Introduction

Catherin never could understand why her father didn't like her. Other fathers often carried their little girls about with them, playing at horse-back riding, or simply lifting them onto their shoulders to show them the sights only taller people could see. Her father never did. Not when she was younger, and not now. In fact, he tended to avoid speaking to her more often than not.

Once she asked her maid, Brynna, why her father did not want to see her.

"Your father's much too busy to spend time with little girls. If you were a boy like Liam, and going to inherit the castle, then he would spend time with you, I wager."

"Other fathers spend time with their daughters," Catherin replied sulkily. "I see them playing with them by the river sometimes. Maybe Father doesn't love me."

Brynna shrugged impatiently. This was beyond her. She was not Mistress Tylin, to have all the answers to the little girl's questions, but Catherin's sad grey eyes softened her. "Your father loves you, Lady Catherin. But he is a busy man. Besides, lords never play with their daughters. They are far too important to waste their time with games."

Brynna spoke gently, and her words were meant kindly, but Catherin couldn't stop a tear from oozing out of her eye – though she did turn away so Brynna wouldn't see – because Brynna was not telling the truth. Catherin knew because during her wanders about the castle, she had happened upon a low hidey-hole that was actually the end of a tunnel.

Being a very little girl, she was able to crawl along it, until she came to a place where it opened out. When she cautiously poked her head out of the opening, she realised that it was her father's study. What was more, a black-haired man stood with him. Catherin thought it might be Sir Robert, her father's best friend, and one of his knights. Hastily, she pulled her head back, and, while trying to figure out how to turn around unseen, heard snatches of their conversation.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Robert," her father had sighed, and Catherin had tensed. It was Robert. She had never liked him, for all that he laughed merrily at the slightest provocation; his eyes were cruel – and at the tender age of eleven, cruel eyes are reason enough to inspire mistrust and fear.

"Send her away," Robert said carelessly, and Catherin heard him creak into a chair. Who was to be sent away? she wondered. Perhaps Alys, of whose cooking her father was beginning to tire. Or perhaps Dinah, the pretty serving maid who had been making eyes at big brother Liam. She had heard Brynna telling Alys that Dinah thought Liam was stupid enough to make her a lady, but that she needed to understand no lord-to-be would give her more than a passing thought now he'd had her.

They had stopped talking once they caught sight of Catherin peering around the corner, and Catherin had not felt sufficiently bold as to ask what they meant what they meant; that Liam 'had' Dinah? And why he would want to think about her anyway?

"She's my daughter," her father said heavily, and bitter understanding dawned. "Though I may wish otherwise."

Robert had chuckled then. "You're too soft, my lord. You don't even like your daughter – why keep her near to you?" Catherin had bitten her lip sharply, trying to hold back the tears that stung at her eyes.

A slight pause ensued, and then her father responded, "Because I see Joanna in her, and as much as it pains me to look at her; and though she has become quite the hellion, or so I hear from Mistress Tylin, I know Joanna would want me to keep her."

"You need a new wife," Robert replied, laughing. "Someone pretty enough to replace Joanna, and old enough to realise that marriage does not mean love."

A longer pause followed, and Catherin swiped uselessly at her eyes, balling her hands into fists.

"Perhaps you're right," her father had agreed then, and Catherin had scowled, forgetting her tears. "She might be able to take my daughter in hand, at any rate, and I would no longer need to take an interest in what Tylin does with her." He had hesitated, and then added, in a pained tone, "Do you think it's...unnatural somehow, to mislike the presence of your own flesh and blood?"

Robert, whose chuckles had barely stopped, burst into a fresh round of laughter. "Milord, I think you will find that it's more natural than you think. I have never known a father to love all of his children, from the poorest of peasants, to the highest of lords. It is no matter whether you like her or not. She will never know. Besides, you are a better father than most. You have not yet beat her."

Not wanting to hear another word, Catherin had scooted backward until she was out of the tunnel. After mulling on their conversation for some days, she had decided she had best ask Brynna, and see what she would say.

When Brynna had told her that her father loved her, Catherin could not hold back her tears. But she soon quieted, because she knew that Brynna was lying, and instinct told her that she would not get the truth from anyone but perhaps Robert. And she had no wish to approach him, and hear his mocking laughter when he answered. Besides, she already knew the truth.

She walked heavily to a mirror, looking deeply inside, to see if she could find what her father hated in her. It was true, she did look quite like Brynna had described her mother – well, her mother had had grey eyes and black hair, and Catherin was small, even for her age, like her mother had been. But otherwise, she closely resembled her father – she was undoubtedly his daughter.

"He said he misliked me," she whispered bitterly, glaring at herself. And then all the things she did wrong flooded her mind. She climbed trees, and laughed at Mistress Tylin when she tried to catch her when she stole the tarts from the kitchen. And she was rude to Sir Robert besides.

