife, but I did not believe you would do something so outrageous as to stab your husband on your wedding night. How did you dare?"

"I didn't."

"Lord Gajeel must have been furious with you." Lucy shuddered. "'Tis a wonder he did not beat you." She frowned in sudden alarm. "Or did he?"

"Do not be ridiculous, Lucy. Do I appear to have been beaten?"

"Nay."

"Do you think that I would tolerate such treatment?"

"Nay, but he is a very large man, Levy. Much bigger than you."

"Do not forget that I have successfully defended myself against large men in the past."

"Aye, but Lord Gajeel is not a fool like Sir Laxus."

"A fact for which I am extremely grateful." Levy glanced over her shoulder. "Lucy, I did not use my husband's dagger against him last night. There was no need. Sir Gajeel behaved himself in a most chivalrous fashion."

Levy felt herself grow warm at the memory of how Gajeel had cut his own arm in order to protect her from humiliation and gossip. No man had ever done anything so chivalrous for her, not even Raymond de Coleville.

It was unfair that Gajeel had become the object of so much sly speculation and rumor today. After his noble actions, he deserved better. Unfortunately, there was no way to explain that to Lucy.

"A juggling accident," Lucy murmured.

"Aye."

"Forgive me, but that is difficult to believe, Levy."

"Ask Lord Gajeel yourself, if you do not believe me."

"You know very well that I could never do such a thing. If I did, he would no doubt merely confirm your version of the tale, just as you are confirming his. For some reason the two of you appear to be as one on this matter."

Lucy was right, Levy thought. More right than Levy had even realized until this moment. Somehow, whether he had intended to do so or not, Gajeel had succeeded in binding Levy to him in a wholly unexpected fashion.

Together they shared a secret. A most intimate secret. A secret that, in its own way, was as intimate as the manner in which Gajeel had touched her last night.

Levy stilled, one hand frozen around a bundle of lavender and roses. She gazed unseeing at the rows of flowers and herbs hung from the ceiling.

It occurred to her that Gajeel had no doubt known exactly what he was doing when he had slashed his arm for her. He had likely foreseen everything, including the way in which it would affect her feelings toward him.

He was very good at making carefully calculated gestures, Levy reminded herself. But even allowing for that, this particular gesture had been undeniably gallant. Moreover, it was a gesture that he could not have planned, she thought. Gajeel had had no way of knowing about the vials of chicken blood she had been given on her wedding day. He'd come to the bridal bed equipped with his own supply.

Another calculated gesture. And one that had most definitely been well planned.

Whose honor had he really been concerned with last night? Levy wondered. Hers or his own? She still knew very little about the Hellhound.

"By Mavis's nose," she muttered. It was all dangerously confusing.

Lucy glanced out the open door of the drying shed. "Oh, there is Happy. Heading for the stables, I believe. I vow, he is spending far too much time with Lord Gajeel's men, Levy. It worries me."

"I know, Lucy, but I do not think there is any great harm in it."

"Jet and Droy are with him. I wonder what they are about?"

"I have no notion."

"Dear God" Lucy tossed aside the lavender and leaped to her feet.

"Lucy, what wrong?"

"Sir Natsu and Pantherlilly have given Happy, Droy and Jet shields." Lucy stood in the doorway, her hand at her throat. "And wooden swords. Levy, I believe that they are going to give them instruction in swordplay."

"Calm yourself, Lucy. Pantherlilly and Natsu are likely just showing them some of the equipment. You know Happy is very curious about such matters."

"Well, your minstrel is not, but he's out there, too."

"Really?" Levy brushed her hands and walked toward the door of the shed. She peered out into the sunlit yard.

There was no doubt about what was happening. Happy, Droy, and Jet stood awkwardly clutching wooden shields and swords. Happy looked excited. Droy looked scared. Jet looked angry and resentful.

Levy saw Gajeel stroll out of the hall onto the steps to watch the lesson.

Natsu raised his shield and spoke to Happy, who eagerly hefted his wooden blade and delivered a fierce blow to Natsu's shield.

Lucy shrieked. She spun about and gave Levy a stricken look. "'Tis obvious Lord Gajeel has ordered Happy and Jet to be trained with arms. You must stop this at once, Levy, I beg of you."

"I do not think it will do any great harm, Lucy."

"My son is much too delicate for such training. You must stop this at once."

"Uh—"

"Levy, do something. You are the lady of this hall. Tell them to cease this dangerous nonsense."

Levy glanced at Gajeel. She had an unpleasant suspicion that the whole situation was out of her hands.

It was that realization which abruptly strengthened her resolve. She was mistress of Desire, she reminded herself. She gave the commands here.

"I shall speak to Natsu and Sir Pantherlilly at once." Levy picked up the skirts of her gown and strode purposefully out into the courtyard.

"Lady Levy, I would speak with you," Gajeel said as Levy strode swiftly past the hall steps.

His voice was pitched low, meant for her ears alone, but it carried the weight of command.

Levy pretended that she had not heard him. She did not dare turn her head to glance at him. It would be easier to ignore Gajeel if she did not appear to notice him standing there on the steps.

"Pray, madam, a word with you." There was a slight but very distinct edge in Gajeel's voice this time.

Levy's fingers tightened in the folds of her skirt, but she resisted the almost overpowering inclination to obey the soft summons.

"Hell's teeth. I knew you were going to make this difficult." Gajeel started down the steps.

Levy ignored him. This was her hall and she was in charge. She had no intention of allowing Gajeel to take control. At that moment, however, she comprehended precisely how he had become successful as a leader of men. There was an inborn authority in his voice that would give anyone pause.

Anyone, that is, save another who was also accustomed to command.

"Natsu." Levy smiled coolly as Natsu turned his head. "What is going on here?"