It was nearly midday when she arose, groggy and unsettled in this newer, finer place. Penna was used to her own house, and compared to the Third House of Binlen, they were humble dwellings. This house was obviously built to shock and daunt its occupants, much like the castle she had seen last night.

There were fourteen rooms on each side of the corridor outside her quarters, the walls rising taller than three mountain men. From outside, the house looked to be five or six stories tall, when in fact it was three, with an attic and a basement, where the kitchens and the servants’ quarters were. The pictures on the ceiling made her strain her neck to study them. There were angels flying just above her head in a beautiful evening sky that spanned down the eighty feet of the hallway, ending in a landscape of a lake surrounded by a dark forest, orbs of light winking in the darkness of the trees.

Hanging on the walls, there were oil lamps enclosed by tinted glass that gave the entire room a golden glow, as if the sun had been bottled for indoor keeping. The artisans and architects who had planned this house had been extravagant in the use of their materials and Penna, who had no real experience in art or interior decorating, appreciated their work, from those specialized lamps, to the chapel-like ceiling, to the thick blue carpet beneath her feet. There was even wallpaper on the walls! Most households could not afford the glue it took to paper an entire dwelling. The coin to buy enough resources for the house must have come directly out of the King's purse. Penna looked at it and fingered it, remembering one of the few times her mother had punished her with a switch to the legs, flinching as she remembered the blows. Lady Luella had forbidden her from going on a seaside picnic with her village friends (for ruining her second dress in a month), and as retribution, she pulled every last bit of wallpaper from her walls and threw it into the fireplace.

Penna walked aimlessly for an hour through the house—and saw half of it. Hunger eventually drove her to the kitchens for a late morning tea. The cook was kinder than the fearful Yedda of her childhood, who took to slapping hands that wandered too close to her dishes. This woman simply reached out her hand and declared cheerfully, “I am Sarra and anything you need, I will be happy to provide it.” Penna was permitted to get her own breakfast, taking a strawberry barfruit muffin from a gigantic basket on the counter and the tea kettle from its hot plate. She sipped her tea and examined the kitchen thoroughly as she finished her breakfast.

The amount of food kept in the house was another extravagant feature. The Binlen winters must have been harder than the Aden ones, because not only were there five storage rooms crammed full of salted pork and beef, jars of pickled fruits, canned preserves, and other provisions, but there were at least thirty kitchen maids that she could see well enough to count. They all hurried about their tasks, not appearing to realize that their master was part of a family of four and not a three hundred man army. If any invading force from the north came to take the Third House of the Court of Ilikarr, they had enough resources to outlast a five year siege.

Before coming to the Circle she had been accustomed to luxury; now she knew that she had no idea what luxury was to these people or what amount of wealth the royals were willing to throw around to kept the nobility happy. The entire manor in Aden was a rickety farmhouse compared to this mansion. Her life had been dipped in chocolate and drizzled in caramel; it was sickeningly sweet and she was not sure if she liked what her lifestyle would be while she lived so close to the castle.

Wiping the crumbs from her hands briskly, she handed a maid her teacup and ran off up the flight of stairs. Penna had no desire to inspect the servants’ quarters. She had a feeling that their treatment was far less humane than the treatment of her servants at home. And she was certain it would make her angry, particularly the powerlessness she had in changing anything. Her father did not like to keep those who questioned his authority, be they a footman, a door guard, or a daughter.

She passed the dining hall and through the doorway, perceived her parents in hushed conversation, their mouths grim and indifferent. She lowered her head, the curls of her fringe hiding her eyes, and tried to go by undetected. At the last moment, Lady Luella raised her glance and caught sight of the back of Penna’s ratty dress.

“Penna!” her mother called imperiously. Making her face as obedient as possible, she entered the room, glancing about immediately. Everything about the room was absurdly embellished, down to the last detail. The ceiling rose in a dome, a glass skylight letting in sunshine above the forty foot table and was rimmed with gold-caste figures of celestial women, all buxom and striking. This room meant to impress the occupants and frighten them with its superior taste and elegance; Penna thought it was a rather clever form of coercion.

Her mother smiled at Penna while she examined the new room; it disappeared when Penna said, “Yes, Mother?”

“You promised me you wouldn’t wear that dress after we got here.”

“I was going to go into the stables and I didn’t want to—“

“Penna,” her mother said angrily, “how many times must I tell you? I do not want you running around in those filthy stables any longer, nor do I want you dressing in such tatty castoffs; you are almost eighteen and you have responsibilities!”

