More than one student blinked in surprise to see Jess in a dress that morning, and that was not the only alteration to her appearance, Josie clasping her hand warmly, tightly, as if to make sure she wouldn't try to bolt from all the stares she was receiving. “Oh Jess, it is so good to see you in one of my outfits! Doesn't it feel nice, the way the air flows comfortably about, cooling you, your legs not caught up and overheating you this time of year in those woolen leggings?”

Jess shrugged. For all that she hated woolen leggings so soon after summer, before things had finally cooled down, linen and cotton were comfortable enough. Even silk, on truly memorable occasions. This dress on the other hand? She winced and turned away as yet another young Aspirant leered at her. Would-be knights, far too many of them had taken on the prickly arrogance characteristic of Mord and Knight Commander Hyve both.

“Well, well. The upstart is finally in a dress, where she belongs.”

Jess clenched her fists and glared hotly at Calabrin, one of Mord's cronies, he of sleek build and sensual features, skilled in lance and longsword both. Calabrin brushed back golden curls, frowning at the sight of her. “Did your master finally get tired of watching you wallow in the muck?” He tutted and shook his head. “Truly, Jessica, I don't know why you even bothered. You already failed in your quest to become an Aspirant, the only truly worthy pursuit at this backwater school so far from the capital. You should have resigned yourself to your fate and duty as a would-be lady even then, instead of messing about with a bunch of would-be cutthroats, granted king's leave or no.”

Far too finely built hands that were nonetheless deadly quick lashed out, cupping her cheek even as Jess prepared to twist and pull back, stumbling instead as she realized at the last possible moment that she would have rammed Josie with her elbow, did she do anything but suffer Calabrin's touch.

Calabrin's lips softened into a smile. “There, now. Don't stumble away from my touch, Jessica." He eyed her body much like Jess would the armored slabs of meat she was preparing to lance when charging across the field reserved for Squires, Calabrin at last giving her a satisfied nod of approval.

"Your shoulders belong on a man, but the rest of your curves suit a woman's dress well enough, Jessica. Though you like to play a fool with talk of a mysterious familiar, as if you were a Druid of old, I know your wit is sharp, and I confess to having smiled a time or two at your jests in the dining hall." He tilted his head. "Mother does favor Calenbry stock for her gardens, and there is much to be said for a lady with a wise woman's knack. I think, perhaps, your obvious flaws aside, you would be suitable company for a man of my rank."

Jess blinked and swallowed, stepping back, Calabrin smiling, and Jess realized to her horror that he wasn't trying to insult her so much as... “By the hells, Calabrin, is this your way of courting me?”

Josie gasped, squeezing Jess's arm, though whether in horror or approval, Jess couldn't be certain and didn't dare turn around, her eyes locked helplessly upon the man gazing upon her so strangely even now, other students quickly hurrying past, for all that Jess cringed at the gossip to come.

Calabrin's brows furrowed. "I merely say that you are not entirely unworthy, Jessica, and were you to conduct yourself with proper deportment, well," his gaze was almost one of confusion, shaking his head. "You really are quite beautiful, when you are not trying to play at being a man. In any case, should you present yourself before my quarters two nights hence, the eve of the gala, I will allow you to accompany me to the main hall." Giving a final nod as if he had paid her the greatest of compliments, he hurried on his way.

Jess blinked, swallowed, utterly confused as to what had just happened.

“Josie. What just happened?”

Josie's lips curved into a teasing smile. “I think, dearest Jess, that you allowing me just a moment to put on crushed rose hips and kohl, along with one of the few dresses I have that fits your shoulders was a very good idea indeed.”

Jess flushed. “But... I didn't even look... I don't even know what I look like. I just feel silly in this dress!”

Josie winked. “Relax, Jess. Calabrin's an arrogant fellow, I know, but his family is quite well off, for all that he is a lesser noble. Very few of us come for named stock such as yourself, you know. That you and Raphael are both my closest friends is sweetest serendipity.”

Jess grinned, and it was Josie's turn to flush, Jess quite convinced that Josie and Raphael had gone far beyond teasing innuendo since their circle of fast friends had formed the year before.

“Come on, Jess, let's get ourselves to deportment before the bell rings. You know how Lady Putrice carries on if we are even seconds late.” Jess couldn't help chuckling as her friend rolled her eyes and smiled, making a delightful mockery of the woman in question, for all that Josie was among Putrice's favorite students, no matter that Josie had skipped class the day before.

Soon enough, Jess found herself seated in that very class, her cheeks flushing hotly as indistinct whispers filled the spacious room, well lit, thanks to grand, stained glass windows depicting what appeared to be a noble knight bowing before his queen. The woman's hair had been done with exquisite care, the glass panes dazzling like jewels, and Jess secretly thought a real cut ruby had been used for the eyes, but she couldn't be sure.

“Calenbry!” Their professor's voice cut through the din. Instant silence.

Jess swallowed and forced herself to look up and meet the hard, steely gray eyes of her instructor.

Dressed elegantly in silk and lace, showcasing her family's fortunes as much as anything, the exquisitely attired and made up lady gave what seemed the smallest of approving nods. “I see you have paid heed to my words.”

Jess swallowed and nodded.

“I expect to see a young lady before me, and in this, at least, I am pleased to see you have given proper heed to my words. Your dress is acceptable, your appearance passing-fair.” A breathless pause as she turned to address the class. “In two days time our school shall be hosting a social event, and I expect all of you to attend. If you do not have a partner, fret not, I shall assure that you are paired up with someone... appropriate to your station.

