[b]Constance![/b]

There is a girl. She is young, barely budding, and quite ordinary, as things go. Her name is Bethany. You don’t want to leave your house in her care yet; she’s too young, the time’s not right. But what else can you do? After this tournament, you will return home; you will pack for travel, and pack lightly at that, for you are a daughter of giants and the Avon, and you demand the world bear fruit all around. (After all, feeding you is one way that those around you may give thanks for good food and quiet rains.)

But right now your head is whirling. In a time that is not this time, at dusk, you will trace swirls in the dirt, the great veins of Britain, and you will toss the stones upon them to see where they lie, where you are driven: to wild Lothian of the north, to the mist-haunted Isles of the west, deeper into fair Logres and nigh on to London Town in the east, or even the lesser Britain, that being Brittany, across the waters in the south. You will go as you are bid, and take what you may from your fate.

And you are to take Sir Robena, recently returned, strongest of your lady’s knights. All of a sudden it comes crashing upon you: it was [i]Robby[/i]. Oh, oh, you have been beastly, haven’t you? You didn’t even recognize her! You will absolutely have to apologize. But does she need to know? Perhaps if you continue to be a little distant she will never guess and you can avoid that shame. Yes. Act as though nothing happened. That’s the way.

So when you see the knight coming along with her well-beloved nag, you incline your head, just so. “Our liege has requested that you accompany me on a...” Call it what it is, Constance. “A quest. We must seek out a way to ward off coming disaster. Thank you for your service.” There, wasn’t that easy? No need to grovel for her forgiveness.

[Constance’s consultation will be a [b]10[/b] on where her destiny will take her and Sir Robena.]