"I'm not sure how sincere that is," Miranda said, face calm. "But, for both of our survival's, I'll gratefully say thank you."

"You do look good!" Hilde offered.

"I believe so," Lola offered. "Take all the ones you want; I never had a use for them beyond the coin."

"Still," the songstress twirled a little, smiling cheekily. "If all of this means you'll finally show me some respect, maybe this won't be so bad."

Lola stood up, and put the book back in it's proper place. "I'll go fetch that horse," she said. "In the meantime, sir, you need to start figuring out a lie on where you found her. With any luck, your 'buddies' won't recognize her from earlier."

Khaylan glanced sideways at the healer as she began to walk off, "Somehow I don't think that will be a problem, with the right touch."

Khaylan walked a half circle around Miranda, eyes tracing up and down her figure. He brought a hand to his chin in thought, "Surprisingly, I think we can pull this off... you'll need to stand up a little straighter, and you must speak as though to the air around you, as though your audience is beneath your full attention. Save for those above your station."

"Even a knight, such as myself," he paused for a moment, almost struggling to form the next words, "ranks beneath you in the court. Unless of course, they are landed lords."

But then again, you already know all this, don't you?, Khaylan thought to himself. Again he almost posed the question that nagged away at the edge of his mind. There would be time for such things later, after he put others to the question. "Bravado, will be our strongest shield I'm afraid," Khaylan finished.

"The core part of the lie will be your story. We need a tale that is vague enough to not easily be verified, yet plausible enough to be believed," he looked her up and down again, "A friend of my family is a good enough tale, since we don't look enough alike to be family."

He grimaced slightly, forming and discarding lies. "As to why Ive brought you to court, that part may take some work. Most ladies attend court either to form political alliances... or marital ones. Where are you from? Originally, I mean. Not from around here hopefully..."

"Is that why you've always talked so cross with me?" she said, though her voice had a hint of sarcasm to it. "Well, here's top hoping these new developments change that."

"Horse is ready!" Lola said, pulling up a black mare. "She's no work horse, so treat her nicely. You be good, Elle."

The horse nickered in response. Miranda smiled sweetly, and ran a hand down the creature's muzzle. "Aw, this gentle thing?" she mused, patting her flank. "Well, I suppose thee most beautiful can be the most dangerous, can't it."

The new lady paused, her face suddenly turning as red as her dress. She coughed and looked away, trying to appear prideful,

"I've...never ridden two people before," she said. "I need...some assistance."

Khaylan tried to hide his smirk, "Well, fortunately it is not all that different from riding with just one person. It is just a bit... short of room up there..." He trailed off, letting her connect the dots in her own mind as to what in all that would mean. It was not a short journey to the courts, and unless they wanted to spend several days more on the road than they had to, they would both have to ride at the same time. He walked up to the mare, who snorted at his presence and seemed to shy away half a step. He frowned slightly, he was a competent rider, as all knights must be, but he had never really had a gift for horses.

Khaylan turned around, eyeing a set of saddle bags that the healer had also brought out with her. He walked over to the bags and flipped open the cover on one, exposing his armor. He rooted around in the bag, swiftly exposing the chestplate and pauldrons and noting with a grimace that while the blood had been cleaned off of the metal, the hole in his armor was still quite noticeable. He would have to send it in to a smith he supposed. "Lightly armored it is then," he mumbled, retrieving his bracers and greaves. He felt better once at least part of him was incased in steel, though he would rather have had his thick breastplate on. He left his sword buckled to the saddle bags and hefted the moderately heavy sacks, placing them gently on the horse and tying them to the harness.