"I am a bad daughter," she realised. Sitting down on the floor, she counted off her bad traits on her fingers.

"I run away from Mistress Tylin when she would have me study; I climb trees to watch the knights practice, and hide when I am reprimanded; I steal tarts from the cook sometimes; and I kicked Sir Robert's dog once. And I am often rude to him besides. Mistress Tylin tells me I am too loud to be a lady; and I play tricks on Father Gilbert when he tries to teach me about the gods. I have a bad temper, and I only listen to Liam out of everyone, because I love him the best."

When she had done counting, she could hardly see her fingers for tears. "I'm a bad daughter, and Father will send me away."

A knock came at her door, and she hastily brushed her eyes with the heel of her hand, and ran to the window. "Come in," she called, not turning around.

"Are you crying still?" Mistress Tylin scolded as she bustled in. "Brynna told me what you said to her, and you should be ashamed."

"Why? What was wrong with what I asked her?" Catherin was sulky now.

"It's unladylike to ask questions like that, especially about your lord father. You are not his concern – and it's presumptuous to expect he would waste his time on playing games with you. Besides, you are too old for all that. Now come. I want you to bathe before dinner."

Now Catherin was completely dry-eyed. She felt something in her go hard suddenly, like baked clay, and felt tired and empty. I will be a good daughter and make him proud.

Meekly she submitted to Mistress Tylin's demands, and bathed without complaint in water that was much colder than she had been used to. Inside she felt worn out – like the rugs she saw the maids beating. All the dust flew out of them. She felt everything fly out of her, and somewhere inside, she drew herself together. They would not see her cry. She was the daughter of Keran Martell, Lord of the Sapphire Islands, and she would act like it. She would make her father proud.

Mistress Tylin, overjoyed that Catherin had inexplicably decided to behave herself, capitalised on her luck, dressing the young Lady Martell in a pretty blue silk that closely matched the colour of the sea.

While walking down the stairs, Catherin ran into Sir Robert, who ate with the family. She greeted him courteously, if a little frostily, unable to forget the things he had discussed with her father.

"It seems our little foxhound has become a bluejay," he smiled.

Catherin had to consciously stop herself from frowning. She did not understand in the least what he meant, and at any rate, she hated bluejays. They were annoyingly loud – she would rather be a robin, if she must be compared to a bird. Why must I be an animal at all? she grumbled to herself. Even Mistress Tylin must see that it's impolite to compare me to an animal. But two?

But all she said aloud was, "You are kind to say so."

Catherin's problem was not that she did not have manners, simply that she chose not to use them. But when she chose to, as now, all Mistress Tylin's hours of careful training shone brightly, and proved that although Catherin may not pay attention, that did not mean she did not learn.

Except, she did not know how to bestow extravagant compliments. That is no matter, she thought. Liam can lie through his teeth well – more than enough for both of us, and people will be flattered at his words. All that remained was to charm her father until he did not want to send her away, and she was not entirely sure that she could do that.

Though she was only ten, she was not ignorant of the mockery in Sir Robert's flamboyant bow, or the disdain in his eyes when he replied. "It is not kindness that compels me, mistress Catherin, but simple truth."

But, with a wisdom beyond her young age, she managed to look faintly amused at his protestation, and lifted an eyebrow when he laughed at her silence.

"Perhaps Sir Robert would escort you to dinner," suggested Mistress Tylin, taking every advantage of Catherin's newfound pliability.

"Would you do me the honour, Lady Catherin?" Robert asked, mischief glittering in his eyes. And it was too much for Catherin – resolution be damned! She would not walk with him – it was all she could do to speak civilly to him! He was making mock of her, gods curse him!

"I am too young, I'm afraid, to make an entertaining companion," she murmured politely, eyes flashing upward for a moment. "But please, Sir Robert, do not hesitate to escort Mistress Tylin to the table. I will walk alone, as befits a girl of my age."

Robert looked quite amazed, and Mistress Tylin not altogether unhappy, for Sir Robert could be quite dashing when he so chose. While he gallantly offered his arm to Mistress Tylin, Catherin walked down the stairs, head held high, and the train of her gown clasped tightly in one hand, so she would not trip and make a fool of herself.

She entered the hall silently, followed closely by her duenna accompanying Sir Robert. Meekly she walked up to the dais, and seated herself at her father's left. Right is the place of honour, she told herself. Right is for Liam, because he was born a boy, and because our mother did not die in the birthing. Because Father loves him, and because he has time to speak with him. Because he is the heir to the Sapphire Islands, and I am naught but an unimportant girl.

