Liam enters the Chamber of the Ordeal the morning of the third day. Lianne stands with her family in the chapel, quiet and docile, and lets out a relieved sigh when Liam leaves the Chamber alive — with bloody hands and dull eyes, but alive. She is mildly surprised (when did this happen?) when he stumbles right by her and their parents into the arms of a dazed Rose of Trebond.

Leaving her parents staring at the couple, she slips out of the chapel and walks slowly to her room. So Liam is allowed to love who he likes, because he's a boy, is that it? Of course it is, oh Lianne, it's different for men, you know that.

It's a waste of her time to dwell on it — the world isn't fair and that's that, and nothing Lianne can say will change anything.

She changes into a more lavish gown for the celebration and ball that will occur later, both for Midwinter and Liam's Ordeal. She opens her door to leave.

"Lianne!" Her father and mother are standing in front of her. Her father's face is tense (this is how he looked when Kally — but she can't finish that thought.).

"Yes?" she says. Her parents exchange a glance and her father speaks.

"Lianne. We didn't want to bring this up when you were so worried about Liam, but we've—"

Thayet interrupts him. "We've found a good match for you. The crown prince of Maren. You're to be formally betrothed sometime this month."

A moment of silence (her ears are ringing, and oh gods, Maren's crown prince is the one at least forty years old) and Lianne finds her voice, and it is distant, cold, strange — not at all her own.

"You tell me this when you have already made your decision, and arrangements are already completed?"

It is her mother who answers. "What do you mean? You know we've been looking for a good marriage for you. It's your duty. We thought you understood that, and your sister—"

"Kally had a choice in who she married," Lianne says, in the voice that does not belong to her. "She could veto her matches, and she ended up with a nice, young man."

"No, you remember, don't you? Kalasin got that choice because she gave up her dream for her duty, but you..." Jon trails off.

It is obvious what he means. You didn't have dreams, Lianne dear, oh no, surely not. You are a perfectpolitemodestdutiful princess, and how could you have any desires but those of your country and your people?

Lianne gets the message. "Oh, didn't I?" Her father opens his mouth, but Lianne continues.

"Don't you think I might have dreams too? That I might want to do something with my life other than marry, become a queen? No, duty comes first, and we all know that's what I'm for. Betroth me to whoever you want. After all, duty is duty, isn't it, and who needs a daughter?"

"Don't you talk to your father like that," Thayet says, faltering slightly.

Lianne bobs a curtsey. "Of course, your majesties," she says in a sickly sweet voice that is clearly mocking. "If you'll excuse me—"

She leaves them standing in her doorway, and she does not look back.

-:-

She considers looking for Lerant but she does not know where to start and wandering randomly around Corus would be unproductive and possibly dangerous and even if she did find him, what would she say?

(Oh hello Lerant, I had a fight with my parents and I'm engaged now, to a prince, and someday I'll be queen of a country I've never even seen, and did I mention I'm a princess?)

Maybe she should leave. Run away, far away, where it doesn't matter that she is a princess, where she makes the decisions, right or wrong. But no, that's ridiculous. Where would she go? She would be likely to die in the wilderness or be murdered in some dark alley or get sick of peasant life and come home, especially without a plan or supplies or anything.

Instead, she goes to the stables. She doesn't give a second's thought to the intricate gown, a ride will clear her head and that is what she needs. Never mind that a clear head won't help her predicament anyway — she will still be betrothed and angry and soso scared (oh Lianne) — but she does not think of that, for what is the point?

It is the middle of the day and it is not terribly cold and she enjoys the quiet for a while as she rides. Her horse, appropriately named Heiress, is a good one. Pretty enough for parades but hardy enough for fairly long rides in the woods and mild combat.

Heiress's ears prick forward and a few minutes later, she hears voices and reins in her horse, peering intently through the trees. The horse is calm, so the people are probably friendly (but would you be willing to bet your life on that, Lianne?).

She sees a flash of silver and blue on a very tall man with coal-black hair and screeches in a very unprincess-like manner. "Uncle Raoul!" she cries out, and he jumps (a very interesting sight, since he is mounted).

"Lianne?"

-:-

Third Company is riding right outside the city. Raoul has declared that they might as well get some fun in before the balls start in earnest. Lerant rolls his eyes as Wolset tells an elaborate tale involving a swooning lady and him as the dashing savior. It's a good story, but Wolset is known for embellishing tales so an ordinary day of riding becomes a saving-maiden-from-dragon account.

