"Which spoon do you use to stir tea with?" Heather asks, sitting across the table from me. I stare down at the silverware in front of me.

"Ummmmmmm, this one?" I guess, picking one up.

"Wrong," Cami says, slapping my hand.

"Ow!" I yelp, even though I barely felt it through my wraps. I pick up the other spoon, it being my only other option.

"Good," Heather says.

I place it back in its' place. "I'm never gonna get this down," I grumble, resting my chin on the table, my hands on my head.

"We'll just keep practicing," Ruff encourages.

"We've been practicing. All through breakfast and right now during lunch," I say hopelessly. "By bedtime, I'll have exactly two weeks and three days until the ball. This is one of the most important things to get down, because I'll have to use it countless times in front of nobles, and I'm sorry if I'm a tad worried about making a fool of myself!" I exclaim, slamming my fist on the table, and causes the silverware to jump. Of course this catches several girls' attention, and they giggle to themselves about my scene. I sigh, placing my face in my hands. "I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed out."

"It's ok," Heather coos, touching my arm, Cami rubbing soothing circles on my back.

***

"Today, we will learn the art of conversation," Phlegma announces, her large chest puffed out.

"Since when is conversation an art? You just do it," I whisper to Ruff behind me. She snorts, giving me an approving grin.

"People are selfish," Phlegma continues. "There for, to keep a conversation alive, you must always steer it back to the one you are speaking to. There's nothing that people like more than talking about themselves. Asking them questions makes you seem interested and polite, not self absorbed. Do not speak about yourself unless asked. Do not talk about controversial issues. You must always agree. Do not become offensive. Do not yawn or make any other inappropriate noises. Always keep good posture and eye contact. Laugh quietly with hand over mouth, when appropriate. Always curtsey and nod when necessary. Address people accordingly: Mister, Miss, Lady, Your Highness, Your Majesty, My Queen, Master. Lets practice."

We slowly get to our feet, drawing out the process of partnering up and beginning the lesson. I flounce up to Ruff, curtseying the best I can. "Good afternoon isn't it Miss Ruffnut?" Only the noble girls are Lady, like Lady Heather or Lady Ingrid. I hate that. I can be as much of a lady as them, well maybe not, but, Miss sounds like an insult the way they say it; always in a snobbish way, drawing out the 's'. Misssss. It's like they think they need to draw out the word in order to drill it into my head that I'll never be a noble. I'm a poor commoner. Low man on the totem pole.

"Why yes, Miss Astrid," Ruff answers, curtseying in return.

"Did you get a goodnight's sleep Miss Ruffnut?"

"Why, yes I did, Miss Astrid."

"Very good. Did you enjoy breakfast and lunch, Miss Ruffnut?"

"Of course, Miss Astrid. Did you enjoy breakfast and lunch?"

"Yes, very much so, Miss Ruff."

Our conversation went on like this, asking each other simple minded questions. We probably asked a million questions, and we could have asked a million more and still wouldn't have known Ruff anymore than I did when we started. I don't understand the point of talking like this. You don't get to know the person, how they truly feel about things, their full reaction to something funny, their quirks. It's a way to keep everything boxed up, to appear perfect. People aren't perfect, so allow them to embrace it. You can't get to know anyone if they never show themselves. And then I realize Hiccup and the prince's way of talking; both of them always asking me questions, never openly giving me information about themselves. Though, the prince is a little more reluctant. I think talking about his problems helped him. He was able to lessen the hold by releasing a little of it out into the open. I find myself smiling at the thought. I actually have collected several pieces of the puzzle as to who the prince is.

***

After dinner, we are told to stand in line from youngest to oldest --as we are required to do when ever we are told to stand in line-- so we fall into rank quickly: Dee, Jamie, Macy, Layla, Raven, Ruffnut, Camicazi, Faylinn, Larkin, Heather, me, Ingrid. Phlegma reviews the rules for bath night, though we've heard them a thousand times before. She passes out bars of soap and towels and sends us out to the spring. I'm surprised she allows us to to go by ourselves, especially since it's so far from the castle. It's all the way out where we were chasing Hookfang. We file out of the palace, shuffling across the stretch of cobblestone until we reach grass. Most of the girls are quiet, tired from a long day of learning. Others whisper to each other, barely audible over the nighttime creatures. I can feel all of my worries slip away once the spring comes into view. The palace has tubs, but Phlegma believes the spring is more efficient, since we can all bathe at the same time. At the edge, we remove our shoes and clothes. I pile all of my belongings together, and lay my towel on a rock beside them, not wanting it to get dirty. A few girls are already in the water, splashing around. Ingrid and Raven are huddled at the edge, refusing to jump in.

