A/N: Wow, I haven't updated this fic… in years. Literally. I'm sorry. My explanation…. Truth be told, I forgot that this fic actually existed. And I also wasn't aware that I had this many reviewers… 121. Wow. Really. I had to reread it and get back to what my original plan for it was.

Chapter Eight: Breech

Title: Revenge

By: DarkDracon0

Kel spent the day with most of the Yamani ladies, chatting about gossip and this knight and this noble and oh wasn't he just charming, even for an Easterner… In other words, she was bored out of her mind. She considered briefly on hiding in her room, but Laine was there and they weren't exactly on the best of terms. So thus was how she ended up with the ladies. And she could only smile and nod and rejoice silently when the evening dinner bell rang.

There was another ball. When Laine spotted her walking in the corridor, she had dragged Kel back to their room and told Kel in a clipped voice to get undressed. Kel obeyed meekly and Laine helped her put the dress on. Once the dress was on, Laine also dressed her hair and picked out the jewelry that was appropriate for the dress. Though Laine did not utter anything other than orders, Kel knew that Laine had at least somewhat forgiven her for her slight misstep of the morning.

Kel walked slowly to the ballroom, enjoying the silence of the castle. As she approached the door, Joren also appeared around a corner. Neither saw the other before they got to the door. Kel struggled not to laugh at the sight of the bruise blooming quite beautifully under his chin. He glared at her, blue eyes looking almost comically insulted. She took a moment to look at him again. He was quite handsome, even beautiful, in his evening attire though the sour look contrasted deeply with it. Then he sighed and offered his arm, smiling slightly. "May I have the honor of escorting you, my lady?"

Kel blinked in surprise before accepting. "Of course." They entered the room together and stopped momentarily to allow the herald to announce them.

"Sir Joren of Stone Mountain escorting the Countess of Cebris!" A few heads turned, looking at the handsome couple before turning back to what they were doing. "How is that chin, Sir Joren?"

He resisted the urge to touch it. "Fine. Just dandy."

"It's not very noticeable. Though I'm sure people will question you about it."

Silence.

"Does it hurt to talk?"

"Yes. Thanks to you." He managed the wince that threatened to show on his face. "Dance?" He didn't wait for a response. He took her to the center of the room. As they passed by, several people stared, and were even brave enough to comment on Joren's bruise after he had passed. He would have snarled at them, only if his chin didn't feel like it was on fire. Kel saw this and wisely kept her amusement to herself.

Upon reaching the dance floor, he slipped a hand on to her waist and raised the other before they began to waltz. He dances well, Kel mused. But then again, he was always the golden boy out of all the others that had been taught under Lord Wyldon. The memory of Lord Wyldon brought a frown. She wondered if he was still the training master.

Joren gracefully led her through the dance until it ended. Most of the dancers and their partners separated and left the dance floor, but a few lovebirds stayed. If he was a gentleman and truly virtuous, he would lead the lovely Araine off the floor and allow her to dance with someone else. If he was not, he would have her dance with him again.

He was not feeling particularly nice to her tonight.

Her eyebrows went up when Joren didn't let go of her hand and waist. "Sir Joren, I believe etiquette demands that you allow me to leave," she started.

He gave her a look that would have curdled water. The music started again and she resignedly allowed him to lead her through another dance.

Once that dance was also finished, he finally let of her. "Thank you, milady."

She smiled. "It must truly and painfully hurt for you to say that. I appreciate it, sir knight. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

He nodded in turn and left for the wine table. A true man, Kel said silently to herself. She accepted another dance from a young hopeful with stars in his eyes.

As soon as the dance was done, she thanked the young knight, who had chattered to her about his accomplishments throughout the duration of the dance. He immediately found another lady to dance with once she bid him good night.

She spotted Joren glowering in a corner and matchmaking mamas eyeing him with predatory looks. Other ladies were giving him similar looks and Kel almost felt sorry for him. Almost. She waved at him.

He bared his teeth back in a snarl.

Aw. She smiled back.

Joren could feel all the eyes of seasoned matchmakers on him and nearly shuddered. No longer was he a man or person; no, he was now a prize.

Mithros help me, he thought silently.

And then he spotted her. Just looking at her made his chin ache in memory. He resisted the urge to rub at it.

She waved gaily, obviously enjoying herself from that distance. He wished that she was here, in front of him, just long enough for him to wrap his hands around her pretty white neck and squeeze. He wouldn't squeeze too hard. Only enough to make her turn blue.

Alas, he didn't blame her for it. He had challenged her and fair was fair.

His hands twitched.

But he could fantasize.

Suddenly, the night didn't seem all that bad.

Kel rubbed at her temple, tired and weary. The party had gone well; if being bored and overheated was some sadistic-minded person's idea of well, then it went very well. Joren of Stone Mountain did not approach her again, nor did anyone of interest. Neal of Queenscove had spotted her and asked for a dance, though she could tell that he was rather enamored with one of the Princess's ladies, Lady Yukimi. She felt no alarm bells go off in her head as he asked about the Yamani Islands and her interests.

Afterwards, she had spent the night wandering through the crowd, effectively eavesdropping in on conversations that may suggest any news or rumors about the Red Dragon. Again, there was no sign of anything that anyone might know and she was relieved that plans were proceeding smoothly.

