“But I can’t. More, I have no desire or inclination, or even the proper anatomy for this,” Derek nearly exploded in the faces of the ladies sent to supervise his makeover into a decently attired and mannered lady companion to a knight of the realm. “Read my lips. I. AM. NOT. A. GIRL!!”

“Well!” one of matronly ladies snapped in prim outrage. “You should have told Sir Garret that little detail when he chose you.”

“I did, or he knew, or...” the young man faltered in the face of three very determined women who weren’t at all upset by the fact that of his claiming that he was a he instead of a she. What had them in an uproar was that he obviously seemed to be lying to them and in their lofty opinions, should have either refused the choosing, or made it very clear to his/her suitor that she wasn’t interested.

Of course, none of them for a moment believed that Derek was a young man, and he cursed his still light voice and delicate looks. In desperation, he pulled off his tunic and yanked his pants down to reveal the truth. “SEE?”

That action was rewarded with enough resulting chaos to please even the most demanding trickster god in existence. First there were three nearly simultaneous gasps, followed closely by the rustle of skirts moving rapidly away along with that of the tent flap being hurriedly flipped aside. Followed up with shrieks in three voices - harmonizing very nicely, he thought inanely - and the clomping of booted feet running towards him.

Then things really got interesting.

“What’d ya do with the girl?” A guardsman, evidently the senior of the pair who had charged inside the tent with spears at ready, glared at Derek in a mix of admiration and suspicion. “Can’t blame ya for wantin’ ta sneak inta have a look, boy, but dammit, that girl was Sir Garret’s personal choice and she gave her consent willingly enough. Just tell us where she is, we’ll go get her, and manage ta lose ya in the confusion if she‘s all right.”

Warily watching the two still ready spears aimed with negligent ease in his direction, Derek unsuccessfully sought another exit from the lady’s robing tent he had been thrust into following the embarrassing ride with Sir Garret. The only practical exit was quite well blocked by the guardsmen.

“There is, was, and never has been, a girl in this tent since Sir Garret left me here.” Spreading his arms out to show empty hands, the boy belatedly recalled that his pants were pooled around his feet and blushed furiously.

“Sir Garret, was it?” The guardsman who had spoken before questioned with a halfway malicious grin of amusement before turning to his companion for a rapid discussion.

Derek overheard snatches of the conversation like. “No rapist with that wee little thing...” Blushes real pretty, like a girl...” “Pretty skin and face...”

“All right,” The spokesman for the guardsmen returned his attention to a further humiliated Derek with another grin. “Here’s what we’re gonna do, boy, girl, or whatever.”

Derek winced at that mixed agreement to his claimed gender, and physical sex to boot but kept his mouth closed while the fellow went on.

“We’re gonna send fer Sir Garret, then go ta tha King an’ Queen ta let their Majesties decide who and what ya might be.” Satisfied with that decision, the man actually winked at the youth. “But lessen, I miss me guess, maybe ya should get used ta answerin’ when folk call ya M’Lady.”

“There are days,” Derek sighed in surrender, for the moment at least. “No, make that weeks at a time, when I wonder why I didn’t just kill myself instead of standing for the apprenticeship testing. That would have been soooo much simpler.”

Sir Garret entered the tent with a glance for the guards still holding the boy at spear point before chuckling and waving them off. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Is it?” He questioned the youth while smiling broadly. “You aren’t a rapist or anything like that are you, Derek? Or haven’t sneaked in to get an illicit look at the goodies have you?”

“If you mean to keep me from bolting, probably,” Derek admitted, once again taken with the knight’s manner and pleasantly handsome features in spite of part of his mind screaming that he shouldn’t even think of things like that. “As for the illicit look at the goodies...Since I seem to be those goodies in question, I really don’t think so. I’ve seen all there is to see quite often in the past fifteen years, thank you kindly.”

“Would hope so, lad,” The first guardsman nodded then flashed a yellow, but genuine grin. “Me’n Savar here’ll just be waitin’ outside for ya and Sir Garret ta reach agreement.”