"Come on. It's still a tad warm from the sun!" Dee calls, waving, her curly brown hair already wet. Macy giggles at them amused.

I roll my eyes, walking up to the edge. I bend my knees and plunge in with a perfect dive. When I surface, they are sliding into the water. I paddle over to my friends, who are conversing in a circle. "Nine," Ruff says when I stop beside her. I smile, knowing everyone knows my dive was perfect. She's just jealous. I submerge my bar of soap in the water and rub my hand over the top until it's sudsy. When it's to my liking, I drag it along my body, the pink bubbles hardly visible in the darkness.

"Lets play a game," Ingrid announces. I look up to see her sat on the edge, legs crossed into the spring, her arms propped behind her. She smiles at how easily she captured all of our attention, sat up there like she's already won the crown. And, she probably will. She's beautiful and she knows it, and she's the best student.

"What kind of game?" Heather asks through gritted teeth. Ingrid places a hand above her breast, like she's taken aback.

"No one wants to play a game," Faylinn adds, glaring at her.

"Not even categories?"

"No," Heather says.

"Or Truth or Dare?"

"No," Heather repeats.

"It's fun," Ingrid continues, ignoring her. "See, watch. Astrid! Truth or dare?" she asks me innocently.

I think over my options, looking at the worst of both choices. If I choose truth, she will scrounge up the most embarrassing question imaginable. But, if I pick dare, she will be in control of forcing me to do something I could regret, which could lead to my third strike, and I can't chance that. "Truth!" I say i as even a voice as I can muster.

"Perfect," she answers, and I know that it's not a good sign. "Astrid.... Is it true that you are courting that tall, lanky, noble boy? What's his name? Hiccup? I heard you sneak off at night. I don't want to hear about the things you do," she says, crinkling her nose in disgust. "What a bad girl, Astrid. And with that  boy? You could do so much better. Now, that's a compliment, that someone could be more repulsive than you. He's not a man. He's barely even a boy, really. Besides, he only has one good leg. What draws you in? His eyes, lips... something more? Just tell us you're not courting him, and we will all know this is all a rumor."

I glare at her, my fists clenched, my soap at the bottom of the spring. She set this all up. She knew exactly what she was going to say from the get-go. She never wanted to play a game. She just wanted to call me out, because she figured out my secret. This was all to humiliate me. "You don't have to answer her, Astrid," Heather says. I open my mouth to speak, but am cut off.

"So, it is true! Astrid's courting the dork! There you go girls. You heard it!" she says, getting to her feet, cackling.  I watch her dress, just a silhouette in the darkness, my eyes sending her daggers.

"I hate that girl," I say.

"Don't let her get to you," Ruff tells me, forcing me to look at her. "Ok?"

I don't answer, staring at the water, my anger boiling over. She can make fun of me, but not my friends. Especially when he hasn't done anything to her. I swim to the edge, pulling myself out of the spring. I wrap my towel around me, padding my body dry. I go around the rock to get my clothes, so I can dress, but they are gone. I furrow my brows in irritation.

"Looking for something?" Ingrid asks.

I spin around to face her. "Give them back!" I spit at her.

"I don't think I will." All the girls look up to watch us, once dressed.

"Fight Me!" I say, fuming.

HICCUP'S POV

We are walking through the garden, coming back from polo practice, when I see someone out of the corner of my eye. "Hiccup!" It's Ruff. "Hiccup, help!"

"What is it?" I ask, meeting her halfway. Her blond hair is loos and wet, it ending at her butt. She bends over, catching her breath. "Ruff?"

"It's Astrid," she gets out.

"Is she hurt?"

"She's in trouble. Down by the spring."

My eyes widen. "I can't go down there, Ruff. It's bathing night," I say, my mind reeling. 

"You have to. You don't understand. If you don't come with me, she could get strike three. She'll have to go home. You can't let her be shamed like that. You're the only one she will listen to."

Realization sinks in, and I take a step back,needing space to think. I can't let her shame herself. She would never forgive herself. It doesn't matter if I get in trouble. She's more important. "Lets go," I say.

"Let me go with you as back up," Snotlout calls after me. "You owe me this."

"I don't owe you anything. Stay here."

ASTRID'S POV

"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?" I ask, almost pleading.

"You think you're invincible. You think you can do anything. People like you need to be put back in their place. You think you are as good as us. A bunch of poor farmers from the Lower Valley. You don't belong with nobles," she hisses, her hands in claws. None of the other girls do anything, afraid Ingrid and I will lash out at them. I don't blame them. Besides, this is between Ingrid and I.

Suddenly, her words sink in and my eyes grow large. "You're jealous. Aren't you?" I ask, looking her calmly in the eyes.

"What?!" she scoffs at me.

