A/N: This story is a part of a series being written by the Jane and the Dragon fanfiction. A complete list of stories can be found in my profile. Now with hyperlinks!

What do you call a sweaty queen? A reigning monarch!

It was far too warm for the queen's Northern sensibilities.

The gentle breezes of the last few days had finally blown themselves out, leaving the air in the castle stale.

Perched stiffly on a settee in her sitting room, a creative set of names for certain, Queen Gwendolyn labored over yet another hoop of despised needle work. Why was it ladies were supposed to be talented at this? It was most tedious.

Well, appearances must be upheld. If pointed needles and pricked fingers were the price of her station, she would soldier on.

Still, the queen's fortitude did nothing to improve her mood. Needlework, and the other gilded, monotonous trappings of lady-dom, were tiresome.

While spacious enough, the tower room was terribly stuffy. Did they not have windows? What good was it to be queen, if no one bothered to throw open the shutters to welcome in the cool air?

Soon I will be perspiring.

The queen hated to perspire. Well, not the act of sweating within itself. Usually when one found themselves moist from exertion it was because of some pleasurable diversion. Playing with the children, riding, strolling through the forest ...other activities. She suppressed a smile.

But perspiring while sitting still? No, thank you. That was a waste of her most precious limited time.

It was difficult to rid one's self of sweat, when removing the day's gown required three additional people. Unless she had a formal appearance to make, Gwendolyn would have to endure.

In a valiant attempt to focus on the task at hand, the queen schooled her features into a passably pleasant expression. She squinted at the sickly flowers which spawned from her uneven stitches. Artiste, she was not.

Lady Turnkey sat beside her, blithely adding a long row of vining leaves to a length of ribbon. The leaves were neatly done in a brisk and efficient manner.

Much like the lady herself.

Ah, how she liked the dear Adeline. Loved, perhaps. Shrewdly astute, keen wit, trustworthy and loyal… and sometimes, shockingly obtuse. Dear lord, how could anyone with such a sharp eye be so blind?

How she wished she could confide in her friend, to be true companions with open, shared hearts.

It saddened her a little, but it was an old wound. Trust was not something the queen could afford.

Gwyndolyn smiled at her friend, glad for their respite. She'd have a moment to speak with her Lady in Waiting in private, without the listening ears of the sycophantic lesser nobles. The queen could not allow Lady Turnkey, her one and only friend, to marry off her daughter to that horrible young whelp. To do so would surely end in tears.

Oh, but this heat.

Would this summer never end?

Enough.

If anything the warm weather was a blessing. While the nobility from the far-flung corners of Kippernia had departed soon after the ball, others had lingered in hopes for more comfortable travel. It was not to be. Wagon by wagon, tent by tent, the set resigned themselves to a long, torrid trek home.

All except for King Robert and his retinue. They seemed comfortable enough to set up permanent residency, it seemed.

The king and that dreadful Algernon.

Algernon. He was a threat. Not just to Gwendolyn's favored squire, but to anyone who might cross him. Gwyndolyn wondered if King Robert was aware of the viper in his midst. Was Algernon a tool of the regent, or was it the other way around?

It did not matter.

Gwendolyn wanted him gone.

Guilt roiled in her gut.

If only she had not given Lady Turnkey that damnable dress.

If only Lady Turnkey was not so ambitious.

If only Jane were ugly.

If only, if only...

Well, recriminations would not help her now.

The queen was not one for grousing. Look forward. Identify threats. Recognize solutions. Plan. Take action. Her father's words echoed.

Queen Gwendolyn had not acheived her regency with complaints.

No.

The queen shuddered. Thankfully, Adeline was focused on her task and did not notice.

The mere notion the treacherous Algernon might be able to get a foothold in Kippernium was enough to make her nauseous. Monied, landed, supported by men whose loyalty lay elsewhere, a supposed alliance with Algernon could put the kingdom in peril.

Put her own children in peril.

Or, perhaps not. Maybe he was just a spoiled brat, given a toy only to break, handed every desire to discard. A man-child who was never told no, and was thus unable to manage his own disappointment.

The queen had doubts.

The golden Algernon was a threat. A dark star hidden behind a false dazzle of charm.

Gwyndolyn would not turn her face away.

She would take action.

Well, what little action she could, constrained as she was by her position.

Stretching slightly, the queen feigned a yawn.

"The ball went delightfully well, don't you think Lady Turnkey?" A quick expression of disappointment crossed Adeline's features. No doubt she was thinking of Jane's supposed excess. Not that anyone thought dared consider such a thing. Queen Gwyndolyn herself had made Jane's excuses.

No one gainsaid the queen. Certainly not the odious Algernon.

Beloved, indeed!

Catching herself in a frown, the Lady in Waiting smiled politely.

"Of course, Your Majesty. The entertainment was enjoyable, the food superb, the decorations inspired. I heard nothing but favorable compliments. Truly, your balls sparkle with life, and are the envy of all."