“Thank you, Hemish,” Garret nodded to the first guard, then to the second and so far silent one as they retreated from the tent.

“I’m not a girl,” Derek weakly protested to begin things, “and really have no reason for wanting to be one, either.”

“No, you aren’t,” Garret agreed with a grin. “But you are apprenticed to a dressmaker, aren’t you? That was you I saw in the back room of Katrina’s shop yesterday wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, it was,” Derek answered in a small voice, embarrassed to have that brought up even if he had expected it. “But I can explain, sir...”

“Perhaps you should allow me to do some explaining of my own, Derek,” The knight quietly interrupted as he seated himself on a padded bench while indicating that the boy should sit down on the stool he was standing beside. “Could you at least hear me out before bolting? If you do that, I’ll abide by your decision after hearing what I have to tell you.”

“All right, Sir Garret,” Derek wondered why he was even willing to listen to the man, but had to admit that the halfway wistful expression on the other’s face was something that had his curiosity aroused. Carefully seating himself on the stool across from Garret, he nodded. “I’m listening, but will make no promises other than that until I hear what it is you have to say.”

“Fair enough,” The knight smiled again, and Derek found himself nearly captivated by the fellow’s personality and sheer charisma. “I suppose you are aware of my... inclinations towards bed partners?”

“Not openly,” Derek assured the man. “Just snatches of overheard conversations between you and your sister, sir. That and something about the way you looked at me during the apprenticeship standings made me think that you might be that way.”

“I see.” Garret grimaced then let out a long sigh before going on. “That was quite perceptive of you, Derek. And also very kind, you not telling anyone of those suspicions. My position in the realm is stable but far from being immune to gossip or other difficulties. Which is what I’m going to tell you about now. Providing you can take my being around you at all, given what you know about me now.”

“Sir...”

“Call me Garret, Derek, please. We may be more intimate or we may not, but you at least deserve that privilege from me.”

“All right, S - Garret,” The boy stumbled over using the knight’s given name, and at the implications of what exactly the other meant by intimate, but had given his word that he would hear the man out. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I am first in line to take over my father’s seat as Duke of Chalmnessa within a few years. It is a very important Duchy, wealthy, with fertile fields, good roads, happy populace, and a fine Lord in my father, Duke Lamont.

“But my ascension to the ducal seat is being contested by my cousin Roric, who I won’t bother to describe to you other than he would make a poor lord, and would not support the King at all. In fact, Roric’s branch of the family has royal pretensions of their own because of ancestry on his mother’s side of the family. My uncle, Baron Luc, is a good but weak man who allows his son to run the barony, which is how I know he would make a poor Duke for my homeland.

“At any rate,” Garret continued. “Roric’s claims to the ducal seat have enough weight that if I am not safely married off within the next few months, he just might win his suit and gain the Duchy in my stead.”

“Would that be Roric of Lindsay?” Derek questioned warily, not wishing to insult the knight by connecting him in any way with a lord’s son well known among the peasantry for being both cruel and rapacious in collecting his more unpleasant pleasures from them. Derek had distant relations in Lindsay who were little better than slaves even though they were labeled as freemen.

“You know of him, I see,” Garret frowned at memories of his own. “Yes, that is who I’m speaking of here.”

“So where do I fit into this, exactly?” Derek asked, fighting off the bad feeling he was getting about where the entire conversation was leading.

“I’m only a tradesman’s son, and that tradesman died before being able to teach me even the rudiments of his craft, so now I must settle for being the apprentice of a dressmaker. I am not fit to get involved in the dealings of lords, Sir Garret. Or even capable of doing so if caught up in them.”

“That is where we disagree, young one,” Garret flashed a brief smile of encouragement that became almost entreating. “I have watched you since first seeing you in the apprenticeship standings, seen how you handle yourself with others, and must tell you that I see more nobility, even if rough, in you than in many young lords brought up to it because of their births.

“What I am going to ask of you will not be easy, I won’t tell you otherwise, Derek, but it could mean the difference between a decent ruler or a vicious, evil one for my home. One who might eventually maneuver himself onto the throne itself with the Duchy of Chalmnessa as a stepping stone.

