Free Trickster's Choice by Tamora Pierce

There was no way for Aly to read what they thought in their level eyes or polite faces. It occurred to her that, being half-raka, these girls must have learned to hide their feelings well. They would have heard the people of Rajmuat and the rest of the Isles speak with careless cruelty of their mother’s people. They may even have heard some of that cruelty from nobles of their own class.

    Dovasary continued, “Your Kyprish is very good—you barely have an accent.”

    “Thank you, your ladyship,” Aly replied meekly. She knew her accent was not Tortallan. Her teachers had come from Imahyn Isle and had pronounced her Kyprish as perfect. The Balitangs spoke with a Rajmuat accent.

    “My sister asked you a question,” Saraiyu said imperiously. “Are you from Tortall?”

    Aly bowed her head, every inch of her the perfect servant. “Yes, your ladyship.”

    Dovasary plopped herself down beside Elsren and pulled him onto her lap. Aly disentangled her fingers from his belt. “Then you know stories of the King’s Champion there, the one they call the Lioness!” she said eagerly. For the first time since Aly had seen her, the younger girl’s eyes were alive with interest. “Tell us some!”

    “Is she really ten feet tall?” asked Petranne.

    Saraiyu settled neatly beside Aly, disposing her cotton skirts perfectly. Waving her fan, she asked, “Is the Lioness as good with a sword as they say? The duchess made me stop my sword lessons.” Her voice turned frosty as she spoke of her stepmother. “She said they were unladylike.”

    Aly scratched her head to cover her confusion. Can I talk of Mother as if I’d never seen her in my life? she wondered. No—as if I’d seen her once or twice, at a distance. They’ll expect that. When Chenaol and Ulasim had first brought her to Balitang House, the steward had questioned her about her origins. Aly had claimed then that she’d been a merchant’s daughter and a maid at Fief Tameran, south of Pirate’s Swoop. The household there had been close to the Grand Progress several years ago. Everyone would have turned out to see the monarchs, the prince and princess, and the King’s Champion ride by.

    Now she folded her hands in her lap. “The Lioness is really that good with a sword, your ladyship,” she replied to Sarai, this time acting the role of a polite servant. “King’s Champion isn’t a title for decoration. Every time a noble demands a challenge to settle a matter of law, the Champion must fight and win for the Crown.”

    “What happens when she loses?” asked Petranne.

    Aly looked at the child, startled. “She doesn’t.”

    “But everybody loses sometime,” Sarai told Aly.

    “Not the Lioness,” Aly said, her mind scrambling. Mother lose? How could she? “Not since she’s been Champion, that I know of.” Remember, you only know the stories, she ordered herself.

    “She must have lost sometimes, when she was training, maybe even when she first got her shield,” Dovasary pointed out. “And Tortall’s at war—she could be killed in that.”

    Aly’s pulse raced. She fought to sound natural, to keep from showing her distress at the idea. “Oh, well, training and that, everyone loses,” she said with a shrug when she was sure of her control. “But the war’s a year old already, and the Lioness is hale enough. She visited her home just before I was taken.” If Alanna was killed in the fighting this year, she would die without Aly having said goodbye.

    “Tell us,” begged Saraiyu, leaning forward, her dark eyes eager. “Tell us how she came to be the Champion. Tell us how she found the Dominion Jewel. Tell us
everything.
”

    Aly only had time to tell them the story of how the Lioness had brought the Dominion Jewel home to her king. Then Duchess Winnamine declared it was time for the children to study. Even Elsren had lessons in counting to do. Aly remained topside, relieved of her duties for the time being. She stood at the rail,