"Lianne?" His head snaps up. That was Raoul's voice, but their commander has disappeared around a corner. Wolset pauses and exchanges a baffled look with Lerant.

"What's going on?" Wolset asks, puzzled, but Lerant just shakes his head. They ride about the turn and Lerant takes in a sharp breath.

Raoul has stopped in the middle of the trail and much of the company is bunched around him. There is a woman on a horse facing him, and—

And—

The woman has long dark hair and a (much too) familiar face and—

And—

And he cannot think for a moment, because this is so out of place (something is wrong about this picture) but the little voice in his head doesn't care what he's feeling and informs him in a smart voice that he does, in fact, recognize this woman.

"Lia?" he blurts before he can shut his mouth, and both her head and Raoul's twist toward him and oh gods, he hopes this is a dream (but he knows it's not) and he's doomed.

-:-

So he is a soldier after all. The thought shoots into her mind as she meets his brown eyes. Like it matters now, focus Lianne, Uncle Raoul's looking at you again.

"Lerant?" asks a disoriented Raoul. "What's going on?"

"Milord—"

"Nothing at all, Uncle Raoul," she says smoothly. "I know Lerant through his sister, Adrienn. A lovely girl, have you met her?"

Raoul gives her an incredulous look. She supposes her story isn't backed very well by Lerant's gaping mouth.

"Er, no," he says deliberately. "What are you doing out here, Lianne?"

Her eyes flicker to Lerant. "Going for a ride."

"Without an escort? It's much too dangerous for a princess—"

So this is how it ends, she thinks suddenly, and closes her eyes and hangs her head. It's too much. She will have to marry a prince and go far away and rule a country and somehow she has been counting on Lerant, the one person who truly cares (even a little) about her. Not her duty or her crown or her parents or anything, her.

With her closed eyes, it is dark and she can imagine none of this is happening. But it is, and she can still hear Raoul talking so she opens her eyes (what's the point of pretending?), but she does not look up.

"—And princesses—"

"Wait, what?" That's Lerant, she's sure.

She focuses on Heiress's mane.

Raoul's tone is slow and confused. "What do you mean, what? She should know better, it's not like this is anything new—"

"No, I mean what do princesses have to do with it?"

He doesn't get it? Maybe she can save this — but Raoul's here. She glances up and meets Raoul's muchtooknowing gaze, and it's too late and she's sure he understands and Goddess.

"It's part of our job to keep you safe," he says, ignoring Lerant and looking straight at Lianne. "Don't make it more difficult than it needs to be." He whistles and the dazed members of Third Company shake themselves and back their horses into a more orderly formation.

"Right," she says, still avoiding Lerant's penetrating look, "I'll see you at the ball then," she adds, and he snorts.

"Of course, your highness," he says mockingly, and sweeps a bow from atop Drum. He freezes for an instant on his way up. Goddess indeed.

"Highness?" Lerant echoes quietly. She adds a string of colorful (very unprincessly) curses in her mind.

Raoul sends Lianne a pointed look and rides past. As he passes he leans toward her and says quietly, "Take all the time you need." He continues toward Corus and most of the company follows, some of them unabashedly gaping at Lianne and Lerant, including a dark-haired man she recognizes as a Masbolle.

"So," he starts.

"Lerant, please don't—" She is abruptly frantic and there is a lump in her throat and her eyes are stinging. She can't continue this (you are betrothed, remember that you must do your dutydutyduty Lianne) but she doesn't want to (can't) lose Lerant's regard or his respect.

He sighs. "Look at me."

She does. She can't read his face at all.

"You said once," he says, and swallows hard. "You said once that you thought people were people, and that family shouldn't change perceptions."

"Yes," she agrees. What is he trying to say?

"Do you still feel that way?" he asks.

"Of course I do. Er—why?"

"Because I'm not one to judge you," he says flatly. "It would be hypocritical of me to be angry. I didn't tell you anything about me either."

"What do you mean?" She is suddenly petrified that he is married. Call it paranoid, but wouldn't it be just like everything else in her life?

"I'm Lerant of Eldorne. Delia is my aunt."

"Oh." she says. Then she laughs. He gives her an are-you-crazy look as she doubles over on Heiress's saddle.

"What's funny?" he asks suspiciously.

"It's just," she giggles, "I wish I could visit Delia in prison, just to see her face when she hears this."

He snorts. "Yes, I'm living the dream of a psychotic traitoress, being friends with Conte royalty..." he stops himself.

Right, she's a princess. Lianne immediately stops laughing. Betrothed. Yes.

"Lerant, there's something else you should know..."