“Like what?”

Luella crossed her arms. “Like maintaining a sense of decorum for longer than an hour at a time. Breena has to chase you everywhere to get you to dress like a lady and I won’t have it. You are too old to behave this way and Breena shouldn’t have to work so hard.”

“Don’t bring my relationship with Breena into this. I never cause her more trouble than she knows what to do with. I follow her guidance as best I can.” Penna could see that this was nothing but an exercise of power on behalf of her mother. Her mother was trying to regain the ground she had lost over the summer when Penna had gone practically barefoot through the seaside with common friends, leaving for days at a time and returning only to rest. Elwin had been livid, but he never said anything to Penna directly. Instead, she got to hear the nightly rages of her father through the thin walls of her room.

“Well, your best doesn’t seem to be good enough. I don’t want to see you wear that ever again.”

“Then I won’t!” Penna said loudly. “I didn’t want to ruin any of the precious gowns you bought me, since I’m only here for show. It won’t do if my costumes are dirty, now will it? The Prince won’t want to marry a girl who wears second-hand clothing, because I’m sure what he looks for in a wife is suitable attire.”

“He will be arriving here in an hour specifically to meet you and Eden, and if you think I will allow you to embarrass me with your defiant tendencies, you are sorely mistaken. I want you to go upstairs and change into another gown.”

“I already said that I would, or weren’t you listening?”

A voice calmly said, “Pennamin, don’t talk that way to your mother.”

The room froze and spun all at once.

She turned her eyes—that had suddenly become wet—to the head of the table and stared at her father, mystified. Lord Elwin continued to read his scrolls idly and scratch additions onto them with his quill. It was the only sound in the room for several minutes. When she found her voice, Penna did her best not to project the hurt she felt. He only ever spoke to correct her, never to approve. Perhaps, she thought, it’s because I don’t give him anything to approve of. “Yes, sir. I will do my very best to bend to your benevolent will, in this and in all things.”

Her mother looked repentant. Luella had probably not wanted her husband to interfere; she knew how much humiliation Penna felt whenever he gave her direct orders. “Penna—“

‘Excuse me.” She resisted the urge to slam the door.

Finding her rooms again was a challenge. She knew which floor they were on, but all the doors looked the same, and all the halls did, the same paint on the walls and the same blue carpet blending into the next roll. Eventually she called out Breena’s name and followed the sound of her daymaid’s voice until she saw Breena standing in the hall with her hands on her hips. “We must get you ready.”

“Yes, Breena,” Penna said limply.

Breena seemed hesitant and almost in fear of Penna’s lapse in boundless energy. She took full advantage of it, fitting Penna into a blue and violet dress and pulling the corset strings tighter than Penna had ever allowed her to before. Her hair was brushed and braided and fixed to her head with amethyst pins. Despite the itchy feeling it gave her scalp, Penna did her best not to wiggle or complain. When she was deemed ready and every bow, string, and stitch was in its rightful place, she was permitted to leave.

Her first thoughts were to get out of the house. For such a large place, it was rather silly that she felt like she was suffocating in it.

It took her a quarter of an hour to find the back entrance to the house but as soon as she stepped out the back door, civilization disappeared. This was what she remembered loving about growing up as a country girl. Rolling green fields stretched out in all directions until the forests around encroached on the grounds, trees that appeared to touch the sky. What was out of place about the yard were the two buildings sitting, misplaced eyesores, off on a dirt path that wound left and down a little a hill. Only one of the cottages was in plain sight; the first obstructed the second. She found it curious that there would be any quarters outside at all. That was what the lowest floor was for.

Curiosity overcame her gloominess and she took the dusty path, being careful not to dirty the hem of the gown. As much as she said she did not care what the Prince thought, obtaining his approval could go a long way in getting her mother to stop breathing down her neck.

A garden flourished behind the house and two heads were moving about between the green stalks. The boys they belonged to were identical twins. Penna was fascinated by the exact way they matched each other, down to the last freckle. They did not appreciate her staring.

"What is she wearing?" one of them asked.

"I don't know, but it looks ridiculous. She must be from the castle," the other replied in a nasal tone, a clear mockery of the gentry.

"No, Ansley, she can't be."

"Why not?" The one called Ansley was indignant.

"Well, she's a little short for royalty. Those palace dames are all as tall as aspens and curvier than a back road.'

"I see what you mean, Ackley. Quite a short little thing."

"Short? She's practically a dwarf."

Penna could not help being offended by their assessment, giving a small cluck of annoyance.