"And for those few of you girls still prancing about in boys attire, I expect you to be wearing dresses, just as is our own dear Jessica. Whatever man's sport you think to pursue here, your real duties are to serve your families as compliant, dutiful daughters, your every action reflecting upon your family name, and you may rest assured, the time of willful disregard for propriety, appearance, and duty shall end very soon for this school. Are we clear?"

Jess felt herself flush hot with humiliation, Putrice utterly uncaring that her words had jolted every student in her class. The whispers intensified.

“Lady Putrice, forgive me, but it sounds like you aim to make this war college a finishing school.”

Jess blinked at those words, uttered by none other than Erica. Possessing an almost delicate beauty that hid surprising strength despite her willowy frame, she was herself a Squire, and even if the weakest of their band in terms of physical prowess, she was a brilliant tactician and the equal of any cavalryman outside of Eloquin's band.

The gaze she pinned Jess with as she looked back froze her to the quick.

It was as if she thought Jess had betrayed their cause.

Putrice only smiled. "That's right, my dears. Highrock, as it stands now, is no place for a woman. Boys gird themselves for battle. A woman's place is hearth and home. You will soon find, I think, that I am not alone in this sentiment. A great many other influential figures feel much the same. At the very least, the Nobles Council now understands the drawbacks to be had in women trained as hellions, as opposed to embracing their duties as responsible ladies of their household. In fact, I do believe our own dear Calenbry now realizes the value of proper etiquette and deportment. Isn't that right, Jessica?"

Heart racing, Jess forced herself to speak. “Proper deportment and diplomacy are vital elements of almost all successful negotiations, professor.”

Cold eyes seemed almost to smile. “That is correct. I am pleased that you finally understand that. And Jessica?”

“Yes, professor?”

"Your poorly dyed hair is ill-suited to one of your complexion. I expect to see golden tresses free of all stain and dye come the gala two days hence. Am I clear, Jessica?"

Jess swallowed and bowed her head. “Your words are crystal clear, professor.”

"Jess, what the hell was that?" Erica, face flushed, glared angrily at Jess, piercing her with beautiful green eyes.

Jess swallowed and looked away as the gossiping students, so many gazing strangely at Jess, drifted off to other classes or to embrace what free time they had.

“Jess? Talk to me. What's going on?” Erica was no fool, Jess was glad to see, now coming over to clasp her hand. Josie's final farewell look had been sympathetic, but a healer's demands necessitated she spend most of her day in the august presence of her mentors, doing what they could for the maimed or ill nobles who were more than willing to pay a fortune to secure some of the best treatments to be found in all of Erovering.

Jess took a deep breath, missing her familiar's presence even now, forcing herself to speak. "If I don't submit to Putrice's demands... I will be expelled and sent home."

Erica's look was one of horrified outrage. “She can't do that!” she hissed, even now mindful of prying ears, both of them well versed in the importance of discretion in all things military.

Jess gave the grimmest of nods. “She can. For she has my mother's support in this.”

Erica grimaced, rubbing her brows. "I'm not an idiot, Jess. Your mother is on absolutely no lord's lips when my father has nobles over to visit, discussing matters of Council, but whenever your clan comes up... somehow you know that a certain brilliant wife is responsible for keeping a territory larger than most duchies together, a barony to which at least a dozen of the lessers at this college owe direct fealty to, lands that half the dukes on Council would love to seize for themselves, yet somehow, never do."

Jess gave a rueful shake of her head. “You always were one of the sharpest Squires, Erica, and Eloquin takes only the best.”

Erica sighed. “So what does this mean, Jess?”

Jess grimaced, fiercely holding back bitter, treacherous tears. “It means that if I don't acquiesce to dresses and dances, if I dare to ride forth or even train as a Squire, Putrice, along with every single one of my professors, will petition for Dean Echobart to have me dismissed. Sent home in disgrace, or perhaps with a padded diploma to soothe bruised egos, no one wishing to antagonize my father, for all that they hold me in absolute contempt.”

Erica slowly nodded. "I know he fought beside Eloquin, though our mentor cuts you no extra slack for that. If anything, he pushes you harder than any of us."

Jess flushed and bowed her head, not realizing it had been that obvious.

“Bloody hells, Jess! If you can't fight with us, then that means...”

Jess swallowed and nodded. "It means, expertly armored as we are, any siege bolt, arrow, or spearhead could still find its mark. It means as elite as Eloquin forged us to be, casualties might occur that could have been avoided."

Gentle green eyes gazed intently at her. “What will you do?”

Jess sighed, leaning her head against the finely polished oaken door leading to her quarters. “I'm not entirely sure.”

Erica slowly nodded. “Whatever you do, Jess, I support you.” She offered a smile. “I can see how you would prefer to stay, even if it means wearing dresses. The gods know I'm more grateful than words can say to be able to escape my mother's perfectly planned life, and forge my own destiny for a bit.”

“Exactly.”

“But if you dare to blacken your dagger, you will be expelled.”

“It sure looks that way.”

A gentle grip, squeezing her shoulder in sympathy. "I'm here for you either way, Jess."

Without thinking, Jess leaned back, softly kissing Erica's lips with her own. “Thank you.”

Erica flushed and looked away. As did Jess.

“I'm sorry.”

Erica gently shook her head. “It's alright, Jess. I know you'll make the right choice for you. And as your friend? I stand by you.” Her smile turned rueful. “Don't expect Neal to feel the same way, though.”

Jess winced. "Our battle leader? No way he will accept this. He's counting on me to ward us, just as much as Eloquin."

"Take care, Jess, okay? If you need a friend to talk to... my door is always open to you. Just..."

Jess chuckled softly. "Just to talk. I know. Thank you, Erica." With that, Jess entered her quarters, her thick oaken door opening of its own accord.