With that done, he gently placed his hands on the horse's back, leaning part of his weight on the mare to see if she was likely to bolt. When it seemed not, he sighed in relief and vaulted upwards, smoothly moving onto its back and grabbing the reins in one hand as the other reached in and dug out a handful of coins from a pouch. He frowned slightly as he looked at the coins, deep in thought as his gaze drifted to his armor, and then to his shoulder. Sighing, he tucked the coins into another pouch and untied the rest of his money, tossing the bag to the healer. "It's not enough to pay back everything, but it's a start. You'll have the rest in a month's time when your spell is ready. Until then, a thank you will have to suffice."

He turned towards Miranda's friend, "I'm afraid I'll need to borrow your songstress for a while. I'll arrange to have some coin delivered to you as well, until then," he reached across with the hand holding the reins and pulled off a small signet ring, tossing her the token, "use my name at the inn. Just... don't go overboard. I have a healer to pay, after all," he said, already cursing himself for his future financial ruin. Oh well, if things went badly, he wouldn't need to bother settling the debts anyways.

He turned his attention back to Miranda, reaching down with a gloved hand. "Shall we?"

"This will be fine, sir," Lola said, counting the coins. "Good luck."

Hilde caught the ring, looking over the insignia. Then she looked over to Miranda, and offered a comforting smile.

"Good luck," she said, stroking her shoulder.

All well and good, but that didn't change much. Miranda turned her brown eyes upward, eying the man she had come to despise so much and was tied to for life now. She pursed her lips together before reaching out, and clasping his hand.