“But enough of that, I had no real intent to browbeat you with that kind of knowledge,” Garret shook his head while uncomfortably rearranging his belt along with the sword hanging from it. “What I am trying to tell you is that I find you very attractive, others find you so girlish that most think you really are one, if a bit on the tomboyish side.

“I am asking you for something that would probably be a terrible sacrifice, but also assure you that should you agree, the rewards will be even greater. Whether you remain with me or not.

“I am asking only that you go through with the standard courtship period with me, I will not touch you in any unproprietary manner during that time, and once the time for the engagement arrives, you may gracefully decline without censure or problems from me. I will count you as a friend, even if you won’t go through with the rest. I would even take you as a squire if that is what you want, with no other strings attached that my other squires don’t put up with. Which do not include being my bedmates.

“But all I need for now is a love interest who will show the Grand Council that I am actively seeking a bride.”

“Something I am not quite prepared to become, Garret,” Derek responded with more than a little regret for the man’s predicament. “But let’s say that I did accept your offer for the time, how long exactly would this courtship period last?”

“Beginning at the Grand Ball,” Garret told him with a rueful little grin, “Then for a full year following that. You would, of course, remain apprenticed to Katrina during that time. When not in either my own or my sister’s company. Could you do that? Spend more than a year in skirts, learning how to be a real lady and with everyone forgetting that you really are a young man?”

“I don’t know,” Derek honestly replied, reaching for a cup containing some sweetened wine the ladies he had been handed over to had offered him once he was firmly in their clutches. “What about those ladies I frightened off a while ago. Wouldn’t they, haven’t they blown the lady thing already?”

“Not completely,” Garret laughed, though it sounded a little strained. “Mona ran out flapping her hands crying that this one was no lady and never would be one, the others only parroted her. So your ability with the more delicate manners of being a lady is in question, but the fact that everyone still thinks you are a girl isn’t.”

“Aack!” Derek nearly choked when he spit up the wine he had just taken a large mouthful of. Not only because Garret seemed quite assured that everyone thought he was really a female, but also because the wine was very strong and so thick with the honey that sweetened it his throat felt clogged by the stuff.

“Garret moved to pound him on the back, but was waved away as Derek regained his breath while looking at the man with watering eyes. “Wuh - what is this concoction?”

“It’s called The Lady’s Ease Garret grinned at the expression on the boy’s face. “Pretty nasty isn’t it? Ladies in confinement for one reason or another, or wed to a lord they find otherwise unpalatable, use it to make their conjugal duties a bit less onerous.”

“I can believe that,” Derek sputtered for another moment before giving in to the absolute absurdity of the moment and starting to laugh uproariously.

“Trust me on this one, Garret. I will be most careful not to be needing any of this awful stuff in the future.”

“Then you won’t do it?”

I didn’t say that,” Derek felt a twinge at the almost desperate look of defeat on the other’s face before rationalizing as much to himself as to the knight who had made such an outrageous request of him. “First, as you say, I am apprenticed to a dressmaker - something that is usually reserved to girls.

“Secondly, as you yourself have pointed out and I have found much to my own humiliation, most people who see me take me for a girl almost immediately.

“Third,” growing serious again, he stared at the tent wall with a grimace of his own. “I have already apparently accepted your choosing of me as a companion for the Grand Ball, and even if I refused now, I would still be stuck either as a ridiculed male working to learn the dressmaker’s trade, or need to live as a girl until I was able to move far away from here.

“Since I prefer to remain in this kingdom - everyone I know is here - it would have to be one of the first two choices. So, I shall accept your kind offer, Sir, with the warning that your new lady may not be as tractable or delicate as you might like.”

“Good,” Garret arose from his own seat and moved to face the young man who was going to become his affianced lady. “I give you my heartfelt thanks for this.”

“Don’t bother,” Derek grumbled half sourly. “It wasn’t really fair putting the welfare of the whole kingdom up against my holding to a male role that most people around me thought of as sadly lacking in the first place. But I won’t hold that against you. Much.”