"Oh, no, we've made her angry."

"Excuse me?" Penna asked in a clipped voice.

"Yes, milady?" they replied together, removing their sun hats and sweeping her a low bow.

"I was wondering why this house was here."

"Lord, now she's questioning our intentions," said Ackley. Or maybe it was Ansley.

"Boys, what's going on? Lissy called you in ten minutes ag--" A man stepped out onto the stoop. She saw the resemblance between the twins and the man immediately; he didn't look old enough to be their father, so he had to be their older brother despite the difference in build. The twins were weedy.

"Sorry, this pearl girl's been hanging about."

"Hello," the man said amiably. He looked wary of her apparel. "And you are?"

"I'm Pennamin. I live up there," she said, gesturing to the mansion that looked like a mountain of polished stone compared to the tidy, tiny cottage.

"Pennamin?" One of the boys wrinkled their nose in disgust. "And just when I was starting to think she was pretty..."

"Ackley," his older brother said sharply. "Don't mind them," he said to Penna, "they think they're funny." He glared at the boys who were snickering into the tomato plants.

"I was just wondering why you lived here in the middle of the estate. I mean, the servants' quarters are inside--"

"We're not servants," he said flatly.

"No, no, that's--" Penna groaned, her frustration mounting as the laughter of the twins grew louder. Here she was, a person who prided herself on her ability to make conversation without being rude, haughty or embarrassing, and a complete stranger had her flustered. "That's absolutely not what I meant."

“All right,” he said, the once friendly tone becoming combative.

Penna felt terrible. She openly despised elitist snobbery, the example of which was everywhere, and somehow she ended up sounding like a snob even to herself. “I suppose I just thought it was odd that villagers would be living--”

“On your property?”

She could tell she had offended him greatly and Penna wished she knew how to handle a sword, so as to remove her head from her shoulders and prevent herself from saying another stupid thing. “What is your name?”

“It's Drewan.” He turned around to face his brothers in a way that told her their conversation was over.

“It's very nice to meet you,” Penna said nervously. “I apologize if I've offended you. I'm new in these parts and I've honestly no idea what I'm doing here or why I even have to be away from home because a stuffy pompous man couldn't bring himself to find a wife before his parents had to do it for him.”

“You're engaged, Lady Pennamin?” the nicer twin asked.

“Heavens no, and do call me Penna. My mother's a lady but I'd rather be just plain Penna, if you please.”

“Not that plain, Ansley.”

“No, not at all. Well, do come in with us,” Ansley said. “Lissy's made tea. Drewan, she can, can't she?”

“I suppose, if she doesn't deem it beneath her,” he said hesitantly, the hint of a smile around his eyes that let Penna know he was teasing her.

“I—I will, thank you very much.” Ansley opened the gate for her and Ackley quickly took her arm, guiding her carefully into the house and around the muddier spots of the dirt path. They knew how to be gentleman, despite how embarrassing it was to be led through the garden like the delicate prim lady she was supposed to be.

The cottage was charming up close. Hanging vines drooped down from the sturdy roof and she had to sweep them aside as she passed through the door, the boys and their brother looming in a friendly way behind her. Bright light flooded the kitchen Penna was taken into and logs snapped and crackled on the hearth making the room cozy. Mismatched wallpaper had been pasted on the walls and there were black ash stains all over it, parts of it curling off the wall. One huge black mark stretched across the wood floor by the brick fireplace. There was no real door, only a wooden frame with wire on the hinge with curtains that probably kept the worst of the summer rain from ending up on the kitchen floor. It must have been a terrible nuisance in the winter.

A woman, who couldn’t be much older than Eden, was whirling about, setting glasses of something chilled onto the table and a large silver pitcher. She turned around quickly, wiping her hands on her blue apron and then putting them haughtily on her hips. “Well boys, I’ve been waiting for you to grace me with your presence for—oh my, who is this? Drewan?” She looked to her brother for explanation, the apron twisting in her hands nervously.

“Ask the twins, they found her,” he said pleasantly, taking one of the frosty glasses and sitting down at the table in a rickety chair.

“We didn’t find her, she found us!” Ansley exclaimed indignantly. “As if we go about hunting pearl girls when we’re supposed to be working.”

“Yes, well even though she is a right prime example of a pearl girl, Penna’s awful nice and we’d like to keep her, if it’s all the same to you, Lissy,” said Ackley fondly. Penna abstained from rolling her eyes.

