Lethe would have been pleased to discover that Lyre had not, in fact, met her expectations and deserted her duties. Yes, she had been angry, and yes, the thought had crossed her mind—though she would conveniently try to push that little detail out of her memory before she was undoubtedly grilled by her bossy brat of a twin sister for being home late—but Lyre had completed her drills. And as it was not her shift to patrol the castle that day and she was not currently involved with any other projects—boy, it sucked to be off duty, everything was so boring—the golden opportunity of leaving legitimately early had been waved tantalizingly before her face relatively early in the afternoon. Still miffed from earlier ill-humored conversations, she did not feel particularly in proper spirits to have a good time with her girl friends who had likewise worked a short day. So she declined their offer to hit the town and hang out and instead was left with the daunting prospect of time-management.

As she waved bye to her friends and wished them a good time behind a bright smile that inversely reflected her disposition, she lapsed back into considering an idea that had been incubating in her mind since Kyza's rather boorish display of insensitivity earlier that morning. It was simple, really. If Kyza could be "selected" for some ambassador meeting or whatnot, then why not her as well? And especially if she showed genuine interest! Heck, she was just as qualified as anyone else—especially Kyra—to be put into Ranulf's special task-force.

And so she had determined to speak with Ranulf herself. With her training completed and duties being negligible for the rest of the day, the trick had then lain in catching Ranulf during one of his breaks.

Or in finding him, for that matter. Upon discovering his office empty and locked Lyre had henceforth conducted a half-hearted search of the castle grounds in hopes that she might stumble upon the Captain. It was one of those times when her relatively low status in the Gallian army proved to be rather irksome. Being only a foot soldier of no outstanding rank, Lyre found that many places she would have liked to check for the Captain were off-limits to her. She would have sneaked past the guards if she had been sure of a lead, but as things currently stood the success of such a venture seemed doubtful at best and backfireable at worst.

And with that second attempt of locating Ranulf trampled beneath the feet of military hierarchy, Lyre had found herself once more hopefully knocking at his office door, now more tired and cranky for her efforts. She'd be sure not to display either attitude should her hopes be not in vain.

But vain they were. After waiting for what seemed an eternity, Lyre had impulsively opened the door and stepped into the empty office, closing the door behind her quickly with a hollow thunk.

If she couldn't find him, then she'd just wait for him to find her.

She was sure that that must have been the reasoning, if any, behind her rash decision. But now that she stood in the middle of Ranulf's empty office, the entirety of her trespass set in. Her composure wavered. What was she doing?

But the decision was made and she was going to get what she wanted. Furrowing her brow to dispel some of her unease, Lyre strode on small, quiet feet across the pretty rug in the middle of the room and plopped herself into a low, simple couch against one of the side walls. As Ranulf was of high rank in the King's service, he was allowed more expansive quarters than other soldiers. His relatively small office size indicated that Ranulf had taken little, if any, advantage of these occupational perks. He deserves better all right, Lyre noted, her finger tracing the tribal patterns on her seat cushion. At least he took the couch.

She leaned back and crossed her heels nervously. What would she say? She had abandoned the tart enterprise completely after her run-in with Kyza and now had no handy conversational intro. Not that that was what the tarts had been for, of course…

"Ho-kay," she muttered to herself. Adopting a still quiet but perkier tone, she glanced up and focused on the mess of papers, books, candles, and decorations on Ranulf's desk.

"Hey, Captain! So, I heard you were…" She scowled. "No, no." She continued deliberately. "Captain Ranulf, I was looking all over for you!" Smile. Darn, that sounded a lot like something Kyza would say. Just not as stuffy.

Well, he always got what he wanted, so why not?

"You see, I was wondering if you could help me out. We've been at the capital for so long that I feel my… diplomatic skills have suffered from disuse." That sounded good. "And I heard about your trip in a few days and was wondering if maybe you could squeeze me in there, too? Pretty please?"

Silence. It felt odd to be talking to an empty room. Ranulf's empty room.

Lyre bit her lip. She had every right to be here, didn't she? This was work-related, after all.

Still…

"Grrrrr, stupid Kyza, this is all your fault!"

Lyre woke to voices.

