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Description
“Breakfast is served, Your Highnesses,” The butler bowed and opened the door to the dining hall for the two royal ladies.

“More like battle may commence,” Lady Paige whispered under her breath. Lady Annaliese was once again attempting to force her step-daughter to sit down for a meal with her.

Usually, Paige ate with her father, and the queen would have her meals surrounded by the ‘fashionable and decent’ people of the keep, but every so often the queen decided that it was only proper to have quality mother-daughter time.  This ‘quality’ time usually ended with one of two possibilities.  One left them both in a raging fury, filling the room with their screaming and yelling until one of them stormed off, unable to stand the presence of the other any longer. The other had them rushing to find other places to be after enduring an uncomfortably long stretch of silence, in which case the servants would tensely wait on them with a fear similar to that of someone being ordered to hold a small, ticking box and wait for it to explode.

Lady Annaliese had married the king three years ago. Paige had never trusted or liked her as a lady in Paige’s court, she trusted her even less and liked her none at all as her step-mother and as queen.  Annaliese had only ever cared about attaining the crown, never the family that went with it, and it showed in her very attitude toward Paige.  She almost seethed to know that when King Cadoman either stepped down from the throne or died, it would be Paige, and not her who would be inheriting the rule of the kingdom.

The servants shifted uncomfortably as their mistresses strode down opposing sides of the long table to where their breakfast was laid out. They nearly stared each other down as they shifted their dresses to sit down.

“What are you planning for this week, Paige?” Lady Annaliese asked her step-daughter after they both had attained a comfortable position on their chairs.  The servants stepped forward and began scooping food onto their plates and filling their glasses with juice and milk.

“The men are going for the Hunt in four days, and I was hoping to go with them.” Paige replied while shaking salt and pepper on her eggs.  She glanced up at Lady Annaliese from underneath her bangs and saw the rigid posture of her step-mother tighten indicating she was hitting a nerve.  She nodded the servants away, and they quickly retreated to the outer edge of the room to wait for further orders.

“You know the Elders won’t let you, Paige.”  Lady Annaliese slammed her fork to the table.  Paige and the servants alike were shocked by this. Lady Annaliese hardly ever got agitated enough to physically show anger through her honed court manner.  Her voice got sharp.  “Why do you keep insisting upon joining the men in their duties and neglecting those things that are proper for a young lady?  Just because you were taught to ride and your father spoiled you with teaching you the bow and arrow does not make you an equal to the men.  The Hunt is a contest.  You could end up injured in a sword fight with one of the guards, or worse!  Never mind what the elders say, I won’t let you.  It’s not proper.”

“I know what the Hunt involves,” Paige hissed through her teeth.  Her eyes narrowed as they rose to meet Annaliese’s.  No matter what the queen thought, it was not her place to deny Paige admittance into the Hunt. The Hunt was entirely the responsibility of the throne, Paige‘s father.  “I can see that this is taboo subject with you.  I will not bring it up with you again, and I ask that my choice of duties stay out of conversation as well.”  She cut into her eggs sharply and shoved the overly large piece into her mouth.  She was intent on keeping level eye contact with her step-mother.  Annaliese held an air of dominance, and Paige wasn’t about to hand the queen a shred of control or power over her life.

“Don’t eat like a heathen, girl.  I don’t know what wild ideas your father has been putting into that head of yours lately.  The Hunt!” Lady Annaliese snapped, her court manner returning slowly.  “I think that maybe you will spend this week in the castle with me and leave him to man’s business while you learn what a woman’s is.”

This comment crossed a line in Paige‘s mind and the time arrived when Annaliese’s presence was no longer bearable.  She made a rather unladylike scream through her mouthful of egg, then furiously scraped food off one corner of her plate.  On the clear spot, she slammed down her glass, the milk in it threatening to slosh over the edge.  Still attempting to chew her original bite, she piled more eggs, bread, and sausage on to the already full plate.  She gave her mother an infuriated look accompanied by another scream, then threw her silverware on the plate and picked up the entire thing. She sidled sideways to the servants’ door glaring and Annaliese as she walked.  The nearest maid opened the door and Paige entered the stairwell to the kitchens below.

“Where are you going?” a skinny scullery maid asked her on the stairs, looking at the door to the dining hall. “Lady, I don’t think your mother is happy with you.”  They could hear Annaliese shouting for Paige to come back and who knew what else.

Paige finally swallowed and hissed at the kitchen girl, “Obviously.”  She pushed past and continued down to the kitchens, the only place in the keep Lady Annaliese’s persistent repression would not dare follow her.

