Gisela looks absolutely delighted standing on top of the little pedestal in nothing but a simple linen shift, staring ahead of her at the pile of dresses and cloth. Her hands clap happily in front of her and she bounces on the balls of her feet as she waits for the dressmaker to pull a garment from the wooden chest in front of him. I've never seen her like this before. Usually Josie and I were always the more dainty of the sisters, preferring to stay home and mind the house while Gisela and Eldislav went out hunting. That girl hated dresses because it was impossible to hunt in them, and preferred staying in her outdoor clothes. Josie would muse that she should cut her hair and just be the boy she was meant to be.

I think Gisela is just practical though and never gave in to whimsy since there was no real chance of it. Eldis' daughters, though known to be beautiful, were not really looked at as marriage material. While Josie would try to flirt in town, I was always quiet, and Gisela was always outspoken. Gisela decided early on that she would live the rest of her life as a huntress in the forests with nothing but dead animals for company.

That idea was squashed the moment the dressmaker came in. We were aware I had a lot of clothing to be made, since I had nothing really for summer, but Gisela nearly threw me off the pedestal when the dressmaker told us that Alekso commissioned something for her.

"So do you think this means I will no longer have to be a maid?" my step sister asks. "I mean, you are really easy to work for, Eva, but Kwenthrith is a monster. She always has something for me to do in this stuffy old castle. God, she even made me learn to cook. I hate slaving over hot cauldrons!"

Kwenthrith, who stood by the fabric to inspect it, rolls her lovely gray eyes and waves at Gisela. "I showed you how to make bread. I thought it was fun. And no, just because his highness made you a dress does not mean you won't be a maid anymore. You're the queen's step sister. You have no claims to nobility. Don't forget that one of the reason Alekso had so much support during his rebellion is because his followers believed men of low birth had no right to hold high positions in court. That line of thinking plagued Henry's reign, so the Duchess of Aelfort said."

"He doesn't have to make me a princess, just... not a maid. Maybe I could be a baroness! Baroness Gisela Hunter, does that not sound just perfect? I would have a little castle by a lake, and I would go hunting, and I would have beautiful furs lining all of my dresses."

"The only way you can be a baroness is if you marry a baron," I wink at Gisela. She hates talking about marriage, but she will be of age soon. "That is probably what this dress is for."

"The dress is more for you than Gisela," Kwen insists. "He doesn't need you to like him, he already has what he wanted, but clearly he wants your approval. That is why he dotes on a little maid from the forests: because she is his queen's step sister."

"He dotes on Gisela?" I begin to ask, but then the dressmaker goes "aha!" and pulls out a deep, burnt orange gown. His gloves are a bit thick so he holds it delicately, but shows it to Gisela who practically squeals. It is an absolutely gorgeous dress. It has a square neck and long trumpet sleeves, a high waist with the bodice detail in the front. the bottom hem is a flounce with ruffles; a particularly girly features Eva wouldn't expect Gisela to be so overjoyed at seeing. All the edges are lined with gold trim, sewn in to squares with the thread. The detail is exquisite from where I stand, so I can imagine how lovely it would look up close.

Gisela happily puts the dress on with the dressmaker's help. When Kwen goes to tie up the back he shoos her away, electing to do it himself. Gisela grumps a little at first. "It feels wet."

"Ah, it rained on the way here I am afraid. I had hoped the chest would not have any leaks in it. Forgive me, dear girl. Would you like to take it off until it dries?"

"No!"

I laugh and fold my arms. Gisela pulls her cap off and adjusts her hair so it is in a higher bun, admiring her long neck and how the dress framed her chest perfectly. "I want to gawk at myself for as long as I can. What fabric is this? It is a tad itchy."

"Kwenthrith, what did you mean by the king doting on her?" I try to hide my jealousy. I know Alekso does not look at Gisela with dark intentions; she is just a girl and he reminds me of his passion for me every night. Perhaps it is more protectiveness, like Commander Anselm.

"Well, when the dressmaker is done with you two, he is off to meet with Prince Jean to discuss redesigning the maid outfits. Alekso has realized that we look more like offerings to a pagan god in these than working women." Kwen adjusts a misplaced feather at her shoulder, and she is right. The dresses she wears are very beautiful, but the tight corset one has to wear with it would make one's duties uncomfortable.

"That is sweet of him..." My relationship with the king certainly has blossomed over these last few days and sure enough, I am finding it hard to stay mad at him this morning. He should have told me about the demon Kazaxon though. That is obvious. I can still feel the claws teasing over my skin. I daresay it was not as bad as it could have been, but a little warning would have been nice. The demon touched me as though I was precious to him, and as if all he wanted to do more than anything was pleasure me. Do demons do that normally?

