Summary: Cleon and Ermeline have saved their fief from the floods and made enough money for a proper wedding party. All of Cleon's friends are invited—including Kel. Who do you think she brings as a date? C'mon, of course it's KD.

Kel's face was calm, but her eyes raced frantically across the parchment in front of her. Surely she had misread the letter. The Protector of the Small resisted the urge to pinch herself.

"Lord and Lady Amminar formally invite you to attend the celebration of the marriage between Cleon of Kennan, and their daughter Ermelian."

There was a second note, from her father. Kel felt her heart sink.

"Keladry, our whole family is coming, grandmother and all. We look forward to seeing you there."

Kel caught her father's subtle warning. Grandmother Mindelan was the family dragoness; a cunning matchmaker with a sharp tongue and lungs of leather. Miserably, Kel wished she could meet a dragon instead. The immortals, at least, were reasonable.

There was a knock on her office door. Kel's head snapped up and she hastily tucked the letter away. "Come in." She called.

Neal strode in, his chest puffed out. 'He's been like this ever since Yuki announced she was pregnant.' Kel mused. 'I wonder how long it will last after the babe is born.'

"Kel, did you get any…interesting mail this week?" Neal drawled. "Our lovely red-headed giant sent has sent out wedding invitations."

"I thought he was already married." Kel murmured.

Neal launched into scholar mode. "Of course he's legally married already; his family needed the dowry. Now that his fief is back in order, the families can afford a proper celebration. It happens quite commonly you know. In 452, there were several prominent noble families along the Southern border—

"Thank you Neal. Are you planning to go to Cleon's celebration?" She asked calmly. She folded her hands behind her. Neal blinked.

"No, I'm not leaving my Yamani Blossom behind. I'd pine for her, and our unborn young one. I—

"Thank you, Neal." Kel interrupted. "If that's all…

"What's got you so tight-lipped?" Neal frowned. After spending almost a decade at Kel's side, Neal had learned to see through her calm exterior. "I haven't seen you this upset since we returned to Steadfast. You've got your martyr's face on."

"My what?" Kel asked. It was her turn to blink with surprise.

Neal waved his hand aimlessly. "Whenever you're about to do something that you know is going to get you in trouble. Like when you used to sneak off to fight Joren when we were pages. Like when you finally got down from the needle and faced Wyldon. Like when you left for Scanra—or when you returned to Steadfast. You know you're about to be punished for something, and you're getting prepared to take it."

Kel sank into her chair. "My whole family is going to be there. My father has—diplomatically—made it clear that I must go."

"It won't be that terrible." Neal assured her. "If ol' copper-top does anything underhanded, I can name threescore of former convicts willing to defend your honor." He grinned evilly. "Not that Cleon's a match for you anyway."

Kel winced. Match. Matchmaking. Her grandmother. Kel was turning twenty soon, and she could count all her swains with one finger. Meanwhile, her sisters, Adalia, Oranie and Patricine all had husbands. Her sisters had each provided their grandmamma with great-grand babies.

"Kel, look at me." Neal forced a firm finger under her chin. She felt like she was ten years old again. Neal raised an eyebrow ironically. "I hate to think we've spent all these years saving each other's arses; and after everything you still don't trust me. What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid everyone will think I'm a failure." She mumbled. She stood and paced the small floor of her office. "You don't know what it was like, living with my sisters-in-law. My family nickname was 'the cow.'"

Neal erupted in laughter. Kel glared at him. "Meathead…" She warned.

He coughed and shuddered as the laughter subsided. "Oh, I can't wait to tell Dom." He gasped.

Dom? Something sparked in Kel's brain. It was time to take a note out of Raoul's book.

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Dom's eyes raced across the letter. Kel needed help? An escort to Cleon's wedding celebration? Dom remembered the red-headed knight well. Touchy fellow, in more ways than one. Poor Kel. Dom wondered if she was still stinging from her failed courtship. In her letter, she made it clear she didn't expect anything from Dom. She planned to take him 'as a friend' only.

Oddly enough, the Sergeant felt mildly insulted. Kel didn't want him, romantically at least. She saw him as a friend, nothing more. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He could name threescore of women who wanted him as more than a friend. All he had to do was smile and wink, and a woman was his. Was Kel really immune to him? He grinned. He would use the party as a means to find out.

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A/N: Thanks to Pie of Doomeh, for pointing out a consistent typo. This has been edited since it's first posting.