“No, no, no!” Aeron shook his head as he told Willoe to stop walking across the room. The chamber was the one that she and Protector Dougal had been using for their weapons training, and it made a perfect location for Aeron to teach Willoe how to look and act like a man.

Willoe stomped a foot and gritted her teeth with fists clenched. What did he want? She was frustrated and quickly became angry. She had done everything Aeron had told her to do all day long. How to slouch the shoulders a little, how to lean up against a wall with ankles crossed, and dozens of other bodily acts that differed between men and women. Yet he still wasn’t satisfied. “What was wrong with that?” Her stomach rumbled; they had worked right through supper.

Casandra and Rowyn sat along one wall, watching, while Dilys sat next to Rowyn, engrossed in her embroidery.

Casandra piped up. “I thought that was fine.”

“I agree with Aery. It just doesn’t feel right,” Rowyn voiced. “There is something that just doesn’t say…man. I still see a woman even though she is wearing my clothes, but I cannot tell you why.”

“I am not sure either.” Aeron walked over to Willoe and looked her over. He stepped back. “Can you walk across the room again?”

Willoe huffed in response. What else did he want from her? But she turned and walked back across the room to make him happy, trying not to stomp as she went. Once she reached the back wall, she turned around to face Aeron, her fists on her hips.

“To start with, do not put your hands like that. Every man knows an angry woman’s stance.” Aeron laughed as he said it.

She dropped her hands and looked up at the ceiling. Can I really do this? She wanted to cry, but Aeron had already warned her, repeatedly, against displaying such emotions.

“You almost have it. But there is still something missing.” He rubbed his bearded cheek as if in thought.

Willoe started to jut her hip out, shifting her weight, then remembered what Aeron had told her and shifted back to standing normally, putting equal weight on both legs.

Dilys continued with her embroidery and spoke without looking up. “Bags.”

Everyone turned to her as Aeron asked, “Bags?”

Dilys stayed focused on her needle and repeated. “Bags. She be having no bags.”

Her frustration temporarily overcome by the mystery, Willoe asked, “What do you mean, ‘no bags?’”

“No bollocks.” Dilys put her embroidery down, made two fists next to each other, held a forefinger out between them and wiggled it. She folded the finger into the fist and held both fists up in front of her to emphasize what she meant. “Ye be having no bollocks.”

“Dilys!” Rowyn and Aeron said together.

Casandra, who didn’t seem shocked at all, asked, “What does a lack of bollocks have to do with the way she walks?”

Now Rowyn and Aeron turned to Casandra, both frowning, which made Willoe smile. Why did men always think women never discussed topics like sexual organs, both their own and those of men? What would they think if they were ever to sit in a circle of ladies working on embroidery?

Dilys pointed at Willoe. “Dear, walk across the room again.” She turned to Aeron. “Watch her feet.”

Willoe walked across the room. She had already tried to correct the sway in her walk, as Aeron had pointed out earlier, and tried to stride rather than sway.

“Rowyn, ye walk across the room,” Dilys politely directed Rowyn.

Rowyn looked at Aeron, who nodded. The prince stood and walked across the room as instructed.

Dilys nodded toward Willoe. “The woman’s feet be close together and she walks almost one foot in front of the other, but not quite.”

Aeron plopped down next to Dilys, taking Rowyn’s seat. He sat with his mouth open for a few moments and, without looking at Dilys, said, “And Rowyn walks with his feet farther apart than Willoe.”

Dilys picked up the embroidery again and looked back down as she pushed the needle through the fabric. “No bags.”