Disclaimer: I don't own anything already creater by Tamora Pierce, so anything you recognise isn't mine.

AN: This idea came to me when I was reading a Fanfic where knights were captured. I began thinking about if a well known knight, say Raoul for instance, disappeared long term... More importantly I began considering the story of his child, who had never glimsped her father... I really do want to know what you think! And to think, I've been an avid reader all my life and only 6 months ago discovered fanfiction.

Chapter 1

I breathed heavily, settling the lance into my firm grip. People told me I take after my father in the joust. I have heard so many stories of how he was unbeatable, of Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, of the Knight Commander of the King's Own, of Raoul the Giantkiller, of Raoul the Jouster… Or, at least, people told me until I asked them not to. They didn't understand that I didn't want to be 'Raoul's daughter'. I wanted to be myself, and 'myself' wasn't anything to do with the father I didn't know. He hadn't been there to shape my life, so why should he get the credit for it?

I was jolted from my thoughts as the lance hit the practice shield. I barely noticed the charge anymore, aimed subconsciously. People told me I looked like my father when I charged – determined and focused. What would they say, I wondered as I turned my horse around, if they knew I thought about anything but the target?

I was turning my attention to the rings of wood that you're supposed to spear on your lance, when I heard someone applauding at the edge of the practice courts. I disliked anyone watching me practice, but all the same, I was used to it. How could I not be when I was the famous Raoul the Jouster's daughter?

I was simply going to ignore the observer. The rings took all the concentration I had, especially since I had taken Lady Knight Keledry's advice and started used a willow ring. His clapping might annoy me, but I was sure his praise would annoy me more, just as I was sure of the fact that if I acknowledged him, he would gush those aggravating praises at me.

I was just about to begin the canter when he spoke.

'You're good. Most girls your age wouldn't have the strength to lift that thing, let alone hit the target shield with it, and right in the centre. Mind you, I do know some exceptions…' His voice drifted off into a low chuckle, although I'm sure that there was as much grief in it as humour. 'You'll want to aim lower, though, if you want to unhorse them.'

I turned then. I could ignore him no longer. My eyes blazed: if I took unkindly to being praised, I took even less kindly to being advised. Who was he to tell me how to joust?

I was confronted with the second tallest person I've ever set eyes on, the tallest having been Numair, the realm's own black robed mage, also regarded as highly handsome. Of course, I had never seen him in his prime, seeing as he had died when I was five. I had felt no grief over his death – I'd never really known him, and at five, I was really too young to understand. I knew the palace was devastated though - Daine on the day of his death was a sight that haunted me still, and I had seen my mother try to cope with a missing husband for eight years.

I took in the rest of his appearance at a glance: he was extremely well muscled, and his short black hair covered his head with curls. However, I was equally quick to notice the grey streaks in the dark hair, and the worn state of his breeches and shirt.

If there was anyway I could had remained seated on my horse whilst I greeted him I would have taken it, as his height, even though I was considered tall, was intimidating. And there was no way I could avoid greeting him now that I had turned. However, there was not a way to remain on my mare, so with reluctance, I consented to be intimated.

'Sir.' I stated as I dismounted. However disdainful I was of someone who tried to correct my jousting, a noble must be treated as a noble, and presumably this man was; however shoddily dressed he was, because no commoner would dare to comment on my style, let alone be allowed to. 'If you'll forgive my impertinence, my jousting is my own. Sir'.

The coldness in my voice was unmistakable. My wording may have been polite, but tone made it clear that he and his opinions were not welcome. I wasn't afraid to insult a noble, after all, I was half K'mir, and the K'miri weren't a people that bowed to authority.

To my surprise, his only response to my obvious insult was to raise his dark eyebrows high. However, I was sure that I saw a grin in his coal black eyes, as, to my displeasure; he strolled across the court to the rings.

If it were possible, his eyebrows rose even higher when he examined the ring I was using, and he glanced at me appraisingly. 'Willow?' There was disbelief in his voice. 'Only one person I've ever known uses willow rings.'

He was right – Lady Knight Keladry was the only person, excepting myself, to use them. However, my mind was more occupied with the fact that he claimed to have known her.

'Yes, Sir.' I replied, some of the coldness gone. Although I hated to admit it, this man was starting to intrigue me. 'Lady Knight Keladry of Malorie's Peak.'

He blanched when I said her title, although why eluded me. His eyes were now fully focused on me, and a frown creased his brow. There was confusion evident in his dark eyes now. 'Malorie's Peak?' He repeated, and I couldn't read his tone. Was it disbelieving, confused, or even angry. On second thoughts, I decided that it wasn't angry – it was slow, low, and still sounded far too easy going for its owner to be enraged.

However, now I was as confused as he sounded. Why had the title affected him so? 'Yes, Sir. Lady Knight Keledry and Lord Domitan are the Lord and Lady of Malorie's Peak, Sir.'

He still looked bewildered, but snorted as I said the latter part of the sentence, muttering with a grin, 'If you could ever call Kel a Lady. Or is Dom the Lady and Kel the Lord?'

I was even more confused by this comment, although I realised it had not been meant for my ears. 'Kel and Dom?' I thought to myself, perplexed. Only a close friend would address them so informally…

As I looked up, I saw the grin disappear from his face as his brows drew together once more. He took a step towards me and said, more anxious now, 'What happened to Buriram Tourakom? Why didn't the titles go to Buri?'

I was sure there was even a hint of desperateness in his voice now, but I had stopped paying such careful attention to him. He had stepped onto dangerous ground by mentioning my mother. Family was not a subject I talked easily about, if at all. My few friends soon learned that family was a forbidden subject matter when I was around, although none of them blamed me for it.

The cold edge had returned to my voice when I answered him. 'Surely you heard of the controversy, Sir?'

'Controversy?'

I frowned; he must been gone from court for a long time if he didn't know what had happened. And I wasn't willing to explain it to him. It was far too near the subject of my family for me to mention. For years I had even avoided my own title for fear of the discussions it produced, and even now, I preferred just to go by the name of 'Lia'.

'Over the titles of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, Sir.' I did not want to be in this discussion, but for the life of me, couldn't see a way out of it.

If he had been gone that long though, surely he didn't know who I was. Maybe he had just come to watch a girl joust; maybe it wasn't because of who my father was. The idea was new to me; everyone knew who my father was, but all the same I revelled in it. It was nice not to be judged on my father rather than myself. After all, he didn't appear to know, and I saw no reason why I should tell him…