Mother, is she coming?

She’s late. I thought she would come to see me today.

I miss her. Do you think that she misses me?

Mother, what if she never comes back?

I want to come with you!

*

"Kreis! You’re just in time for the show," Triana greeted him cheerfully. She glanced at Kieme, who shrugged at her glare. From then on, Triana decided to ignore her. "C’mon, let’s go find a place to sit down."

They found a place where they had a good view of the stage and sat down on the grass. Kreis sneaked a surreptitious glance at Kieme, who was watching the stage patiently. I suppose anyone can enjoy a play, even if they are on the side of the enemy, he thought, but it seemed somewhat strange to him.

"Look! Aren’t the costumes beautiful?" Triana whispered. The rest of the play would be peppered with her comments, but Kieme did not speak a word as the story unfolded on the stage. Still, Kreis noticed that she was paying attention to every detail of the story, her expression unreadable as usual. He sighed and decided to pay attention to the play as well.

Adrinic was the son of a poor farmer. Kieme was the daughter of the lord who employed him, and had been betrothed from her birth to the king of the nation. In the first scene, the star-crossed lovers met at night, declaring their love for each other and making plans to run away together before Kieme’s arranged marriage could be carried out. Then, the next day, word arrived that their kingdom was at war, and all able-bodied men were required to fight. Kieme promised to be faithful to Adrinic, and their good-bye scene made Triana cry.

Kreis had to admit that Gregan was a great actor, and the actress who portrayed Lady Kieme wasn’t bad, either. The story progressed—years passed, and Adrinic never returned home. Kieme, thinking that Adrinic was dead, married the King with a heavy heart. While she lived in his castle, Adrinic returned from the battlefield to receive the King’s commendment for his bravery and service, and elevation to knighthood. When Kieme heard he was still alive, but she had married another, she threw herself from one of the Palace’s high towers, and when Adrinic learned of her death he drove his own dagger into his heart.

Triana was crying again; Kieme only shook her head a bit. "It was very well done," she said.

"How could she? She promised she would be faithful—" Triana was babbling.

Kieme shook her head. "She did what anyone else would do," Kieme replied. "And yet, Adrinic is a popular name in the north. Kieme is not." All around them, now, people were discussing the play and other things, while the musicians played an epilogue. Gregan and the other performers were accepting congratulations from the audience.

"Were you named after that Kieme?" Triana asked, not able to keep her curiosity contained.

"Yes," was Kieme’s simple—and emotionless—reply. She shrugged and Triana crossed her arms. Meanwhile, Gregan had escaped and was coming in their direction.

"Triana! Darling, do you think I did all right?" he asked. Kieme noticed Kreis’s cheeks turn pink, although Triana didn’t seem to see.

"Wow! I’ve never seen anyone act as good as you did," Triana gushed.

"Well," muttered Cetolyn dryly. She had followed her brother. "You’ve never seen anyone act as well."

"Whatever. I still think you were wonderful," Triana said.

"You flatter me more than I deserve, Triana," Gregan replied unconvincingly. "Will you introduce us to your friends?" he added.

"Oh, sorry! This is Kreis Delamuir—he’s been my best friend as long as I can remember. And this is Kieme Aemonstane, who’s not really a friend, but she’s the escort the Queen of Shadows sent to take us to Thaliron. Um…these two are Gregan Rosalis and his sister Cetolyn. She wrote the play you saw tonight."

"Congratulations," Kieme said, her voice still emotionless as she shook Cetolyn’s hand. "I thought I would never be able to stand hearing that old story again, let alone enjoy it. You have proven me wrong."

You sure sound like you enjoyed it, Kreis thought with sarcasm.

"Thank you," Cetolyn replied.

"You’re going to Thaliron? Really? That’s where I’m going, after this. Maybe I could go with you--" Gregan began, but was cut off when his sister shot him a look.

"Gregan, you’re not polite at all."

"No, I’m sure it will be all right," Triana replied. She glanced back at Kieme, who looked to Gregan.

"What do you want in Thaliron?" she asked him.

"I want to join the army," he replied. "I’m old enough, really. And I’ll work hard."

"No! Don’t let him, please," Cetolyn said. "Gregan, you’re such a wonderful actor. Why do you want to throw that all away?"

"Gregan may come, if that’s what he wants," Kieme said. "You’ve certainly been quiet, Kreis."

