A New Hero

Sketching

It wasn't easy to transfer the power with her father hanging around, giving last goodbyes and hugs, but Karelle managed to make it less jagged at least. Alistair gave her one last out, but Rosie was dead set on her path. She expected Cailan or Myra to return with their father, but both declined. Their brother because he suspected things were far more likely to get interesting on the road. Myra didn't give a reason, just shrugged her shoulders and scampered off. For a beat Alistair met the eye of his eldest and both sighed.

Whatever Myra was hiding it couldn't be that bad. Probably.

Once the King and his smaller company headed home, waving to everyone in their wake, it became Rosamund's job to lead the group. She thought she had a good grasp on things, drifting in and out of the various clumps of advisors and clerics all making notes and forming opinions for the crown, but while standing outside a doorway she overheard a few in conference.

"This is pointless. We're acting on a farce. You know her father will just swoop in and do whatever he wants."

"We're under orders."

"To serve him, not her. Besides, seems like anyone who gets too close to her winds up on a pyre."

Rosie was about to run inside and shout them deaf, when Karelle suddenly snagged onto her arm. The woman was incredibly tall, perhaps as tall and imposing as Squire Gavin. She tipped her head down to her majesty, then whispered, "Let me handle it."

Stomping into the room as if skulls she wished to crush littered the path, Karelle's booming voice ordered, "Get to work. If I catch you slacking like this, you'll answer to our Highness."

"Which one?"

Wrong choice. Karelle spun and glared, "The one with a sword, and who doesn't brook foolishness."

At that Rosie stepped in primly. Dressed in ivory linen she appeared like a freshly scrubbed angel come to rescue the poor clerks. "Chamberlain," she greeted Karelle, "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know," Karelle turned to both with her teeth out, "is there?"

"No!" they shrieked at the same time, scattering away to their books.

Rosie nodded her thanks, but the Chamberlain already turned back to her work inside a great red book she carried everywhere. About to leave, Karelle suddenly whispered, "I used to do that for your Daddy a few times. Once he ran in to try and play the good guy with his hands and face smeared in raspberry juice. Never seen a pile of clerics run so fast in my life."

With a real itinerary which Karelle had operating at such efficiency you could barely see the cogs and gears moving, Rosie was whisked from one meeting to another. It worked out much nicer than Highever as well, what with Arl Teagan presiding and even Cousin Henry sitting near to Rosie. He was sweet enough to help her with any necessary materials, or even lean down to whisper who was who in a meeting. They whipped past so fast, she had no chance of remembering the quick greetings and was grateful.

For a few of the dinners, Cailan was forced to sit up at the head table, and amazingly Myra even made it up for one. Didn't last long, the girl all but unhinging her jaw to inhale the food. An aspect she must have received from their father, who was often cramming things in before rushing to his next problem. But Teagan enjoyed having her around -- he was probably the only noble to not treat her as a bastard, which made Myra behave around him.

Hopefully whatever she was up to, she'd wait from unleashing it at Redcliffe.

You should talk to her about her magic.

Rosie put down the quill which instead of forming diplomatic words or harsh sentences, was tracing the silhouette of a nose. It kept escaping her, the round perspective slipping from her mental grasp. Their father put the issue of Myra's magic on Rosie's shoulders. The half sister blew up during one of Rosie's parties, a birthday party come to think of it, sending fire streaking across the lawn. Everyone knew after that, but none would come out and say for fear of how their King would react.