Shooting upward with a start, the girl looked around frantically at her surroundings, hackles rising. It was dark outside of a spacious set of vaguely familiar windows, the stars twinkling gleeful laughter at her discomposure. There were no lights in her little room, and her feline eyes took a moment to adjust. And this was no bed, it was a couch. Where was she?

Oh, right. She must have catnapped...

It took some rapid blinking and a few startled heartbeats for the confusion to effectively drain from her mind. Then she remembered the voices. In momentary panic, she froze statue-still and strained her orange tabby ears. While the logical part of her brain was still making up for lost time, her instincts were well-honed and ready to propel her out of that window at a second's notice.

There was a lull in the conversation before the cat laguz could properly identify the voices. She held her breath.

Voice again. Ranulf's voice. Lyre felt herself relax, but only a little. If someone else were to show up, too… she did not even want to consider what could happen. Needless to say, her motives would be questionable. And what if Ranulf got angry?

She glowered fiercly. No no no no no! What was the matter with her? She would play it cool, it was cool. She had a legitimate reason to be here. Business. Ranulf would be delighted to see that she was interested in his military projects and it hardly mattered if the whole army showed up for all she cared. This was important! And she knew exactly what she was going to say. Ah, Captain Ranulf…!

What if the other person was Kyza?

Darn it, she was spacing out!

Ah, other voice.

It was… a girl?

For the span of a heartbeat, Lyre was too surprised to catch anything else. A cold heat washed over her body, starting at the top of her head and sweeping to the tip of her limp tail. What was he doing talking with a girl, especially this late?

…Well, sure, why not? Ranulf worked with girls. But he never talked with them much, not really. And not this late. He was so busy. She would know.

It was suddenly very important that Lyre discover who owned the female voice just outside of the closed office door.

It was also suddenly equally—well, almost equally—important that she inch closer to the window. The likelihood of Ranulf being happy to discover an eavesdropper was lessening with alarming speed. The swaying trees just outside looked more and more welcoming and it was only a two story drop to the ground below. No one would be the wiser if she was quiet enough. And if no guard patrolled nearby. She glanced apprehensively over her shoulder but could not detect any sound or movement through the tangle of leaves and branches.

The captain's voice drew her attention back to the conversation a few yards away. He sounded strangely open. Lyre listened attentively. The other voice seemed so familiar, but it was spoken in such low tones that its holder was indecipherable over her own spinning head and obnoxiously thundering heartbeat.

When she heard the tell-tale squeak of the doorknob, however, operation Harmless Eavesdropping met its untimely demise. With a reflexive jump, Lyre hoisted herself onto the window ledge and into the cool night air. It was probably nothing warranting concern anyway.

Besides, there would be time to discover necessary answers later in less incriminating fashions.

And then a clipped word registered in her mind. Lyre gave it little thought as she sailed smoothly through the night air and landed in a practiced crouch on mossy ground, no witnesses in sight. But in the stillness that followed, she froze with shock.

No one could so disparagingly articulate the term "idiot" quite like her sister just had.

When Lethe opened her front door and tiptoed quietly inside, she half expected Lyre to be nowhere in sight. And, sure enough, she was not.

Lethe relaxed a bit and made her way slowly up the stairs to the loft bedroom area she shared with her sister. Normally she ate a late dinner when upon arriving home from work, but she was understandably not hungry enough to fix a meal tonight.

The girl reached the top of the staircase and froze. There was Lyre after all, curled up with her back to the staircase and looking for all the world like she had gone to bed hours before. Well, sure. It was not like Lethe usually was out too late herself anyway. Stealth mode reactivated, she slid over to their shared chest of drawers to grope about for her nightshirt.

"You're back kinda late," Lyre's voice greeted from her bed. She did not sound sleepy.

"I thought you were asleep," Lethe grunted as she worked at her clothes.

"I was. You're as loud as a beorc in full armor."

Lethe slammed the drawer closed and was pleased to see Lyre jump a little and sit up in bed.

"You're such a brat!"

"And you're such an awful liar," Lethe muttered, pulling on her breezy nightwear.

"Oh yeah?" Lyre countered challengingly. "And where have you been?"

"I stayed late looking for you!"

"Sure you did," Lyre growled sulkily.

Lethe whirled on her, angry. "I did! And you were off who-knows-where, gamboling about without a care in the world. You didn't even check out!" Lyre opened her mouth but a hiss from Lethe momentarily silenced her. "So you just up and disappear without a word, we're in the middle of another pointless fight, and so I talked it out with Ranulf because he's good at listening! Happy now?"