"Lets."

~~~~~~~~~~~

What a predicament; and what a sight they must have been.

Saddled in the back, Miranda was doing her best to ride modestly, and not fall off the bloody horse. Arms wrapped around his waist, she did her best to focus on the passing trees as they went by, trying to put together a convincing lie along the way. She also refused to admit that, while she was still mad at her current rider, there was no denying the masculine chest under her fists.

"Are we close?" she inquired. "I have my story straight, so long as you play along."

Khaylan grunted under his breath, focusing on the road ahead as the miles disappeared beneath the horses hooves. "Close enough I suppose," he said, removing one hand from the reins to point at a river that wound its way into sight in the distance ahead of them, "once we pass the closest curve of the river, it should be about two hours till we reach the city walls, after that another hour or so, depending on the foot traffic."

He almost asked if she was comfortable back there, but casual conversation was still coming slowly to him when talking to her. He was constantly surprised when the bumps of the road caused her to lurch forward against him, reminding him of how close they were required to be. He tried to district himself from that thought.

"Let's hear your story then," he said, his eyes on the road ahead.

"It's rather simple, really," she said. "I'm sure you have a relative of sorts who likes to spring surprises on you. I'm a friend of his that he sent over seas to look for a possible match. My carriage was attacked by bandits and you helped me out with a quick rescue; explains my disheveled appearance and my current lack of manners."

The best lies were often the easiest of ones. They went over another bump, making her jump slightly.

"Unless you had a better idea," she offered, voice neutral. "I'm all ears to that."

Khaylan chuckled a bit, looking over his shoulder and half smiling at her. "Its about as believable as anyone else's story," he said, "as it so happens, I do have a somewhat estranged cousin from overseas. His name is Eric, and he's a merchant... of sorts."

He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the correct words to explain it. "He deals in... well, unique herbs and spices. He claims half the court meets with him at one point or another but he's probably just blowing smoke around. He tried to set me up with some foreign girl months ago but I convinced him I was persuing interests elsewhere."

"A bandit attack would also explain why my armor is damaged," Khaylan continued, "all in all, we could do worse for a story."

They passed by the river bend, the horse's hooves clicking loudly against the increasingly solid ground as the roads became better the closer they got to the capital. The river was low at this time of year, deep enough for swimming but shallow enough to allow a horse and rider to pass through. As he looked over the water, tiny fish began to leap, swimming against the mild current. The silence stretched on again, and despite how strange the situation felt to him, he decided that riding in silence was even more uncomfortable.

"So... where are you from?," Khaylan said, looking back over his shoulder.

Miranda had fallen back into her mind in that silence, mulling over her new found situation. It wasn't until her new companion spoke up that she was pulled back.

"Cornwall, originally," she said softly, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Near what was supposedly Tintagal. It was a nice place, but father didn't much care for his job prospects. He thought...well, it doens't matter I guess.He was wrong anyway."

She let that unpleasant memory go with a sigh, before she lifted her head back up. "How about you?" she asked. "You always did seem new in the circle of Nobles..."

It was Khaylan's turn to shift uncomfortably in the saddle now. He started to launch into the lie he had been telling for so many years now, that he had always been a minor noble, and was from a neighboring state and had come to court for the better prospects. "Danmoor," he said, "the arse end of the country's western territory. The court believes I'm from a valley to the northwest though, another minor noble looking to grab a bigger slice of the pie."

He chuckled suddenly, "I guess I'm a bit of mystery to them. No one can verify my story, meaning either I'm a very good liar, or I have deeper connections that the King's advisors. It never occurred to them to believe the former over the latter as long as I kept the lower class in check."

He sighed heavily, "you know, I always wanted to be a knight, and now that I am... I spend half my time kissing up to people I hate and hating those I actually..."

He stopped himself, shaking his head. "I should apologize again, playing mind doctor to me is probably pretty low on the list of things you want to do."

Miranda shrugged. "Normally, no," she said. "But we have little else to do as the weeks go by. Be kind of awkward if we suffered in silence the whole time."

Said silence was broken by what sounded like chatter. Up ahead, a group of nights were clustered on the road, looking to be dividing up something between them. One saw their horse approach, and told the other to put the bag away.

"Er," Miranda tried. "I don't suppose those were your friends...are they?"

"My lord," one of them said, trying on a smile. "You're alive...we feared the worst when we dropped you at the shady healer."

Khaylan smiled at the men, his eyes glancing towards each of them separately. "Well, it would seem the healer knew what she was doing after all. Though I fear it will be some time before my armor can be returned to the appropriate shape."

One of the knights leaned to the side as Khaylan talked, trying to get a glimpse of Miranda, a confused look on his face. Khaylan dropped his smile, clearing his throat loudly and staring directly at his fellow knight. "Good sir, I know she is beautiful, but staring is quite rude if you do not recall," he said, one hand dropping from the reins to rest idly on the pommel of his dagger, "and seeing as how she is my guest this day... I am beginning to take offense."

The knight hesitated, caught halfway between staring at Khaylan and staring at Miranda. In the end, he decided it was better to keep his eyes on Khaylan for now. "A.. guest, my Lord?," he said, a genuinely confused look on his face, "you never said anything about..."

"Yes well unfortunately it seems Eric," Khaylan rolled his eyes as he spoke the name, "has decided that another of his friend's daughters would benefit greatly from some time spent in my company. It is fortunate that you left me..."

Khaylan turned his eyes towards the other knight, "...when you did sirs. Had my recovery been speedier, I might have missed her carriage altogether on the road here. Of course, I know you both only wished to leave so that you could bring back a real healer for my wounds. That would be the action our codes demand of us, yes?"

He let the silence hang in the air for a few moments before shifting his gaze between both of them. "It is a good thing neither of you left me to die, as that would be a serious violation of our ethics. What would the grandmasters think, after all?"

"Yes," one of them finally answered; voice cordial, but eyes cold. "We wouldn't dream of it."

That knight looked to be the ring-lead of this group, though evidently not the one in charge of all of them. He was a bit more slender than her new companion, with hair two shades light and eyes two shades darker. She didn't quite like the way he looked at her, nor the look he gave Khaylan as the new knight mounted his horse.

"We were coming to escort you back," he said, smoothly. "And, seeing as you have a lady in your presence, I believe it to be more necessary now than ever."

While they didn't look thrilled, the others accepted this better. Some grumbled( and were quickly elbowed by others) as they mounted their steeds.

"Home, Khaylan?" the leader quipped.