She always told herself this, and knew the helpless anger she felt would be enough to see her sit upright during the meal and comport herself with icy dignity. Of course, there were times when she allowed herself to misbehave to alleviate her wounded pride. But tonight there would be none of that. Tonight, and hereafter, she would be a lady. Back straight, she nodded courteously at the maid serving her.

Mistress Tylin soon seated herself beside Catherin, visibly bubbling with exuberance over the honour of partnering Sir Robert, even if only for a few moments.

I may be young, but I'm not as stupid as they are, thought Catherin irritably. I can't imagine what they see in him at any rate. He's a grumpy, mocking, rude, detestable man. He's...unchivalrous.

Unchivalrous was the worst name she could come up with, especially for a knight. She was quite sure that a chivalrous knight would not make mock of her as Sir Robert did. But she was also sure that no one would believe that he did make mock of her – after all, she was young, and Sir Robert was an important man.

Catherin snorted inaudibly, and turned her attention to the steaming roasted lamb filling her trencher.

She ate daintily, painfully conscious of the eyes on her. She concentrated on not allowing herself to blush, but smiled a secret smile. She had not come to the dining hall in a gown since she was eight, because she had ripped them all in play, and Mistress Tylin had finally had her put into outgrown clothes of her brother's – jerkin, leggings, and all – to prevent her ruining expensive silk, though every few months she would try to have Catherin in a gown, whenever Catherin appeared to be less stubborn than usual.

And Catherin's normally unruly hair was bound in a sleek braid down her back. She even had jewelled hairpins in her hair. And she was profoundly uncomfortable.

Liam was grinning at her over her father, and her father had deigned to look at her once. Catherin ignored them both, retreating inside her new-formed shell, like a frightened turtle. Perhaps Sir Robert had the wrong animal. I would have preferred he call me a turtle.She smiled to herself, and concentrated on ignoring the people around her. Until she heard Liam say her name.

Languidly, she moved her eyes to his, and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Little sister, will you ride with me tomorrow morning?" asked Liam.

In an uncharacteristic display of deference, her eyes sought Mistress Tylin. "If Mistress Tylin deems it appropriate. I would not want to upset any of her plans for the morning," she murmured in the soft voice she had adopted.

Mistress Tylin looked as shocked as she had ever been at one of Catherin's impish tricks. The worthy lady, however, was not the suspicious kind, for which Catheirn was grateful – she was sure Liam would laugh at her efforts and ask her what mischief she was planning. Liam, however, would hear the truth if he asked for it. And she was certain he was the only one who would care enough to ask.

"I-I think that it would be fine. Father Gilbert can come at a later hour..." and Mistress Tylin trailed off, lost for words.

Catherin acknowledged her with a nod, and turned back to Liam. "I would be honoured, brother," she replied. And Liam inclined his head, grinning at her.

***

When dawn had just begun to turn the world rosy, a servant knocked at Catherin's door. "The young lord is ready for your ride," he announced, as Catherin sat up, gathering her sheets about her. Mistress Tylin was stirring in her cot by the window.

"Please tell him that I will be there shortly," she replied softly, giving the servant a small smile.

As he left, Catherin stood up, allowing the sheets to fall around her in a tangled mess, and she walked carefully to her closet. This becoming a lady business took a lot of thought and energy. She scowled briefly. She actually had to put thought into her reactions and her actions. From Father Gilbert's incessant droning, she knew that this was how habits were formed, though she thought his lectures had more to do with pious behaviour than becoming a lady.

No matter, she thought tiredly. It will work, as it must, and I will be able to pretend I was always a lady, even though I hate it.

She pulled out a riding habit she had never worn, due to her unfortunate penchant for ruining good clothes. It was hunter's green, fine wool slashed with velvet, and leather riding boots. A yawning Mistress Tylin had reached her, and aided her in her dressing.

Minutes later, she was done, but Mistress Tylin insisted that Brynna do her hair, and so Brynna had been awoken, and the torturous process of doing Catherin's hair had begun. Luckily it was just a ride with her brother, or Mistress Tylin would have insisted on something more decorative than the two intricate braids she chose. They fell to Catherin's waist, and she shook them impatiently. Liam would be annoyed at the wait; she had never made him wait before.

"I will be going now," she announced, when Brynna let go her hair.

"Wait!" Mistress Tylin said quickly. "You need these." And she hurried out of the closet, where she had been rummaging for the last few minutes, holding out a pair of soft leather riding gloves. Hurriedly, Catherin pulled them on, and walked quickly out of the room.

Gods be good, it's just a ride with my brother! she growled in her throat.

"Is our little bluejay wearing a frown?" came a teasing tone. Catherin froze, and then turned to Sir Robert with a polite smile.

"I must beg pardon," she replied, after a moment of quick thought. "I am afraid early rising does not always agree with me." Gods! the man makes it hard to be polite!