Lethe had meant to lead up to whatever it was she had to say—heck, she had not even meant to mention the captain. But the words just seemed to pour out. Summed up so neatly, the whole experience sounded much more mundane than she had remembered it.

Lyre stared. She felt unaccountably relieved. "You don't have to worry about me, you know."

"I wasn't worried," Lethe corrected her quickly. "I didn't want you to do something stupid."

Lyre hoped Lethe could not see her face redden in the dark. "I'm not an idiot kid, Lethe! We're the same age, though you seem to forget that all the time!"

The other girl snorted tellingly in reply, kicking her clothes into a heap by the dresser. She climbed into her own bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering if she was going to get any sleep. Physically she was exhausted, but her emotions bounced about like cubs at a swimming hole.

"Well, I'm not," Lyre emphasized again.

"Yeah, and what was that little episode about earlier in my office?"

Lyre remained rigidly upright, relief replaced by a throbbing sense of injustice rejuvenated by her sister's words. "Your fault, too!"

"Look, do you want to talk about it or not?"

When Lyre did not reply, her sister turned to look at her. The girl seemed troubled.

"Lyre?"

"No."

Lethe snorted again. "Suit yourself."

"I mean, you wouldn't understand."

Whether her sister was just exhausted—and therefore loose-lipped—or if something weighed particularly heavy on her Lethe did not know. Either way, the girl sounded ready to talk and this was a step in the right direction. "Maybe not, but you can try me."

Another long pause, and then Lyre's voice rose tentatively from the darkness. "Am I a good soldier?"

"Of course. You proved yourself in the last war." Lethe felt a bit indignant, and asked quickly, "Did someone tell you you're not?"

"No, not in so many words…" she trailed off. "Sometimes I just feel underappreciated, like I could be doing more."

"Oh?" Lethe was sure there must have been a particular reason for this feeling. She was also pretty sure Lyre would not share the whole story. "Is this about Kyza again?"

"A little, I guess," the girl settled into her covers.

"I swear, you two could find a reason to fight if the world was perfect."

"He's insufferable," Lyre pointed out tartly. "But it's not just him. Lethe?"

"Yeah?"

"Does Ranulf hate me?"

Lethe's eyes snapped open and she turned toward her sister. Where had that come from? "What? Not that I know of. Why would he?"

Lyre frowned. "'Not that you know of?' What's that supposed to mean?"

"I can't read his mind, Lyre, geez. Of course he doesn't hate you. What's this all about?"

Lyre shrugged vaguely as an unexpected smile spread across her face. She laughed. "You're not very encouraging sometimes, you know that?"

Lethe smiled, too. "Just trying to be realistic. In an encouraging way. Or something like that."

Lyre giggled again. "Hey, you remember that time when we were little and I got that blister?"

"What? How'd I remember something like that?"

"Well, I do," Lyre bit her lip to keep from laughing again. "And when I asked you how to make them get better?"

"No," Lethe stated bluntly.

"You took one look at it, ripped it clean off, and said," at this point, Lyre adopted a gruff-sounding male voice, "'Toughen up!' Just like that."

Lethe grinned. She could imagine herself doing just that, too. "Preparing you to be a world-class warrior. You need to start young."

"Aww, come on, you were brutal!"

"Practical, darling sister."

It was Lyre's turn to snort. "So… you don't think he hates me? Or dislikes me? Or thinks I'm useless?"

"No. I don't." Sometimes Lethe doubted Ranulf's ability to properly judge others. He could be far too forgiving.

"Hmmm. Okay then."

Lethe heard covers sifting again as Lyre made herself comfortable, then the sound of heavy breathing a few minutes later. The girl must really have been tired, Lethe mused. She doubted that she would drop off so quickly, though it was a weight off her shoulders to know that Lyre's malcontent was not longer directed at her.

Well, as much as it had been earlier.

And perhaps their argument had mostly died during the course of their recent conversation as well. It occurred to her that there was always some sort of bad blood between them at any given time. As she listened to the steady drone of her sister's breathing, however, it also occurred to Lethe that life would be pretty dull without Lyre, drama queen temper tantrums and all.