"Ah, Lyre, good morning. I was hoping I'd find you."

The cat laguz looked up from admiring the contents of her open satchel, quickly stuffing the bag behind her back and stifling a smart remark. Just the way she wanted to start what was working itself into a promising day: a conversation with her dear friend Kyza. Noting his path of travel, she abandoned all pleasantries. "Were you speaking with Captain Ranulf?"

If Kyza absorbed the painfully obvious panorama of suspicious behavior and botched manners, he refrained from comment. Instead, a confident smile spread across his face. "Indeed, and it was because of our dialogue that I was just looking for you."

"How convenient!" Kyza's agreeable "dialogues" with Ranulf usually boded ill for Lyre. The two constantly vied for their superior's attentions. Any victory therefore heralded an equal and opposite defeat. That her coworker seemed particularly cheery on this occasion only served to fortify an already established collection of red flags as far as she was concerned. It was now only a matter of discovering the extent of said damage and the repairs needed to remedy the foregone conclusion to Kyza's announcement.

"The Captain will be absent for a few days on a foreign relations assignment with his Majesty."

"Oh."

While she was not surprised by the news, hearing it was slightly disappointing regardless. Not that Ranulf ever stayed in the capitol for extended periods of time. Skrimir, the new king, was far too restless to manage all of his duties without regular frolics beyond the confines of stone walls and bureaucrats. Ranulf, though often obviously taxed to the limits of his patience by the king's flippant ways, indulged the monarch of these holidays. Rumor had it he believed the excursions necessary to promote the welfare of Skrimir's subordinates and, by extent, Gallia in general. Besides, the captain made a point of turning most of the trips into learning experiences.

But this was no reason for Kyza to act so pleased with himself unless he had developed a sadistic streak, which Lyre doubted. The man may be insufferable sometimes—frequently—but it was all in pursuit of personal gain, not in dashing her hopes causelessly. So why that dopey grin?

"That's all? Well, he sure makes a point of disappearing a lot. We need him here, too."

Kyza stiffened, mirth vanishing. "Captain Ranulf knows what he's doing. You can be most certain his continued absences are in the best interests of all—"

"I know! Sheesh. It's just annoying sometimes, OK?" Biting her lip in frustration, she pressed on. "I'm not saying it's bad or anything. Of course it's all for the best, he's needed everywhere, it's selfish to confine him to the capitol with us, I get it!"

"Oh, then it appears I digress needlessly." The smile was back in place, apparent indication that Kyza's interests in further debate on this particular topic were approximately nil. Another surprise, as he typically insisted on drawing any discussion of His Almighty Captain-ness to ridiculous lengths.

Suddenly tired and vaguely flustered, Lyre decided that her interests in any more debate at allwere very nil. With a sigh, she put a hand on her hip. "What a surprise. Well, if there's nothing more you wanted to talk to talk about..."

"There is one last thing: simply that your duties will be relaxed until the Captain's return."

"As usua—" With a start, Lyre stuck out her tongue. "And you mean our duties, messenger boy."

"There was no such grammatical error in my statement."

"Wh—"

Then it all hit home.

The fatigue drained from her system faster than Kurthnaga, the Goldoan dragon king, could level a castle. Rails torn from beneath her train of though, the sputtering cat laguz found coherency suddenly elusive. "Wh-what?"

Kyza continued with galling formality. "His Majesty Skrimir and Captain Ranulf will naturally be escorted by the royal guard, but in addition, our captain has selected a handful from his own company to join the entourage. He hopes to broaden their experience in both on-site duties and diplomatic affairs. I was just informed that I'm amongst those delegated."

"You?" Lyre shifted into response-autopilot while she struggled to reign in her emotions long enough to give Kyza a piece of her mind. Once she found it again.

"As I said. It's quite an honor."

"YOU?"

"Erm, yes," the tiger laguz repeated. "You sound surprised."

"'Surprised?'" She almost spat the word. "Of course I'm surprised! Why would he choose you?"

"I assume it's because of my exceptional military record and dependability."

"I've got one of those, too! And a lot more more qualifying qualifications!"

If her blown emotional Richter scale had not been comical enough, the sheer absurdity of this last statement in every conceivable way tipped the precarious balance of Kyza's calm. Closing his eyes, he reached a hand to his face, shoulders quivering.

Lyre gaped, color flooding her cheeks. Did the insensitive clod find the situation funny?

With a racking breath, Kyza shook his head and tried to meet her gaze after a brief pause.

He had overestimated his composure.

"Do tell!" He finally managed through the ensuing guffaw.

An overwhelming urge to scream and claw that idiotic grin right off his face flooded through Lyre. Restraining herself, she settled for just screaming.

"At least I'm not an insensitive, friendless brown-noser who thoughtlessly flaunts all of my achievements because that's the only way I can feel good about myself!"

"Hah, I'm the brown-noser? No doubt it was just a harmless coincidence your trajectory happens to land you in the vicinity of Captain Ranulf's office while you also happen to be carrying on your person a satchel of pastries?"

Too late, Lyre discovered that she had wholly overlooked her parcel amidst the heat of their argument had been obtusely waving it about along with her interjecting hand motions. Not that it would have mattered much anyway, she recalled also with chagrin—any beast laguz worth their mettle could literally smell through such an inane attempt at secrecy.

"I thought he might be hungry!"

"Homemade, I'll wager."

"Shut up!"

Thoroughly humiliated, Lyre swiveled an about-face and stalked briskly down the cobbled hallway before the other could muster adequate vocabulary to shove her foot deeper down her already sore throat. Her morning a disaster, she was unwilling to permit this day to dissolve into further ruin by allowing the arrogant fool to see her cry.