“You know I don’t like it when you use that word,” Lissy said crossly. She faced Penna and managed a strained smile. “A pleasure to meet you, um… Penna, is it?”

“Yes,” replied Penna, smiling back as genuinely as she could. “Very nice to meet you, Lissy.”

“Maybe she’ll be able to get you to leave the house,” Drewan muttered, taking another gulp of his drink. Lissy shot him a terrifying glare that stopped the twins’ laughter before it had a chance to start.

“Please, sit down with us,” Lissy said, going to the cupboard to get another glass and, Penna suspected, to hide her red face.

Ansley handed her a glass and she sat down, tasting the caramel colored liquid. She was surprised by the flavor. It danced on her tongue and though she knew it was not wine, it had all the sweetness of a grape, all the mildness of ginger root, and all the richness of a perfectly ripe strawberry. “This is amazing. I’ve never tasted anything like it! What is it?”

“Ginger tea,” Ansley said. “Lissy makes it all summer, but she puts something else in it that makes it so addictive.”

“We’ve tried to figure out what it is,” his twin added. “But so far, all we’ve come up with is a hint of strawberries. She’s a master of herbs and spices and she never shares her secrets.”

“I’m not anywhere near being a master of anything. Now, hush,” Lissy said sharply. “Drink up because as soon as you’re finished, I’m sending you back out to tend to the vegetables.” Ansley stopped guzzling his tea and took a very small sip.

“Aw, that’s cruel. You’re not even making Jeda help us today.”

“She waters them every day, which is more than I can say for the two of you.”

Penna looked at the sulking twins inquisitively. “What is a pearl girl anyway?” she asked. They laughed, shaking their heads with amusement. Lissy frowned at them.

“It’s a term they use for noble women,” answered Lissy. “It refers to wealthy, pretty aristocrats. The village children made it up years ago as their way to quietly mock the gentry women and the way they flirt relentlessly with anything male that breathes nearby.” She looked at Penna, her eyes wide as she realized what she had said. “I mean, that's not to say that—you don't...um.”

“I often feel,” Penna cut in diplomatically, “as though I'm not really a noblewoman.”

Lissy's face twisted in confusion. “But you are, aren't you?”

“By birth, yes, but I simply don't feel like I belong.”

Her words caught Drewan's attention. “So you said. If I may, what is necessary for you to 'belong' in the gentry class?”

“I wish someone would tell me,” Penna replied humorlessly, “because after twelve years of wondering, I haven't got a single clue.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but if being a member of the gentry class is wearing fine clothes, keeping servants, and ensuring that your coffers are filled with gold and silver by all means necessary, how could you not belong? You seem rich enough.” Penna was startled by the vicious nature of his words, and how very hard this malignity was to detect. He must have been used to hiding things. His sullen brown eyes sparkled with anger.

“ Being a courtier is much more than that!” she said passionately. “There are many tasks to oversee, for the people.”

“I concede that there may be tasks, but I fail to see how this government has acted on the behalf of its people.”

“What do you think courtiers do when they meet in the Capitol every month? They assess the needs of the people and how best to fulfill them. It's not all parties, revels, and balls.”

“Appearances are deceiving then, I suppose.”

“Well, they must be, because I never took you for an imbecile,” she snapped.

“In all the ten minutes you've known me?” he asked wryly. “It usually takes people much longer to figure that out.”

“That is astonishing, because--”

“Drewan, stop baiting her,” Lissy said, as a warning. He paid her no heed.

“No, Lissy, I must speak my mind. There is no justice in this monarchy we have and to pretend things are otherwise would be foolish. There is ill representation for the people, and if no one resists, the government will continue to take whatever it wants at the expense of whatever is deemed appropriate.”

“If you so despise this monarchy, what would you have in its place? A democracy, like the whimsical Vaharens?” Penna laughed.

“Yes.”

She could hardly believe her ears. “I’m surprised you think that system would even work. You trust the people, the ill-informed, close-minded people to make decisions for themselves? You’d have rebellion within hours. It is impossible to make everyone agree.”

“That would not be the issue! That majority of an honest, fair vote would decide things. Is that so whimsical? To put faith in the belief that people know how to run their own lives and the country they live in?”

“It is, and I’ll tell you what else. I find it insulting that you, with your immature theories, attempt to taint the good people in the gentry class who work hard at what they do, ensuring that the people of Gaer have enough feed for their livestock or the merchants of Aden have enough warehouse space to store their goods. They contemplate things you couldn’t even begin to, things you’ve never even thought of in all your years.”