She sat her plate down at the rough table along the far side of the main kitchen and wrestled her skirts over the bench and into a position that she could sit down.  alongside stable hands, servants, maids, butlers, guards, and a few of the lesser lords and ladies.  All of them looked at her as she sat down and a few tentatively waved. Some of the regular kitchen-diners named the occasional shared meal of the royal ladies ‘The Battle of Breakfast’ and they were used to their princess eventually storming down and eating with them.

The cook’s daughter came up to Paige and scrambled up to onto the bench beside her.  She looked up very seriously into Paige’s eyes, “Mothers, huh?”

Paige laughed and hugged the girl.  Her anger faded as she and the girl shared jokes and stories over their breakfast.  The other diners chimed in now and again, and Paige forgot about her step-mother in their company.  She stayed at the table until Enad, the stable master, excused himself to the stables.  Looking down the table, she noticed that most of the guards were leaving for the fields and the others to begin their work and decided to pack food to take with her to the training fields.  She shooed the cook’s daughter outside to play with the other children and began to wrestle her skirts back over the bench to get up.

When she stood, she noticed a tall man wearing a dusty cloak in the corner sipping a mug of cider and reading a battered-looking book.  He had a large squarish bag sitting under his chair and a large staff leaning on the wall beside him.  She smiled and walked eagerly over to him, leaving the food for later; the cook always made plenty.

“Hello Nast,” she said sitting down next to him, shifting the skirts uncomfortably until they laid in a bearable position, “What books do you have for us this time?  Are they as good as the last ones?”

The corner of Nast’s mouth turned up in a smile and he nodded.  He held up a finger and stretched forward to set his mug and book on the table.  He reached under his seat and pulled out the bag, full of books of all sizes.  Near the top, four of them were tied together with coarse twine.  He took these out of the bag running a hand over the bindings, his face showing recognition and fondness.  He handed them to Paige carefully and tapped his finger once on the thick sheet that was tied to the top of the stack.

It read:
For the Pleasure of the Nobles of the Palace
Property of the Carnegie Library
Read and Return with Care
Nast Moradagen

Paige looked up at him, her eyes bright.  “Nast! You finally found a way to make paper!” She tugged the sheet away from the books and felt it between her fingers. “It’s really very thick, but it’s wonderful that you found out how to do it.  This will be amazing! How’d you make it?”

Nast held up his hand and reached into the bag again.  He brought out an oilskin envelope and set it on the table in front of Paige.  He carefully untied the cords and unfolded the skins. Inside was a large, floppy leather book.  The dark brown cover had been embossed with a leaf pattern and the pages sewn carefully by hand.  Paige looked at it in wonder.  Nast grinned at her and absently traced one of the leaves with a finger.

“Did you make this as well?” Paige inquired, at a loss for words.  Nast nodded slowly, and Paige could see that he was quite proud of the book.  He gestured toward it and when she didn’t move, he took her hand and drew it to the cover.

“I’m to open it?” She asked.  He nodded again, this time tilting his head toward it as if to say ‘hurry up’.  She slowly turned the cover over and gasped at the paper inside.  “It’s so white!” she exclaimed and thumbed the pages, “And so thin!  You must have tried for ages to get it like this.”

Nast took his hood down and winked at her, then turned to the next page.  He had written detailed directions on how to make his rough paper.  After Paige had read through it, she looked up at Nast in wonder.  He set the book back in the oilskin, tied it tightly back around the book, and placed it back in his bag.

“Are you going to tell others how to make it?” Paige asked.  She was starting to wish Nast could talk to her.  He just shrugged at her question.  “What is the book for?” She asked.

He pointed at himself, then mimed writing.

“A journal, then?”

He thought for a second then nodded slowly.  Suddenly the noise in the room swelled as the rest of the diners got up in response to the bell that rang to say it was the end of the morning meal and the cook began shouting at people to clear the kitchen faster.

Nast smiled softly and put the stack of books in Paige’s hands.  He briefly squeezed her arm, picked up his things and walked out the door to the yard.  Paige watched him until he turned the corner past the stables.

Then, at a glance from the cook, she got up and gathered some sandwiches and fruit into the topmost of her skirts along with the books from Nast.  Dodging the increasing movement of scullery maids and kitchen boys cleaning up breakfast, she ducked into the stairwell with one last look over her shoulder and ran up the back stairs to the women’s quarters.  There she would put the books in her room and get out of the wretched skirts she wore to be ’proper’ for Annaliese.

It was past time to get ready for her daily practice on the training fields.  She hoped Bethan, her first training master for the day, would remember her breakfast duty and understand her lateness.