"Just because he bought me a dress and will let me wear more comfortable clothing does not mean he is off my naughty list just yet, Eva!" Gisela calls over as the dressmaker continues to fit her, idly scratching at her chest. He still has his gloves on and I begin to wonder if his hands look odd underneath them. They are quite thick, and he keeps sticking her with the pins accidentally. "Now I am all worried he is going to marry me off to some creepy old man all because I wished I was nobility."

"Well that would not be too bad, would it?" Kwen adds. "If you have an old man as your husband, you can go hunting at your leisure and he could not stop you. And then he would die sooner than you and the barony would be entirely yours."

"I like the way you think, Kwenny."

Kwen bristles at the nickname Gisela gives her, and I stifle a giggle. I might call her that too. "Perhaps you and Alekso can go hunting together, Gisela. He hunts in the mornings, I am told. Isn't that when you and Eldis would go out?"

"Of course it is. That is how it is best done. The animals are quite active around that time. But no, I will not go hunting with the King any time soon. Like I said, he is still on my naughty list--ow!" She shoots a glare down at the dressmaker. "Which you will also be on if you do not quit that!"

"Forgive me, dear." He manages a nervous smile. "It seems I have made you bleed this time. Please wait here while I get something to patch you up, and clean the dress, too."

"I can take care of that." Kwen pushes off from the wall and begins to head to the door, but the dressmaker stops her.

"No no, this is my fault. I will take care of it promptly. I only ask that you do not tell the king I pricked his sister in-law, please."

I go to tell the dressmaker that he won't lose his head simply because he has clumsy fingers, but then Kwen's "he has killed for less" threat comes to mind. If anyone is to complain to Alekso about the dressmaker it should be me, I decide. I have stopped him from killing, and I think things are on the up and up. Alekso, as I thought, knows how to show mercy, and is beginning to make a habit out of it. I watch the little man leave the room and smile to myself at the progress we are making.

"All right, I am ready to take this off. It is far too warm in here for it." Gisela begins to fan herself. It isn't hot in here, in fact the summer breeze and the fact that the sun doesn't hit this room until late afternoon keeps it quite cool. Kwen and I both are comfortable in our long sleeves, and Gisela was a moment ago. As I look over towards her, I see her face is turning red at the cheeks and forehead, and her skin is sweaty. The scratching with her other hand is now turning in to desperate clawing, and the redness continues to spread. It is no longer on her face now, but climbing up her chest and shoulders... from where the dress touches her.

"Gisela!" I cry out and run over to her as she suddenly collapses from the pedestal. Without thinking I grab her and pull her in to my lap, turning her on to her front so I can start to quickly untie the bodice and get the dress off her.

Kwenthrith's eyes widen. "Guards!" She rushes to the door and scrambles past them, pointing down the hall. "Somebody stop that man! He has attacked the Queen's sister!"

Gisela starts to cry and squirm in my arms. I loosen the ties up enough and work to pull the dress from her shoulders and arms. Everywhere that the gold lining has touched, it seems, has left burns on Gisela's skin. The dressmaker had pricked her with his pins a few times on her wrists and shoulders as he adjusted there. There is no doubt in my mind that he was intentionally making her bleed so whatever he soaked the lining in would get in to her and affect her more quickly.

I slip Gisela from my lap and continue to pull the dress off of her, going so far as to tear the cursed thing, and then do away with her chemise, too. She curls up in a ball, trembling and whimpering as the poison continues its assault on her body. I can feel my own hands itch from where I touched her, but I don't care. I pull her back in to my arms and watch as Kwenthrith is still standing in the hall where I can see her. The guards have left their posts by now, but I can hear sounds of a struggle. Is the dressmaker giving them a hard time? But he was such a small man!

Kwen gets a look of absolute shock on her face when the noises cease. Her body then tenses up and she braces herself. Someone is running towards her, shouting in a rage. "Kwen!" I cry out.

She does not look at me. Instead, she holds both her hands in front of her. The hair on the back of my neck begins to stand on end and I feel like the air around us is crackling. Suddenly, purple and white light shoots from her palms. Not a lot of light; more like several small flickers of lightning, but it is loud enough to sound like thunder is here inside the room. The dressmaker must have been her target, as he cries out and I see him slide in to view, landing at Kwen's feet. I hear the clanking of more guards as my ladies maid rushes back in to the room.

"You're a mage!?" I ask in a speedy, high voice, barely able to contain my astonishment.

"Yes." she replies as she kneels in front of me, Gisela's shaking body between us. She isn't crying anymore and it worries me. Kwen takes Gisela's wrist and mine, holding us tightly as she lowers her head. I see Kwen is looking quite rattled herself, with tears in her eyes.