"You're jealous that he likes me. A poor girl from the Lower Valley. And he's a noble. And you can't handle it. You're jealous." I stare at her, completely serious.

Her lips curl into a sneer and she says every word slowly, letting each one penetrate me. "Why would I ever be jealous of something that's broken and can no longer be used?"

"Why you little-"

"Stop!" I look up, surprised. "Astrid, stop," Hiccup says, stepping between us.

"Stay out of this, Hiccup," I warn, trying to go around him.

"I'd listen to him. Let him be the hero. You're always the pathetic, damsel-in-distress anyway, right?" 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I scream, lunging forward. Hiccup catches me around the waist, holding me back as I try to get to Ingrid, clawing and kicking at her. I can tell it is taking every once of him to keep hold of me, his arms wrapped around me for extra support. I am suddenly aware that I am only wearing a towel and that it's the only thing between my skin and him, and I blush, wanting to disappear. I stop fighting, pulling my towel tighter around me.

He moves his hands to my shoulders. "You can't get a third strike, Astrid. I wouldn't forgive myself if I let you get another strike." His eyes search mine for my answer, and they look so dark and sad and lost. I sigh, not wanting to worry him. I nod, and he relaxes, taking his hands away, and offers me a smile. I relax some too, knowing that his eyes have never left my face, even though I'm only in a towel, andI feel safe.

"I'll take those," Ruff says, snatching my clothes out of Ingrid's hands.

"She's not worth it. Let's get you back to your room," Hiccup tells me, leading the way.

"But she insulted you. Countless times," I argue, half-heartedly. I suddenly feel drained of all of my energy, so I allow him to push me on, his hand on my back, the towel in-between.

"I've been insulted before, Astrid. I hangout with Snotlout and Eret. Insulting is what they do." I give a slight nod, watching Ruff, Cami and Heather catch up to us.

"Here's your clothes," Ruff says. I take them, clutching them to my chest.

We get strange looks from servants as we walk through the palace. I feel uncomfortable, but Hiccup doesn't seem to even notice their stares. I go into the small room with the wash bowl to change into my white nightgown, since Hiccup is in the other room. When I'm done, I splash some cool water on my face and set down on my bed beside him.

"You ok?" he asks, wrapping my hands for me. He does a better job than me, so I don't mind.

"You didn't hear the nasty things she said," I say, not really answering him. "She said we sneak off to do nasty things. She said you're not a man, hardly a boy."

I can see his brain working, his forehead creased. "Let her think what she wants. We know what we do, and none of it is bad."

"But, Hiccup-"

"It doesn't matter. It's over."

"But, she said you're broken!" I blurt out, louder than I intended. "Be- because of your leg," I clarify.He freezes, and I know it hurt him. "I- I'm sorry. I should have just kept it to myself," I apologize quickly.

"Why don't we practice what you learned today?" he offers, finishing my wraps.

"We learned the art of conversation," Heather pipes up.

"Good evening, Lady Astrid," Hiccup says, bowing.

"Good evening to you too, Master Hiccup," I say.

"Did you enjoy the weather outside today, Lady Astrid?" he asks, randomly, and it makes me smile. I enjoy hearing Lady Astrid instead of Miss. And he knows it should be Miss, which makes it that much better.

"It was quite wonderful, Master Hiccup."

"I'm so glad you thought so. Why must we speak like this, Lady Astrid?" he asks, grinning.

"I don't know, Master Hiccup," I admit, laughing.

"Well, may I have this dance M'lady?" he asks in a fake norse accent, holding out his hand.

"Why of course you may," I say, copying his accent, playing along. I curtsey, placing my hand in his, and we sashay around the room, my friends making music for us. I'm positive this isn't even close to a real dance people do at the ball, but I don't care. It's light and easy and carefree and honestly just plain silly. I throw my head back, laughing, losing myself in the movements our feet are making. Hiccup lets go of one of my hands, turning me, his green orbs shining, the lost look long gone now. A mischievous grin crosses his lips, and he yanks me quickly, spinning me hard enough to make me dizzy and I squeeze my eyes shut. I smack into something hard, almost instantly, and my lids fly open. I'm pressed against his chest and he suddenly seems taller. I've never realized how much taller he is than me. At least half a head, though most of it could be hair. I want to kiss him, and I know he wants me to kiss him, but I remember my friends are watching. I blush, so hard my cheeks burn, and we both step away from each other, awkwardly staring in opposite directions.

"I should probably get going. I'm glad you're ok, Astrid," he says.

"Yeah," I sigh, bummed I ruined the moment. He smiles, and kisses me swiftly on the cheek. My blush deepens --which I didn't think was possible-- the spot where he kissed me, warmer than the rest of my cheek, under my finger tips. And he leaves me standing there light-headed and giddy.