Description
“Breakfast is served, Your Highnesses,” The butler bowed and opened the door to the dining hall for the two royal ladies.

“More like battle may commence,” Lady Paige whispered under her breath. Lady Annaliese was once again attempting to force her step-daughter to sit down for a meal with her.

Usually, Paige ate with her father, and the queen would have her meals surrounded by the ‘fashionable and decent’ people of the keep, but every so often the queen decided that it was only proper to have quality mother-daughter time.  This ‘quality’ time usually ended with one of two possibilities.  One left them both in a raging fury, filling the room with their screaming and yelling until one of them stormed off, unable to stand the presence of the other any longer. The other had them rushing to find other places to be after enduring an uncomfortably long stretch of silence, in which case the servants would tensely wait on them with a fear similar to that of someone being ordered to hold a small, ticking box and wait for it to explode.

Lady Annaliese had married the king three years ago. Paige had never trusted or liked her as a lady in Paige’s court, she trusted her even less and liked her none at all as her step-mother and as queen.  Annaliese had only ever cared about attaining the crown, never the family that went with it, and it showed in her very attitude toward Paige.  She almost seethed to know that when King Cadoman either stepped down from the throne or died, it would be Paige, and not her who would be inheriting the rule of the kingdom.

The servants shifted uncomfortably as their mistresses strode down opposing sides of the long table to where their breakfast was laid out. They nearly stared each other down as they shifted their dresses to sit down.

“What are you planning for this week, Paige?” Lady Annaliese asked her step-daughter after they both had attained a comfortable position on their chairs.  The servants stepped forward and began scooping food onto their plates and filling their glasses with juice and milk.

“The men are going for the Hunt in four days, and I was hoping to go with them.” Paige replied while shaking salt and pepper on her eggs.  She glanced up at Lady Annaliese from underneath her bangs and saw the rigid posture of her step-mother tighten indicating she was hitting a nerve.  She nodded the servants away, and they quickly retreated to the outer edge of the room to wait for further orders.

“You know the Elders won’t let you, Paige.”  Lady Annaliese slammed her fork to the table.  Paige and the servants alike were shocked by this. Lady Annaliese hardly ever got agitated enough to physically show anger through her honed court manner.  Her voice got sharp.  “Why do you keep insisting upon joining the men in their duties and neglecting those things that are proper for a young lady?  Just because you were taught to ride and your father spoiled you with teaching you the bow and arrow does not make you an equal to the men.  The Hunt is a contest.  You could end up injured in a sword fight with one of the guards, or worse!  Never mind what the elders say, I won’t let you.  It’s not proper.”

“I know what the Hunt involves,” Paige hissed through her teeth.  Her eyes narrowed as they rose to meet Annaliese’s.  No matter what the queen thought, it was not her place to deny Paige admittance into the Hunt. The Hunt was entirely the responsibility of the throne, Paige‘s father.  “I can see that this is taboo subject with you.  I will not bring it up with you again, and I ask that my choice of duties stay out of conversation as well.”  She cut into her eggs sharply and shoved the overly large piece into her mouth.  She was intent on keeping level eye contact with her step-mother.  Annaliese held an air of dominance, and Paige wasn’t about to hand the queen a shred of control or power over her life.

“Don’t eat like a heathen, girl.  I don’t know what wild ideas your father has been putting into that head of yours lately.  The Hunt!” Lady Annaliese snapped, her court manner returning slowly.  “I think that maybe you will spend this week in the castle with me and leave him to man’s business while you learn what a woman’s is.”

This comment crossed a line in Paige‘s mind and the time arrived when Annaliese’s presence was no longer bearable.  She made a rather unladylike scream through her mouthful of egg, then furiously scraped food off one corner of her plate.  On the clear spot, she slammed down her glass, the milk in it threatening to slosh over the edge.  Still attempting to chew her original bite, she piled more eggs, bread, and sausage on to the already full plate.  She gave her mother an infuriated look accompanied by another scream, then threw her silverware on the plate and picked up the entire thing. She sidled sideways to the servants’ door glaring and Annaliese as she walked.  The nearest maid opened the door and Paige entered the stairwell to the kitchens below.

“Where are you going?” a skinny scullery maid asked her on the stairs, looking at the door to the dining hall. “Lady, I don’t think your mother is happy with you.”  They could hear Annaliese shouting for Paige to come back and who knew what else.

Paige finally swallowed and hissed at the kitchen girl, “Obviously.”  She pushed past and continued down to the kitchens, the only place in the keep Lady Annaliese’s persistent repression would not dare follow her.