First, I find out Kwen is a mage, and now I find out she can cry? My confusion and horror begins to dissipate as I look down and see the bubbling skin of Gisela start to heal before my eyes. The red fades, the sweat almost looks as if it is evaporating, and her breathing eases, becoming stronger by the second. I can feel in my own hands the magic working to pull the poison out of me and soothe my irritated palms.

"Kwen..." I look dumbfounded at my maid. "Is Gisela going to be all right?"

Kwenthrith sniffles, trying to hide her tears from me. She fails since her hands are occupied, and the tears trickle down her cheeks. "Yes. She will be fine. I am the strongest healer in Mercia."

Gisela sleeps curled up between us. When Kwen finishes, she lets go of us and leans back with a deep sigh. I stare at her for a few moments, unable to do much else, until my jaw is slowly able to close itself. "Why did you never tell me you were a mage, Kwenthrith?..."

She lowers her head again. The raw emotion on her face reminds me how young Kwen really is, only a few years older than I am. It never really made sense to me that she was chosen for me as a ladies maid as the job is usually meant for women with more experience, therefore much older women.

"I didn't want you to know enough about me to form an attachment of any sort," She begins, finally able to wipe her face. "I am not just your maid, I am also your personal guard. If you were in any sort of danger, it is my duty to come between you and death. I couldn't tell you I am a mage because the king doesn't know, either. Lady Aelfort worried he would not allow a mage to be close to you, to protect you from him."

"Are you stronger than he is?"

"No, your highness. No one is stronger than he is, but I would do what it takes to keep you safe. You and Gisela." She strokes Gisela's hair a little. "I tried not to get attached to you, but I failed. You both are like sisters to me, now. I should be more vigilant. I should have checked on the dressmaker, but since he was commissioned by Prince Jean, I did not bother."

"So... you have been vetting everyone I come in to contact with? And yet Alekso doesn't know you're a mage?"

"It is part of my job, your highness. The king knows that I was sent by Lady Aelfort to be your maid. What he doesn't know is that I was chosen by Aelfort because of my past history. I was a very successful guard of hers. She only parted with me so I could protect you, as a personal favor to your step father. It is her way of thanking him for taking care of Queen Winifred in her last years of life."

"She knows of my Eldis? Does that mean she knew of me all this time, but kept me hidden from the king?"

"As I have said before," Kwen smiles. "Lady Aelfort and your mother were very close."

I smile back, knowing it is good that I had allies in Mercia, and even have them now. I can forgive Kwen for her secrets, and I do not blame her for this incident with the dressmaker. She was, after all, able to save Gisela's life. Several guards come in to the room along with the royal physician and and Dungeon Master Godric. Kwenthrith points to the offending dress, while Godric calls for guards to follow him with the dressmaker, who is apparently still alive. Good, I think. I must find out what caused this. The dress was meant for Gisela, not me. Why would anyone want her dead?

Kwen rises to her feet as she helps me along, allowing the physician room to wrap a crimson blanket around Gisela and gather her up in his arms. She curls up tightly against him and tries to dry her tears. None of us say that Kwen healed us just yet, though it will come up when she is checked over. I will think of something. I'm sure Alekso will be upset she hid this from him, and I am also sure he will forgive her. She did save me.

I can hear him coming from down the hall before anyone else seems to notice. I realize now the crimson blanket was actually his cape; he must have given it to the physician who ran ahead of him. As he turns in to the room his eyes easily find me among the others gathered, and I run from Kwenthrith in to his arms. I was not the injured person here, but no one suspected I or my family would be a target. We all just assumed any attacks would be on the king, as they always have been. I feel silly for thinking that I am somehow immune to the darker sides of court intrigue.

"Edeva," Alekso sighs and holds me closer to him. I say nothing, just rest my head against his chest. He feels... warmer. He is usually always so cold and refreshing, but right now his skin is warm as mine.

"I am all right, Alekso. Gisela is, too."

He presses his lips to the top of my head. "I was on my way here to check on you when I heard the shouting."

The corners of my lips twitch. I told him I was mad at him but he still couldn't stay away. "The guards took the dressmaker and are bringing him to the dungeon. I do not know why anyone would want to hurt Gisela." He simply strokes my hair in reply, refusing to loosen his hold on me.

"I will get the answers out of him, my sweet."

He leads me out of the room, hesitant to let go of me. I am hesitant to leave him, too, but I cannot be there when he questions the would-be assassin. For once, I will keep my anti-torture thoughts to myself. This man, and whoever he works for, crossed a line with me by hurting my sister.