A/N: This is AU from page 287 of "Squire," just after Lord Wyldon resigns and takes Owen as his squire. If you don't remember, Joren has just died, Cleon and Prince Roald are newly knighted, and Kel has just two years left before her own Ordeal.

I have not given up on my other story, not completely anyway. More should be along soon. But I thought it was time for a break. Not many people like the Kel/Cleon pairing. This one is definitely different. The first chapter is kind of short, but the next few are almost done, I just have to do some last-minute editing and tweaking.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, countries, or plot lines that originated in Tamora Pierce's "Protector of the Small" quartet. However, the plot of this story is my own idea. I hope that my readers will enjoy this, and I welcome suggestions or questions.

Summary: When Kel's oldest brother shows up at the palace, he has some news that will change her life forever.

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Terms of Devotion
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Chapter One
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Midwinter
in the 18th year of the reign
of
Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen
457
Corus
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Kel was packing when her door burst open. She was reaching for her sword when she saw that the newcomer was not Burchard, Joren's father, come to cause more trouble, but Owen. His eyes bulged and his curls looked as if he'd been yanking on them. He ignored Jump and the sparrows who greeted him with enthusiasm.

"Kel!" he cried. "Kel, I'm a squire!"

She tried not to giggle and succeeded, barely. "You've been a squire for months."

"Not like you're a squire, not like Neal. Kel, my brain's going to pop! I'm not in service to Sir Myles anymore. Lord Wyldon resigned, and he's going home a while, and come spring he's going to fight Scanrans. With me! He's going to work me like a horse, he says, but Kel, I'll be a squire to a fighting knight! Isn't it the jolliest? And he'll teach me to breed dogs!"

He launched himself across the room and hugged her wildly, then stepped back, looking sheepish. "Um, sorry. I didn't mean to, uh, treat you like a girl or anything."

Kel sank down on her bed, head in hands. She lost the battle to appear serious and laughed until she couldn't catch her breath.

"Well I didn't think it was that funny," Owen said, but nothing could remove the smile from his face.

Kel sat up, suddenly aware of the figures in the doorway. "Anders? What are you doing here?"

"Kel… we need to talk," Anders said slowly.

"Whatever you have to say can be said in the presence of my friends," Kel protested.

"I'm not so sure." Owen nodded to Kel and left the room, giving the appearance that he didn't want to intrude on a private family conversation.

Neal, walking down the hallway, saw Owen creeping into Lord Raoul's study. Coming close to investigate, he saw that the door leading into Kel's room was open only a hair's width. Owen sat on the floor, ear pressed to this crack. If it had been anyone else, the sight would have been comical, but to Neal, this was just normal Owenish behavior. Neal started to say something, but Owen shushed him and leaned forward to hear.

"Kel, there was a fire at Mindelan, not two weeks ago. Our parents … Kel they didn't make it. It left Mindelan with barely a penny. Kel we need you to return home and marry."

Kel was speechless. She sank slowly down onto the edge of the bed. Tears pricked the edges of her eyes as she thought about her dear father and mother. It was minutes before she even thought about what it meant for her.

The marriage! To leave her training now, with only two years left- it was unthinkable.

Everything in her being was crying out for her to shout "NO!" and run. But Kel didn't. She couldn't. She could not, would not, abandon her family. Not when they needed her.

"I'll do it," she whispered at last.

"It is the right thing, Kel," Anders said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Leave me be," she ordered, pulling away. "I'm still a Squire of the Realm."

"I'll get everything in order. I just hope your fantasy life hasn't completely destroyed any chance we have of making a good wife of you," he said, pulling the door closed behind him. Kel, seized by grief and rage, charged at the door, pounding it with her fists. She sank to the ground in tears, convulsing more than she had ever before.

By the time that Raoul returned to his rooms, the two squires that had eavesdropped at the door were long gone. As he snuffed out the candles left burning for him in the study, he heard sniffling from Kel's room. His knock received no answer, so he cracked the door.

"Kel?" The Squire was curled on the floor, behind her door, tracks running down her face where tears had trailed.

Raoul had no children. He didn't know how to be a father. But he learned that night, helping her to her feet, and letting her cry and babble out the story until she fell asleep, exhausted by her outburst.

"I'm sorry, Kel," he said, slipping out to his own rooms.