“I’ve insulted you? You, with your disdain of my simple life and the lives of everyone around me? Perhaps it is you, the cynic, who is too close to the situation to understand it. I wouldn’t know, I don’t contemplate such important things as the role of the government,” he said sarcastically. “I leave it up to the wealthy, because of course, they wouldn’t be biased at all.”

“Ignore him, Penna,” Lissy said quickly, rolling her eyes. “He does this with every new person he meets in an attempt to test their logic. It's rather annoying, actually.”

A knock came from the other side of the house, followed by two men in matching silver robes and somber expressions. They bowed deeply and said in unison, “His Highness, The Prince of Ilikarr, is here to see Lady Pennamin and escort her to her home.” A man stepped briskly through the doorway, in between his announcers, and bowed.

Lissy stood up so fast she knocked over her chair. “Welcome to our home, your Highness,” she greeted him, curtsying in return. He nodded curtly.

Penna took more time than Drewan did to respond, but after she had righted Lissy’s chair, she offered the Prince a very swift curtsy and her hand. Prince Keiran kissed it. “A pleasure, my lady.”

“Indeed,” replied Penna. She was not sure exactly how she felt about the Prince, particularly since it was his fault she had to be in the Capitol in the first place. She was perfectly content in Aden and had been prepared to remain there for several more years before being introduced in Court. Then there would be her formal induction into the Court that would probably take place in a few months. All because the Prince decided that marriage laws were outdated and he’d take his precious time finding a wife.

“Your mother asked me to come find you and bring you back to the manor.” He looked around at Drewan and Lissy; the twins were nowhere to be found. “Are these your friends?”

“Yes. This is Drewan, and this is Lissy.”

“Charmed, I'm sure,” he said, nodding again. Lissy was a delicate plum red, her hands twisting frantically in her apron and Drewan was glaring for some reason. Neither met the Prince's eye. Penna was a bit confused at the behavior of her new acquaintances, but was prohibited from thinking about it further because the Prince seemed intent on speaking to her. She supposed she would oblige him. “...And I imagined you would want to return to your home for a time before the small party the Court youth are having.”

'It was very thoughtful of you.”

“Shall we go then?” He looked around at the kitchen condescendingly and Penna could only imagine what scornful thoughts were passing through his head.

“Yes, we ought to. Good day both of you.” Seeing her way past the Prince's guards, she quickly strode through another room and out the front door. Penna was shocked by her anger at Drewan, particularly since she knew so little of him, except that his political views made no sense to her.

The Prince caught up with her in a trice, taking her arm and folding it in his own. “Your mother seemed very concerned for your whereabouts. She was under the impression that I would find you climbing a tree or some other such nonsense.”

Her mouth twitched at the corner, but she smiled and said, “Really? How odd of her. The stress of the move must be getting to her. We women are fragile this way. I do hope you told her to rest?”

He cast her a quizzical look and did not answer.

The Prince, however, was not wrong about Lady Luella. As soon as they entered the door of the drawing room, Penna saw the pacing and hand wringing for herself, with no small amount of glee. “Why, Mother, whatever is the matter?” Penna asked serenely.

“N-Nothing, dear girl,” her mother said, as composed and calm as she could be. Penna could tell she had her mother terrified of the Prince's opinion of their family. It was a bit liberating to hold power over her mother, at least for the time being. “I was so worried you would not be able to find her, Your Highness. You see, she gets these desires to run about all over God's creation. Sometimes I think it's only the weather that stops her, with all the rain we've gotten these past months. Where did you find her, Your Majesty?”

“In that small hut at the base of your land, milady.”

“In... In a hut? Making friends with the locals, I see. Excellent,” her mother replied in a way that Penna was sure was far from excellent. She thought gleefully of climbing a tree at the next outdoor social event. “Perhaps you ought to go and get ready for your evening tea, my darling?”

“Of course.” She curtsied finely and left without looking back.

Penna giggled to herself all the way back to her chambers, forgetting the new dress she would have to be forced into by Breena. If this was how her mother was going to handle the Prince's suit, there was no chance of her being chosen, with the dotty way her mother was blathering on. It was clear she was becoming quite insane by this match and no man would abide a batty mother-in-law.

There was hope for freedom after all.

A/N: Penna and Drewan fight about politics, which I love for some reason, almost as much as I love putting Penna against democracy. See, she's not a self-insert! ;) I feel the need to write about some Gavin, perhaps because if a certain someone were out of the picture, I would put myself in this story. As his lovah.

The evening tea is next.