What do you care what I think? "I…I don’t know," he said. "It’s not really my business, is it?" And yet . . . I don’t want him with us. I can’t say it—I don’t have any good reason for thinking it—but that’s the way I feel.

"Let me speak to you for a second," Cetolyn said, and she dragged Kreis aside.

"What is it?" Kreis wondered, confused.

"I just wanted to speak to you before you challenged Gregan to a duel," Cetolyn replied. "If it makes you feel better, you’d probably win, but you’re really better off letting him alone."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I’m talking about the way you look as if you’re about to explode with jealousy," Cetolyn explained. Kreis hoped that the darkness hid his deep blush. "Gregan’s always like this with girls. Don’t worry about it. Nothing ever comes of it. If he even thinks of trying something, he’ll have my wrath to deal with. So calm down, all right?"

"I…I don’t know what you mean," Kreis replied. Cetolyn grinned.

"Sure you don’t." Kreis noticed that Gregan’s sister was very pretty in her own way, despite her glasses and boy’s clothing. "You’re lucky, Mr. Delamuir. You’ve got a way with girls, too. Not just your looks, but something else, I think. I can’t really explain it—you’re not like my brother at all—but…well, it’s definitely there."

Kreis thought of all of the girls at the Abbey and blushed even redder. But why did everyone seem to think that he was in love with Triana? Cetolyn was returning to the group, and Kreis followed her, still confused.

"I’ve got to go change out of this costume," said Gregan as they returned. "I’ll try to find you later, all right, Triana?" She nodded, and he winked and blew her a kiss as she walked away. Kreis wondered if his face would ever cool off.

Was Kieme suppressing a laugh?

"Wow, you came too, Triana? Wasn’t that swordfight in Scene Five awesome?"

The speaker was a redheaded boy who appeared to be about eleven, dressed in clothes that would have indicated wealth if they weren’t so wrinkled. His eyes were dark brown, his hair cropped short enough that it stuck out in spikes.

"Oh, no," Cetolyn whispered.

"What are you doing here?" Triana asked. "Did you come to Norana all by yourself?"

"Yup! Dad ordered the players away, but I’d never seen a real show before, so I sneaked out and came here! And wow, it was amazing!"

"Does your father know you’re here?" Cetolyn asked. The boy shook his head.

"Nope. At least, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. Hey, you’re the lady who was with that loud-mouth guy who yelled at my dad, aren’t you?"

"Gregan usually isn’t quite that loud, he just lost his temper," Cetolyn sighed.

"My dad should’ve let you guys perform, anyway. I begged and begged, and he wouldn’t listen, even though it was my birthday."

"That’s right! I’m sorry, Arik, I forgot. You turned fourteen, didn’t you?" Triana said. Cetolyn’s jaw dropped.

"You’re fourteen? Really?"

"Yeah!"

"I thought you couldn’t be more than eleven," she said. Arik frowned.

"So I’m short," he said. "I’m growing, though! I’m an inch taller than I was the last time I was in Norana!"

"Really, Arik—maybe you could get to Norana safely in the daytime, but it’s too dangerous for you to go back alone at night," Triana said to him.

"I’m not going back. Ever," Arik replied. "I’m going to go north, and join the queen’s army!"

"What? Are you crazy?" Kreis burst out. "First Gregan, now you! Why is everyone so desperate to go help some crazy queen march all over our land and take it away from us?"

"Kreis, you—" Triana began, but Kreis was not going to be sidetracked. He’d been broiling long enough.

"So, now, everyone is going to fight against everything that Faradine has built and protected for eighteen years? Just because it looks like Aradinea is way more powerful than we are, you’re going to give up, without even putting up a fight? No, it’s worse than giving up—you’re going to help her destroy everything we stand for!"

Kreis stopped to catch his breath, and before he could continue he felt a hand strike his cheek. He found himself facing Kieme, her face a mask of rage.

"I bet it feels like it does to listen to someone denounce everything you stand for, when he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about," she said, her voice soft and deadly. Kreis’s cheek throbbed with pain. "Think before you speak, Kreis Delamuir, or you’ll find yourself in a great deal more trouble than you’re in already."

Kreis was too angry to back down. "Norana will never belong to the Queen of Shadows," he replied. "Not while I’m around to prevent it."

As he spoke, Gregan returned, smiling widely. "So, do you all want to go out and get something to eat?"

His face fell as he found himself the object of everyone’s blank stare. "What is it? What’s going on?"

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