She sat her plate down at the rough table along the far side of the main kitchen and wrestled her skirts over the bench and into a position that she could sit down.  alongside stable hands, servants, maids, butlers, guards, and a few of the lesser lords and ladies.  All of them looked at her as she sat down and a few tentatively waved. Some of the regular kitchen-diners named the occasional shared meal of the royal ladies ‘The Battle of Breakfast’ and they were used to their princess eventually storming down and eating with them.

The cook’s daughter came up to Paige and scrambled up to onto the bench beside her.  She looked up very seriously into Paige’s eyes, “Mothers, huh?”

Paige laughed and hugged the girl.  Her anger faded as she and the girl shared jokes and stories over their breakfast.  The other diners chimed in now and again, and Paige forgot about her step-mother in their company.  She stayed at the table until Enad, the stable master, excused himself to the stables.  Looking down the table, she noticed that most of the guards were leaving for the fields and the others to begin their work and decided to pack food to take with her to the training fields.  She shooed the cook’s daughter outside to play with the other children and began to wrestle her skirts back over the bench to get up.

When she stood, she noticed a tall man wearing a dusty cloak in the corner sipping a mug of cider and reading a battered-looking book.  He had a large squarish bag sitting under his chair and a large staff leaning on the wall beside him.  She smiled and walked eagerly over to him, leaving the food for later; the cook always made plenty.

“Hello Nast,” she said sitting down next to him, shifting the skirts uncomfortably until they laid in a bearable position, “What books do you have for us this time?  Are they as good as the last ones?”

The corner of Nast’s mouth turned up in a smile and he nodded.  He held up a finger and stretched forward to set his mug and book on the table.  He reached under his seat and pulled out the bag, full of books of all sizes.  Near the top, four of them were tied together with coarse twine.  He took these out of the bag running a hand over the bindings, his face showing recognition and fondness.  He handed them to Paige carefully and tapped his finger once on the thick sheet that was tied to the top of the stack.

It read:
For the Pleasure of the Nobles of the Palace
Property of the Carnegie Library
Read and Return with Care
Nast Moradagen

Paige looked up at him, her eyes bright.  “Nast! You finally found a way to make paper!” She tugged the sheet away from the books and felt it between her fingers. “It’s really very thick, but it’s wonderful that you found out how to do it.  This will be amazing! How’d you make it?”

Nast held up his hand and reached into the bag again.  He brought out an oilskin envelope and set it on the table in front of Paige.  He carefully untied the cords and unfolded the skins. Inside was a large, floppy leather book.  The dark brown cover had been embossed with a leaf pattern and the pages sewn carefully by hand.  Paige looked at it in wonder.  Nast grinned at her and absently traced one of the leaves with a finger.

“Did you make this as well?” Paige inquired, at a loss for words.  Nast nodded slowly, and Paige could see that he was quite proud of the book.  He gestured toward it and when she didn’t move, he took her hand and drew it to the cover.

“I’m to open it?” She asked.  He nodded again, this time tilting his head toward it as if to say ‘hurry up’.  She slowly turned the cover over and gasped at the paper inside.  “It’s so white!” she exclaimed and thumbed the pages, “And so thin!  You must have tried for ages to get it like this.”

Nast took his hood down and winked at her, then turned to the next page.  He had written detailed directions on how to make his rough paper.  After Paige had read through it, she looked up at Nast in wonder.  He set the book back in the oilskin, tied it tightly back around the book, and placed it back in his bag.

“Are you going to tell others how to make it?” Paige asked.  She was starting to wish Nast could talk to her.  He just shrugged at her question.  “What is the book for?” She asked.

He pointed at himself, then mimed writing.

“A journal, then?”

He thought for a second then nodded slowly.  Suddenly the noise in the room swelled as the rest of the diners got up in response to the bell that rang to say it was the end of the morning meal and the cook began shouting at people to clear the kitchen faster.

Nast smiled softly and put the stack of books in Paige’s hands.  He briefly squeezed her arm, picked up his things and walked out the door to the yard.  Paige watched him until he turned the corner past the stables.

Then, at a glance from the cook, she got up and gathered some sandwiches and fruit into the topmost of her skirts along with the books from Nast.  Dodging the increasing movement of scullery maids and kitchen boys cleaning up breakfast, she ducked into the stairwell with one last look over her shoulder and ran up the back stairs to the women’s quarters.  There she would put the books in her room and get out of the wretched skirts she wore to be ’proper’ for Annaliese.

It was past time to get ready for her daily practice on the training fields.  She hoped Bethan, her first training master for the day, would remember her breakfast duty and understand her lateness.