Kyza could be so dense!

Lyre could be so temperamental. Kyza had just beheld more mood swings from that girl in the last five minutes than he exhibited in a year.

Ridiculous, really.

Regardless, as he bewilderedly watched her stalk down the hallway, it struck him that triumph did not taste quite as sweet as he had anticipated.

Thump!

With a startled hiss, Lethe winced and glared quickly from the hand planted on her combat training report to the face hovering over her desk. "Lyre! What do you want?"

If she had not been so preoccupied, Lyre would have undoubtedly taken this opportunity to tease her older sister. It was unusual for Lethe to be so unaware of her surroundings that an intrusion of this caliber would merit a snapped pen and bushy tail. The other laguz was renowned for her battle prowess and keen senses throughout Gallia. She had vigorously worked her way through the ranks of the fearsome Gallian army and now boasted command of a unit of her own. Consequently, such a slip could easily provide fodder for taunting for days to come, perhaps even leverage for a few little favors.

However, Lyre's mind was otherwise engaged with more important concerns.

Namely, her own problems.

"It's not fair!"

"No, it's not! I'm going to have to re-write my report now, thank you very much!" Still red in the face, Lethe scowled darkly at the ink that now adorned her fingers and document in shiny dark smudges.

Lyre's hand remained firmly planted. "Don't you care about me at all?"

Snapping her writing hand into a flex, Lethe let bits of feather pen detach themselves meaningly from sticky fingers. "It's hard not to give you at least a little thought when you plant yourself in the middle of my work without so much as a knock on the door."

"The door was open!"

"That doesn't mean you can just barge in and cause catastrophes!"

Lyre bridled defensively. "I'm more important than your dumb paperwork!"

Her sister shot out of her chair. "This had better be important, Lyre!"

"GWARRR!"

Lethe, already harried, stiffened at this second assault on her concentration. Lyre, also surprised this time, yanked her hand from the table and gave a little yip as she whirled around to face the doorway.

"Grr, always fighting! You two behave more like enemies than family!"

The familiar voice belonged to a reprimanding blue tiger laguz who stepped into the sunny office. His tread might have seemed surprisingly light for his hulking size, but this phenomenon was nothing noteworthy amongst the Gallinas who, on the whole, possessed all the grace of any archetypical cat.

Defense mode fully activated, Lethe prepared to snappily lecture her subordinate about meddling in the affairs of others but was cut short at "Y—." With one look at the patient concern on the big man's face she sighed and settled for a relatively civil greeting.

"Mordecai."

Mordecai echoed her sigh with a deep rumble in his broad chest and allowed his frame to relax. The effect his presence imposed on the situation was almost instantaneous; Lethe could already feel the rage seeping unbidden from her body. Sometimes it peeved her that Mordecai could so completely dampen her fiery passion, but she conceded privately that his disposition had prevented bad blood and needless pain on more occasions that she cared to recall.

Besides, it was just hard to be angry for very long with someone like Mordecai—even for someone like Lethe.

When the tiger laguz offered no further response and it became apparent that Lyre was not willing to share any comments that would undoubtedly solidify her membership amongst Those Chastised, Lethe took the initiative to head-off a guilty silence in the making. "Did you need something?"

"Hrrm, not exactly." Mordecai reached a muscular arm over his shoulder to rub the light blue scruff on the back of his neck and glanced sideways almost sheepishly. "I just thought it might be good to talk with you before someone else did."

Lethe tried not to blush at the insinuation. He was right, of course; it was a good thing their catfight had been put to a speedy close before higher powers became involved… again. "Ah, of course. My thanks."

"Hmmm, yes."

It was difficult to feel serious with a stiff hand full of a goopy feather and ink concoction held awkwardly away from her side. Lethe commended herself that she pulled off the attitude convincingly, considering the circumstances. "You have no further need for worry. The situation is under control. Lyre and I will resume our personal discussion at some other time." Lethe felt a ping of satisfaction to see her sister's shoulders tense at this last statement.

"This is good," Mordecai met her set gaze with a wide smile. "I will leave now."

"Bye."

Lyre sulkily added a muttered good-bye as the big laguz turned and squeezed himself through the doorway and into the hallway beyond. Both sisters listened to his receding footsteps in silence. Lyre did not shift her position, so while Lethe was graced with an oh-so-pleasant view of her sister's back she was unable to read the girl's expression. She briefly considered rewarding such childish behavior with a prompt return to re-writing her notes.

Her conscience suckered her begrudgingly out of that plan.

"Lyre."

Silence.

Grimacing, Lethe counted to five silently before trying again. "Lyre!" It came out snappy anyway.

The girl snorted and, without turning, responded in painful monotone, "What dearest sister?"

The bait was tempting. Lethe could already feel the recent anger tugging at its fragile tether, but she distanced herself from her emotions and declined the challenge with some effort. "We'll talk later."

"Whatever you say."

Lethe had had about enough of the evasive crap, but she was unwilling to spark another heated and potentially time-consuming discussion. "Good."

When Lyre still did not budge Lethe settled back into her seat and reached for a nearby stack of blank parchment. Her fingers were dry now and she was not inclined to wash up quite yet. Perhaps she would reward herself with that indulgence after a few paragraphs, though it would be nice to finish up the whole document without interruption and just get it done…

Discussion over.

"I guess I'll be going now," Lyre continued in the monotone. Without so much as a backward glance, she stepped lightly across the room with a soft sway of her hips, head high, and made her exit like a princess.

Leaving the door open, of course, Lethe noted. She waited a few minutes, forcing herself to nonchalantly look for a pen and print a heading on her fresh paper, then bounded out of her chair and shut the door purposefully when she was certain Lyre was gone.