“Well,” Garret grinned a bit sheepishly, “You have the put upon pout down fairly well already. I am sorry you feel that way, and won’t hold you to the agreement you just made if it is a real problem for you.”

“I said I would do it,” Derek grumbled again. “And I will. I just hope no one finds out that I’m not really a girl, or that I don’t trip over the skirts I’ll be wearing and break something I consider important. Like my fool neck.”

“Your natural grace would likely prevent such a horrid occurrence,” Garret offered a bit lamely.

“I’m glad you think so, Garret,” Derek sighed while reaching again for the cup of Lady’s Ease and slowly raising it to his lips. “But I think I’ll be needing this after all. For a while, anyway.”

Watching the young man drain the cup with something like desperation to match his own and in no little amazement at the feat, Garret shook his head and offered the pitcher containing more of the sickly sweet, but potent brew. “We need to give you a decent girl’s name, you know. Lady Derek just doesn’t ring off the tongue or in the ear all that well.”

“So long as you don’t want to call me Dorothy, Dotty, or Dot,” Derek mumbled around the rim of his refilled cup. “Got any ideas?”

“How about something like Daphne?”

“Uh uh,” Derek shook his head. “Too soft, and I am not going to be any shrinking violet, sir.”

“Donna?”

“

No, I have a cousin named Donna. A real bitch that one is. I’d think of her every time someone called me that and get a reputation for being a very unpleasant person.”

“Dana?”

“Forget it.”

“Right, too much like Donna,” Garret scratched his head then helped himself to some of the pitcher’s contents too. “How about Denise?”

“Not quite right,” Derek shrugged, “Don’t take all that stuff. I’m the one changing gender here. Not you.”

“There’s another pitcher of it right behind you,” Garret gestured and waited until he was sure his soon to be lady had seen the object and its contents before trying again. “Dahlia?”

“Nope, no flower names either.”

A“re you going to be this difficult to handle when you’re in skirts?” Garret questioned almost plaintively.

“Most likely,” The youth nodded before taking another, more decorous sip of the potent sweetened brew. “You wouldn’t want one of those fading violet types anyway, not your type.”

“How would you know what my ‘type’ is?”

“You picked me, didn’t you?” Derek grumped then grinned wickedly. “I never have been the shy, retiring type.”

“This is going to take a lot of work,” The knight sighed, then brightened again. “I’ve got it. How about Deirdre? Or Delores?”

“Delores,” Derek agreed. “I’d never get Deirdre spelled right.”

“You already read and write,” Garret nodded. “That’s good. Was it a church or guild school?”

“Church,” The newly christened Lady let out a very unladylike belch, then covered his mouth with a dainty hand. “Oops, excuse me. Yes it was church sponsored. The priests thought I had potential to be one of them once my father died. Until I refused to get up for prayers one morning that just felt too early and cold to put up with. After that, I learned on my own, with a bit of help from anyone who could or would.”

“That’s no surprise,” Garret nodded with the beginnings of a wicked little smile. “The priest’s response or the gumption to keep learning you have shown after leaving their tender clutches.

“There’s someone waiting outside to help you get ready for your first introduction to their majesties, Deirdre,” Garret rose from the bench and moved towards the closed tent flap. “I’ll send her in now and wait outside until you’re presentable.”

“I thought we were going to use Delores?” Derek sighed while trying to work the muzziness all that Lady’s Ease had filled his mind with enough to give at least a semblance of coherent argument over the knight’s unilateral decision over what his name would be.

“I know a supposed lady named Delores,” Garret shuddered. “Who raises the same responses from me that your Donna does to you. Would calling yourself Deirdre be so bad?”

“Oh, I guess I could learn to spell it,” Deirdre winced at hearing his new name and grumbled a bit over it, but made no overt motions towards attempted escape. “All right, My Lord, send whoever it is you have waiting out there in here and let’s get this farce going.”

Without much in the way of surprise, he soon saw Katrina’s still trim figure enter the tent carrying a suspiciously familiar looking bundle of violet cloth.