Now all she had to do was wait.

She almost reached her door until she felt a hand grip her arm. Or the hand would have gripped her arm had she not turned, grabbed the wrist of her would-be assailant and twisted it back. She knew the corridor was empty, but quickly glanced around to make sure there was nobody watching.

"My lady." His voice was soft so that it did not carry through the corridor or let anyone in their rooms hear. Kel let go of him and quickly opened her door, dragging him inside. She closed the door quietly behind her and locked it before moving to a drawer and taking out a small crystal, spelled against eavesdroppers and negated any present listening spells. She had picked it up during the time she went to the marketplace.

She finally faced Harik. "What on earth were you thinking, meeting me like that in plain view?!"

Laine entered the room through the screen door connecting both their rooms. Her eyes sharpened when she saw Harik.

"Why are you here? Have you news that is so urgent enough for you to meet us here?"

Harik yanked the wool cap off his head. "Of course. It is most urgent. It seems that our Lord's anonymity has been breached."

Kel stiffened. "Speak. Now."

"Someone has been asking around in the city, especially in the underground parts, where information can be bought. They've been asking about the syndicate. I've contacts who confirm this. They've seen the exchange. I've already sent a message to our Lord. He should provide us with new orders to accommodate this new player."

Kel sighed. "How soon?"

"Within the hour."

"Do you think anyone in the palace suspects? Perhaps he was ordered by the king or his spymaster."

"Perhaps. I am looking into it. I will have more information later."

Laine crossed her arms. "I do not doubt what you have gathered so far. Is the syndicate in any danger?"

Harik shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. We've kept ourselves well hidden and I doubt this man can find anything of use about the syndicate. However, if he does dig further and find something, our reserve plan must be put into place. You are both aware of it?"

"Or course. How is the state of affairs in the palace so far?" Kel asked.

"It is all quiet. The servants speak of nothing, but the Grand Progress and my listening spells in the council room have not revealed anything new. I will place a new listening spell in the king's study once I have finished finding a way to null other protective spells inside. It is be difficult, but it is nearly done."

Laine nodded approvingly. "And how was the party?"

Kel shrugged. "Nothing of interest."

"The same when I was there," Harik said.

"Has he found anything of importance?"

"I need to look further, but I do not believe so."

"Then all is going to plan."

"Did you happen to see the man? The one who is asking about us."

Harik scratched his head. "I did not see him, but my contacts say he is fairly well-known in the city. A knight of the realm, I believe."

"A knight? Strange, I thought detective work was for the Lord Provost."

Harik shrugged nonchalantly. "I find it hard to believe as well. Most knights are up north or helping to prepare the rest of the realm for the Grand Progress. He could be acting under directs orders of a higher council. That is unlikely, but still a possibility."

"Knights are not known for their investigative skills. However, it is still urgent all the same. Every breach such as this can be prevented before it explodes in our faces. Excellent work, spy," Laine said.

Harik bowed his head. "All who work faithfully and loyally for our Lord need not praise from him, but only his guardianship as the head of our syndicate. I will keep in contact once I have received orders." He left quietly.

Kel rubbed at her head again. "Nothing too bad, at least. The party was a bore. Help me get out of these clothes, will you?"

Laine complied. "I wonder who this fool knight is. No matter, he shall be taken care of."

"Yes. He will be."

King Jonathan III sat in his private study, reading the reports of activity in the Scanran-Tortallan border. The war was escalating into something more than what he needed now. Bad timing was all it was and a couple of stupid, overfed Scanran warlords, he thought crossly. He tapped his fingers against the hardwood of his desk. For now, all he could do was wait for the next Scanran move. He didn't want the Emperor to think that the Princess was in danger in a warring realm. Nor could he send any more troops; he needed them for the Grand Progress and to protect the visiting ladies as well as the nobles traveling with them.

Jon muttered a curse. He took a sip of wine from the glass sitting upon his desk. Then he heard a knock on his door. "Enter."

Joren strolled in, showing no signs of respect or rank for his king. "You called?"

Jon waved for him to sit down. "Did you enjoy the party?"

"I enjoyed it as much as a bite from a rabid dog."

Jon glanced at him. "Good to see that your attitude toward social functions hasn't changed. I want your report."

Joren stretched, yawning. "Well, I finally got something worth working around for. It wasn't boring at least."

"Glad to hear it. Your report."

"Right. From what I've gathered, the Red Dragon syndicate hasn't died or faded away. It's still much alive and with increased activity. They got pretty much nothing on Rathor, but I'm still looking into it. People are still shaking in their boots when they hear his name, so I'm going to need a little financial help with that."

Jon raised a brow. "Financial help?"

Joren propped his legs up on the edge of the desk. "Yeah. It's a lot faster if I've got gold nobles falling out of my pockets. I'm not paying for it. I'm serving the Crown, remember? I act as an extension of you in this investigation."

Jon shook his head. "I'd love to meet your sources. They'll get rich to save their own king's hide."

"And some like gold more than their king. One of the world's greatest mysteries, eh?"

A/N: I hoped you enjoyed this latest installment of Revenge. Read and review because without it, I'll wither away and die. Suggestions to where this story may go are open as are criticism.