"I see," replied Sir Robert. "Walk with me, my lady," he offered, after a short silence.

"I do not believe we are going the same way," Catherin replied, demurely looking down.

"We are," he replied, taking her hand. "Your father asked me to ride with the two of you today."

Catherin blinked in confusion. "I thought my brother would ride with Sir Meryn – he usually does."

"Sir Meryn is training the squires today, and could not go," Sir Robert told her.

And then they walked in silence to the stables, where her brother was waiting, already astride his horse.

A sedate mare had been selected for Catherin, who could hardly contain a groan. She could practically hear Mistress Tylin's words of remonstrance at her choice of horses. She should well remember them; she'd heard them enough, after all: "A lady rides a sweet mount, for no matter how well she rides, she should never be seen to handle a mount near as strong as a man's. It is unwomanly to be as adept in riding as a man, particularly a lord or knight."

Steeling herself for the impending loss of joy in what had been one of her favourite pastimes, Catherin graciously accepted Sir Robert's assistance to mount her mare, and patiently waited until Liam led them out, at a swift trot.

The portcullis was up – it was rarely down, because their location was so isolated. "Shall we go to the seaside, Cate?" Liam asked her, pausing at a crossroads.

"If it please you, brother," she replied politely, trying to contain her annoyance. The beach was only fun when she could swim – which she would not do in the presence of Sir Robert – or when she had an active mount on which she could race Liam for hours as they used to do.

Liam looked at her strangely, and nodded. "To the shore, then."

He turned down the sharp incline that led toward the seashore, and the two followed him.

"Please follow at a distance, Sir Robert," Liam commanded, and Robert, for once not responding with some ill-timed witticism, fell back as the brother and sister urged their mounts to a canter.

"Alright, what is it?" asked Liam, when they were a good forty metres from Sir Robert.

Catherin was tempted to pretend she did not understand him, but decided that it would only annoy him. "Father doesn't like me," she said baldly.

"That's not..." Liam started, and Catherin cut him off.

"I heard him telling Sir Robert. They were talking about sending me away, or finding a new wife for Father. I don't know what they will do, but I don't want to be sent away, Liam."

He nodded, understanding plain on his face. "So you want to become a lady."

"What choice do I have?" she asked in a low voice. "I could never be a son, so it is only a matter of time. The daughters of some Houses are warrior maidens, but you know Father would never permit it. Even those Houses only allow it when there is no son to be heir. 'Vile acts born of desperation', Father Gilbert termed it."

Liam laughed shortly and said nothing.

"Don't laugh," Catherin said sharply. She had expected him to understand.

He reached over and patted her hand, lying slack on the reins. "I'm not laughing at you, Cate – just at our situation. You are not the only one who must change."

"What do you mean?" Catherin asked.

"Father has arranged a marriage for me."

Her mouth flew open. "What? He can't. You're not even eighteen, and besides, some people don't marry till they are old. Sir Robert isn't married. Why do you have to?"

Liam grinned ruefully, holding up a hand to stem the tide of her questions. "Yes, Cate, he can. And it doesn't matter that I'm only seventeen, or that others don't marry till they're old. It's to cement an alliance with House Starling, and anyway Sir Robert is a second son, and no one cares who he marries."

"You won't go away, will you?" asked Catherin in a small voice.

"No, Cate," he smiled at her. "She's coming here. She already came here – don't you remember Lady Lissa?"

Catherin made a face. "You mean the one who's younger than you and tried to pretend I was a doll?" The proceedings of over a year ago still pained her.

"The very same," Liam laughed. "But if it is your desire, I will forbid her from touching your person."

She knew he was jesting, and laughed merrily with him. "Perhaps I will pretend that she is my doll," she replied laughingly.

"They arrive in a fortnight," replied Liam, suddenly sober. "I am...scared, little sister."

"Don't be – it can't be all that bad," replied Catherin soothingly. "You have only to remind her you are not a plaything, and all will be well."

He grinned reluctantly, and then shrugged. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life with Lissa Starling; her brothers were bad enough."

"Perhaps I shall be lucky enough to be sold into marriage with one of them. Or does Father have any other alliances in the making?" Catherin replied sarcastically.

Liam pulled one of her braids. "No more cementing needs to be done in the alliance with House Starling, I fear," he answered in the same tone. "Perhaps you could marry into House Thorne."

"Milord honours me," Catherin replied in an uncanny mockery of Sir Robert's voice. "Yet I must decline. I fear I would not much care for a husband and children that might easily be taken for pigs."

Liam laughed until he choked, and spooked his horse in the process. "Cate, you will be the death of me!"

"I hope not, brother," she replied innocently. "I much prefer you alive."