Genuine peals of laughter fell from the queen's lips.

"What high accolades, dearest! How proud you must be, seeing as how you did most of the work." Lady Turnkey blushed a bright unattractive red.

Real modesty? It warmed Gwendolyn's heart. How wonderfully fetching!

"Your Majesty, I only followed your instructions!" Adeline demurred. "The honor belongs to you."

"Hardly." Her previous warmth faded. The queen struggled to hide her annoyance. She did not need another toady. It was why she was so fond of her Lady Turnkey. Her Adeline. Her often accidental outspokenness was part of her charm.

It was also rather useful.

"If anyone deserves praise, it is you," Adeline opened her mouth to protest, but the queen cut her off. "However if you persist in denying it, let us share the acclaim. We are allies, are we not?"

Adeline's chest nearly doubled with puffed-up pride. They resumed their stitching.

"How did our dear Jane do? She certainly looked lovely. Her hair was an absolute masterpiece, but you have always been such an virtuoso with hair."

Spurred on by the compliments, Adeline beamed with pride.

"Jane did quite well, My Queen! She had several offers from the younger set -which I declined of course- and then a very generous offer from King Robert's man, Lord Algernon."

Venomous sea serpent.

"Glorious! You must be delighted. I knew she would make us all proud." Adeline nearly glowed. Gwendolyn almost felt bad for her next words. "Just imagine how well she will do when you and the Lord Chamberlain are ready for her to marry!"

There was a beat of silence.

"Ma'am?" Adeline's confusion was unmistakable.

"Yes, with such a successful first showing, she'll no doubt be in high demand. Imagine the offers she'll receive once she is Knighted! What a prize she will be then." Gwendolyn pressed on. "Sponsored by myself and my husband, favored by the princess. I daresay you'll have nothing but titled men laying offers at her feet. None of those second or third-son proposals."

"But...but," Adeline's eyes had lost their focus. "What about Lord Algernon? Should she not accept his suit?"

The queen pretended to consider the question.

"Well, perhaps. If you think it best. Though I dare say she could do much better. An unknown noble from a distant land? Lord Algernon is not a duke or marquess, is he?" Adeline shook her head. "Well then, I think you sell your lovely daughter short. Jane could easily do better. Do you not think so?" Adeline visibly deflated.

After a moment of thought, the Lady in Waiting nodded mutely.

The queen pushed her needle through the muslin. Another diseased flower blundered into life. No matter. She was the queen. Everyone would fawn over her terrible stitching. What ridiculousness. They sat in strained silence for a few moments.

"Would you not miss her greatly?" Gwendolyn asked. "I know I would miss young Lavinia terribly. How would you visit her? Would you and the Lord Chamberlain leave us to live with her and her new husband?" Her eyes widened in sudden horrified surprise, as though the thought had just occurred to her. "That would be a tragedy indeed."

Gwyndolyn gazed sadly at her companion, as if already mourning her loss. "I know it is selfish, but I would feel the loss of your company, most dreadfully."

"I.. I had not considered such, Your Majesty." Adeline, her dear Adeline, clearly had not considered much at all.

If she had, she might have been able to formulate an argument.

The queen was marvelously, immensely, genuinely grateful for her companion's blessed predictability. Focused entirely on her objective, she had forgotten to consider the consequences of her machinations.

The queen had confidence she would overwhelm Lady Turnkey's defenses with a pointed attack.

"Jane is so full of life." Gwendolyn's voice was sincere. After all, she was fond of Jane. "She has always been a blessing on this castle. The king and I owe her much- the life of my cherished Cuthbert, for one. It would be a shame to lose her so soon."

Lady Turnkey had no response. A small bead of sweat trickled down her neck. It was hot in here, wasn't it?

It was difficult not to laugh at Adeline's discomfiture.

"If you do decide to accept the young Algernon's suit," she continued, "I do hope you give it careful consideration. A long engagement would be difficult to break, and would remove her from the minds of more attractive possibilities."

After a few minutes of terse silence, Gwendolyn became concerned. Adeline had hardly blinked, let alone formulated a response. Perhaps the queen had said too much?

"Lady Turnkey?" She scooted closer. "Adeline, are you quite all right? I hope I have not offended..."

"Yes!" The queen started at the sudden response. "Yes! Yes, of course, I was just considering all of what you said." Adeline seemed muddled. "I had been so excited at her success that I had forgotten to consider there may be other options."

Of course she had not. Lovely Adeline.

Her hands worried the ribbon in her lap. "I will have to take your words under advisement, My Queen. I wonder if I have been hasty in my enthusiasm."

SUCCESS!

Well, almost. Victory was at least on the horizon.

Not wanting to push the subject much further, lest it seem like her interest was more than friendly, Gwendolyn returned to her stitching. She hoped Lady Turnkey would come to a desirable conclusion. It would not do the expressly forbid the unwanted match.

