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jaw.
    Green eyes such as neither of her parents had possessed studied her solemnly.
“I’ve heard the queen has sent for you.”
    Ceylon jerked her head in a short nod.
    His hands worked on the reins. “I’m pleased she has acknowledged your skill.
You’re certain to bring Marksheath honor in her service.”
    “Thank you, my lord.” Ceylon looked through him.
    He hesitated a moment more, then nodded. He spurred his horse and his party
moved on.
    Slightly ill and miserably aware of the staring crowd, Ceylon pulled her hood
closer about her face and hurried home.
    Her head ached.
    Nor did it feel any better the next day after wrestling with the sheets all
night. It didn’t help matters that Raven was determined to follow her to
Queenstown.
    “I’m your bodyguard,” he insisted, tossing his feed sack full of belongings
on the table. Dawn had not yet come and the room was still lit by the fire and
oil lamp. “You need me.”
    Loath to contradict him, she bit her tongue and tried to think of a way to
reason with him. “It’s cold. You have no horse, so you’ll have to ride in the
carriage. It’s bound to be boring--”
    “Hardly,” he was quick to assure her. “You’re going to visit the queen!
You’ll be traveling with real knights.” He said no more, but his gaze
desperately held hers.
    Ceylon shut her eyes. Of course. The knights. Raven’s dream. “You can come,”
she said, massaging the bridge of her nose.
    Jubilant, Raven swept her up in a crushing hug. “You’ll never regret it,
Ceylon!” He gave her a fierce grin.
    “Yes, yes.” She disentangled herself, feeling to see that nothing was broken.
“Just try to remember that when your feet are numb and your nose has frozen
off.” She wasn’t nearly as enthused with him as he was with her. To her mind he
was just one more responsibility, for she’d worry about him the whole way. How
was she supposed to look after a boy that was old enough to begin shaving when
she’d never been a mother? She eyed him, looking for clues, and found them in
his bedraggled appearance. “Well, come on then.” She headed up the stairs. “I’ve
got some old things of my father’s in the attic. Bound to be small on you, but
they’re in good condition and I can modify some of them on the way.”
    Small was an understatement. Ceylon hadn’t realized how tall Raven was until
she saw his wrists sticking out of her father’s coat a good three inches. She
stared at the high water pants in equal dismay. Those barely went past his
calves. “I can do something about the shirts, but we’ll simply have to buy more
pants.” And boots, she added silently. The shoes he had on had cracked and were
close to falling apart.
    He shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t buy them just yet.”
    She waved a hand. “Call it an advance on your wages, but we’d better hurry if
we’re going to buy you anything. It’s almost dawn, and they’re sure to be
annoyed at the delay.”
    Sure enough, Uric was already at her door, about to knock when she opened it.
A carriage and his men waited behind him. He smiled. “Glad to see you’re
ready.”
    “Not quite.” Ceylon tipped her head at Raven. “My servant will be coming with
us, and I need a few minutes to buy him some warmer clothes. It was a last
minute decision,” she added when he scowled.
    Uric looked heavenward in irritation. “Make it quick, then. We have some hard
riding to do.” He looked at two of his men. “Get her bags and put them in the
coach.”
    Ceylon gave him a grateful bow of her head and strode off, glad that she wore
long underwear under her pants. Today was no day to be fashion conscious.
    “Wouldn’t you like to ride?” he called after her, leading his horse.
    “I’ll be riding all day,” she threw over her shoulder. “Besides, it’s only a
few doors down.”
    Lights were on in the shoemaker’s house, though doubtless he wasn’t expecting
business so early.