Yes, there was a reason she was accepted so easily. It shall be explained later. Somebody asked if Gintra was s beautiful, then why did Maggur want mistresses. Catherine of Aragon was beautiful, if older than King Henry, but he still had mistresses. Blah. He had nine wives, or something around there. Blah.

Disclaimer: What the hell do you think??

Oh, and some of this may be borrowed from England's history. I do love the suspense of the English ancestry.

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A ball was held that very night Keladry arrived, but she did not attend. Instead, she grabbed the opportunity to observe the grand gala, hidden behind a tapestry, which concealed a secreted corridor, probably used by servants, or else long forgotten.

Most of the noble women were the pallid, blond color typical of Scanrans, although she did spot the occasional redhead and brunette, but even they had blond in their locks and from what she could gather, were blue-eyed. All of them supported hair nets that bound their hair. They wore light-colored gowns, modestly high at the bosom. It was a fashion distastefully looked down on in Tortall, but apparently fashionable here.

She looked nothing like them, and she was not sure that was a good thing.

King Jonathan had forced her to change her appearance in hopes she would blend in more. His attempt failed utterly, for she could not blend in more if she had burst into the ballroom right then singing a bawdy bar song while wearing a pink top hat. Her hair had been dyed black with permanent magic color, her eyes bewitched into a black-brown. Whereas they were small and delicate, she towered over them with her height and muscular build.

The Scanran queen looked irritated and tired. The probable cause was the youthful, sweet-faced blond perched petulantly on the king's knee. When Kel first met them, in their chambers, she could tell there was no lost love between them. But to go so far as to publicly humiliate Gintra - that was low.

Kel spotted something, then, that made her frown. A blond child, somewhere around ten, perhaps,, stood between them, smiling dutifully at nobles as they passed. She wore upon her golden head a tiny, unimpressive crown - but it was a crown, nonetheless, and the mark of a royal child.

Nothing was said of an heir. No one in Tortall had ever mentioned a princess. Perhaps she was the result of a previous marriage with another man and Gintra, or an illegitimate child of Maggur and a mistress? She could not tell whose she was, for her yellow hair could have been inherited from either parent, and she was too far away to observe her appearance. She may not even be directly related to them, perhaps a distant cousin of one. She shook her head; it was something to ponder later.

How was she to become Maggur's…mistress? Many of the women here were twice as appealing. They threw themselves upon the king with a passion Kel knew she could never do. The only thing she could think of that would catch his eye would be to stand out. Be uninterested in him…do everything against the Scanran nature.

For now, she must gather all the information she could before she made an entrance at court. And she knew exactly how to do it.

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Illuvia of Snowsdale was not beautiful, but one very rarely realized that when caught up in her charm as the guards were. Never before had she been given this much attention as these men did. For some reason, their doting adoration presented to her with a kind of glorious triumph. She found she enjoyed dark-haired, blue-eyed Varien of Rishkasorv the most.

Varien himself was most enchanted by this lady. He noticed she was not beautiful at all - but she was such a pleasant relief from all the pale-skinned noble women belonging to Court. Her thick black curls cascaded around her shoulders in an unbound mass, a bold gesture as opposed to the submissive hair nets. Her eyes shone like polished dark stones. She was dark, a tan color that almost made Varien think she worked out in the fields, as did her callused hands - but he knew this woman who fluttered her sooty lashes so demurely at him could not work outside. Her complexion must be natural, her hands due to chores. She was tall and strong.

He took pride in the fact she paid more attention to him than the other guards. She told him she liked him better with her fluttery hands, a simple touch…he burned for her.

"I saw a child with their good majesties while I was passing by the ballroom," Illuvia murmured, spreading her black skirts around her as she settled down on the warm grass. "In Galla, we get most every news. But I never heard of her…Do tell me who she is."

Varien could not refuse her request, but that oaf Brennan answered first, and he felt a pang of hate when he did so and her attention was drawn from him.

"Her name is Selene. She's the king's child," Brennan said eagerly, nudging Varien out of the way to fold himself neatly beside her. "She's nine."

"The king was married before he took with the queen," Edwin interrupted, settling in front of her. "Her name was Selene, also, and she died during birth. As of now, she is the only heir."

"A selfish brat," one man muttered, named Frejo of Rash-something. "She's a bitch, and I'm not sorry for saying so."

"Everyone knows what the king really wants is a son," Varien said, plopping down gracelessly beside her, absently taking her hand in his. He was acutely aware of the resentful stares he received because of it, and he grinned wickedly at them.

"A son," Illuvia murmured, tapping her full red mouth thoughtfully. Varien stared at it, captivated. "Why?"

"Because males are regarded higher than females, of course," he said, astonished. "And they should be."

For some reason, she took offense to this and turned from him, withdrawing her hand from his caress. He frowned as she focused her attention on Edwin, changing the subject and asking a trivial question.

Varien gritted his teeth. Of all the pretty ladies that threw themselves at him, none had him so enamored as did this dark sorceress. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make her his.

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Gintra brushed her long silky hair with rough, brisk strokes. Her golden eyes fairly sparked with anger. The image of Lady Jerlyn, sitting on top Maggur's - her husband! - knee like she had every right to do so. She remembered the way Jery had sent her snide smiles, her blue eyes wickedly triumphant. After the ball, when Gintra had spotted Jery and Maggur sneaking away stealthily to her rooms, where they no doubt still were, she had beckoned for the younger woman.

She grinned coldly as she remembered the conversation.

"What do you want?" Jerlyn asked pertly.

Gintra glared. "You are Maggur's new mistress, obviously."

"Yes, obviously, he likes women who are actually good in bed."

"I have a warning for you, Jery," the queen said coldly. "You seem to have forgotten that I am queen. I am above you. If I should wish, you will be hanged. Or tortured, if the notion suits me."

"The king would not let you," the court lady said, though her smug expression faltered into one of fear.

"The king does not control me," Gintra snapped curtly. "Beware, Jery. All his mistresses have been killed - that was not a coincidence."

"They died accidental deaths," Jery whispered, her voice dull.

"Or so you think." The golden woman's lips tilted into a crooked cold smile. "Take heed. Maggur kills them quickly, painlessly, but gorily nonetheless. You are next."

It was not common knowledge that the king killed his former mistresses. Only his close advisors, and his wife, knew it. And, of course, his victims.

That brought thought to the new lady, Illuvia. Gintra had almost immediately liked her. She seemed sincere, and she was not pretty enough to be any threat as a prospective mistress.

Gintra wanted to get to know Illuvia. She wanted to be friends.

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Agh…still short. Oh well. Hope you like the update!