Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Aw, no guesses. Oh, well. If I'm not struck by an idea, I'll probably just go without a side-story. Probably easier that way. Of course, if you guys want to suggest something, I'm always open to ideas.

I liked writing this one. I liked it almost as much as writing one of the ones that's coming up in the future. Anyways, as always, tell me what you think. Enjoy!

#25 – Dove

Lyn's smile twitched, and only the disapproving glare of Reissman kept her from kicking the oaf in front of her somewhere unpleasant. After an extremely long argument, finally won by an exclamation in front of her grandfather that the chancellor was trying to suppress her heritage, Reissman had done her a favor by not insisting she wear one of those ridiculous ball gowns, but allowing her to wear Sacaen formal garb. If she aggravated him, nothing would throw him off stuffing her into one of those fabric prisons. "Really, Lord Layhan?" she said slowly, teeth gritted. "I had no idea."

"Oh, it's well known, my dear," the man said, ignoring her stronger grip on his arm. "The ladies of the court should in no way hold any position of power. It is noble of you to play along with your grandfather and assume the position of the strong, Sacaen heir, but when he dies, you should give good thought to who you marry. After all, the throne of Caelin depends on your husband and his heir."

"Lord Layhan." Kent's tone was clipped as he approached the two of them. "I believe that your brother was asking for you. He awaits you in the dining hall." With one final "Remember what I said!" the man broke off his dance with Lyn departed.

Lyn blinked at the newly-appointed Knight Commander, dressed in formal wear. "They made you get dressed up for this?"

"Unfortunately, the Knight Commander is required to attend these functions as dressed up as they can make him," Kent said drily. "Lord Layhan is one of the most…outspoken nobles in the Lycian League. If nothing else, his continued survival will speak volumes to the rest of the guests. Shall I escort you to a seat, milady? I believe that several other lords have requested the pleasure of your company…"

"Are they anything like that bigot?" Lyn asked. As Kent bit his lip, she sighed. "I can't take this. I really can't, Kent. If I have to listen to any more about ladies being the 'gentle doves' of the court, I'll cut someone's head off. I'm surprised none of the other ladies have done so, yet."

"As satisfying as it might be as an outlet for tension, proving the nobles right about your so-called 'barbaric heritage' can only lead to difficulties in the future," Kent remarked, before glancing to Reissman. "In light of your feelings, it would probably be best for you to depart before Lord Layhan finds out that his brother did not send for him." As Lyn started, surprised, Kent beckoned the chancellor over.

"Lady Lyndis is feeling somewhat faint," Kent informed the man. "Although it is unfortunate, she will retire for the night." Reissman threw a disbelieving look at Lyn. Even though he had only known the girl for a couple of months, both of them knew that she was not the kind of person to beg off her duties because of a headache. Lyn smiled weakly as she took Kent's proffered arm. "I…apologize for the trouble?"

Reissman sighed. "I shall convey your excuses to the assembled guests. Perhaps you could recover from your malady before the dancing ends?"

"I'll do my best, Reissman," Lyn promised. She and Kent strode out of the ballroom before she relaxed, releasing his arm. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, milady." Kent looked distinctly uncomfortable. "If that lout had continued to insult you and Lord Hausen, I'm not sure what I would have done."

Lyn frowned. "Insult Grandfather? He wasn't exactly subtle about insulting me, but how would his remarks…oh. He's saying that Grandfather is foolish for naming me as his heir, isn't he?" At Kent's nod, her look darkened. "I'll kill him. I'll go to the dining room and kill him now."

"I must beg you to reconsider, milady," Kent said. "Disregarding the fact that we just left the ballroom so you wouldn't do anything of the sort, the servants would be mortified at having to wash out bloodstains from the tablecloths." When the joke did nothing to abate her anger, Kent sighed. "Murdering your guests is bad form, milady. Despite the insults, your Grandfather would not be pleased at all if you killed Lord Layhan."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Lyn demanded. "Am I just supposed to stand there and let him insult Grandfather? I refuse to merely smile and nod at those comments, like those simpering doves that that oaf talks of!"

"Nor should you," Kent replied. "If you suggest that he is insulting his host and he does not refute it, then that is grounds to throw him out." They had reached Lyn's room by now, and the girl blinked as they continued on past it. "What are we doing?" she asked.

Kent gestured to the training grounds, near which Lyn had insisted on having her room. "I know I am no substitute for Lord Layhan, but if it contributes to keeping him alive until he rides across our borders tomorrow, I will do my best to take his place." Kent walked straight to a weapons rack and took down two practice swords, handing one to Lyn.

"But won't this ruin your clothes?" Lyn asked, remembering all the fuss the servants had made when she had muddied the hem of one of the dresses.

"I will probably be called on to more functions like this in the future," Kent said, although he did take off the embroidered tunic he wore over his shirt. "If anyone complains, I will tell them I was practicing being able to defend the marquess despite what I was wearing."

"That's not a bad excuse," Lyn mused as she and Kent began to warm up. "Do you think that I'll be able to use it in the near future, as well?"

"Perhaps," Kent said, before he finished stretching, moving over to the other side of the courtyard. As Lyn finished, he remarked, offhand, "You know, I never quite understood the likening of doves to peace."

"Oh?" Lyn asked, curious. "Why is that?"

"Have you ever seen an enraged dove, milady?" Kent asked mildly. "It hesitates not in attacking with both beak and claws. A few years ago, Sain tried to raise one, and got nothing but scratches for his trouble."

"Sain, raising doves? I find that hard to believe," Lyn commented. Kent wasn't given a chance to rebut, though, as Lyn brought her sword up into the 'ready' position and he copied. As they flew at each other, all thoughts of the ill-mannered Lord Layhan and his poor comparison left Lyn.