She preferred not to command her friends.

Nevertheless, if pressed, she would.

The next morning found them in the garden, stitching, always the horrendous stitching, while the children play.

"Your Majesty?" Lady Turnkey began. "About our conversation yesterday."

Gwendolyn donned a polite mask of interest.

"After discussing it with the Lord Chamberlain, we find you are quite right. Of course we shall reject Algernon's suit. You had the truth of it. It makes no sense to rush into any decisions right now. Jane is young, and has much to accomplish." Gwendolyn wanted to crow.

She did not.

Queens do not crow.

She instead settled on pleasantly delighted.

"If Lord Algernon is still intrigued when Jane is knighted, as he has often said, he will make his interest known then." Lady Turnkey continued. Her beloved, predictable friend was again confident in her decision. "We would be happy to accept his suit when we feel Jane is ready for marriage."

Not if I have any sway.

The queen beamed at her friend in honest joy. Yes, her scheming had ended in triumph, but she was so very relieved.

Jane would be spared. The kingdom would remain protected. That vile Algernon would be sent packing.

"Magnificent! Hopefully the fair Algernon will not be too disappointed. A good match is worth waiting for. Jane will make a lovely bride, after she has earned her Knighthood."

Lecherous wretch.

Now, to ensure she does not change her mind.

"In the meantime," ventured the queen. Careful now. "I have a favor to ask."

"Your Majesty?" Adeline's brow creased with concern. "You know I would be happy to fulfill any command."

"Nonsense. This is not a command, but a request. No, it is a favor, one that I am most reluctant to beg. Please do not mistake what I am about to ask as anything but a simple request between friends." The queen set her down her sewing and leaned forward, clasping Adeline's hand in her own.

"We have been friends for such a long time, and you have always been my closest confidant. I do not know what I would have done without your friendship throughout these long years." Gwendolyn smiled placidly. Lady Turnkey smiled back. She looked a bit frightened.

"I should like it very much if you and the Lord Chamberlain would consider allowing your Jane to instruct my Lavinia in swordsmanship."

If Lady Turnkey could look any more shocked, Gwendolyn would eat her own veil.

"You want," Adeline blinked several times in rapid succession, "You want, what?"

"I know it is much to ask, my dear. But it would mean so much to me." Gwendolyn pulled the other woman's hands into her lap, squeezing them with what she hoped was ardent desire. "The women in my kingdom of birth are trained at a young age in the defensive arts. Sword, bow, horsemanship." She waved her hand dismissively. "Sadly, my skills were never so developed as my sisters. If I were to take up Lavinia's training, I would surely do her a disservice."

"Jane. You want Jane to train Lavinia?" Adeline's mouth gaped open most unattractively. The queen was forcibly reminded of a large pale carp. Poor, poor, Adeline. How I love you. This is most unfair to her.

"Yes, of course!" The queen continued on. "Who else could I trust with such a task? It would be inappropriate for a male knight to spend so much time alone with the princess. Jane is kind, and honorable, singularly talented when it comes to the sword. She is also so patient with young Lavinia. Just look at how Jane manages Lavinia's tantrums!" Gwendolyn twisted her mouth downwards. She hoped the frown appeared sincere. "I'd be jealous of their closeness if I wasn't so desperately grateful for her gentle finesse."

"Jane? Train Lavinia?"

Heavens, I've broken her.

"Yes, wouldn't it be wonderful? Your family, your Jane, would be instrumental in helping maintain the traditions of my homeland, while upholding the progressive ideals of Kippernium! What could be better?"

Lady Turnkey sat in silence. When she didn't say anything, Gwendolyn released Adeline's hands and sat back.

"Oh dear, I have asked too much, haven't I?" Regret colored her voice. "I do apologize, I should not have brought it up. Of course it is improper to ask so much of our Jane. With her studies, and her duties, and her squire training. I couldn't possibly expect her to have time!"

Gwendolyn let a few teardrops fall. She cried prettily, she knew. It was a practiced skill.

"No, of course not, My Queen!" Lady Turnkey rushed to reassure her. "You would never ask too much. I shall discuss it with my husband, but I doubt Milton will have any objections."

Gwendolyn smiled up at her friend.

"Lovely! What a decidedly spectacular day it has been. I just know Jane is the right choice for such a task. I am most pleased."

Later, while strolling about the battlements, the queen had the singular pleasure of watching Lady Turnkey corral her daughter in the garden.

Jane looked tense, defeated. She almost cringed with fear at her mother's approach.

Then, like the sun breaking slowly climbing to the dawn, a smile lit up her face.

With a most unlady-like Whoop! and jump in the air, Jane Turnkey hugged her mother and sprinted off to destinations unknown.

Hiding her smile, Queen Gwendolyn continued onward.