Author's Note: I haven't decided if this will e A/J or A/G, but it will probably be A/J 'cause I love it!!!

George shook his head. "She's a plucky lass, that one," he said to no one in particular. He sat down at his desk and wrote a quick message to her, ignoring the din of the Dancing Dove on the floor below.

Alanna,

Although it is tempting for me to let you to join the rogue, I have to say no. I don't want to be in charge of ruining your future. I know you'll fume when you read this letter, but I want you to know that you can stay at the Dancing Dove as long as you want. I just don't want you to become a thief and ruin your good name.

-George

He scanned the letter one last time before rolling it up and attaching it to a snowy white messenger bird and sent it out the window.

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"Since when has George worried about my good name?" Alanna demanded. Faithful blinked and resumed his grooming. "It's not as though I actually want it. Come on Faithful. I need to go cool off."

Alanna strode out of the room, complete with breeches, and moved off to the practice courts. "You know what Faithful?" she ranted. "I don't care if anyone sees me. What do I have to lose? I don't care anymore. I don't care about anything."

What about your brother? Faithful pointed out. Alanna grimaced. Faithful always knew how to catch her.

"He has enough friends. He doesn't need me. Half the time I wonder if he still knows I exist, the way he goes off with friends. He ignores me." Alanna knew she was being harsh, but she didn't care.

She moved to the archery courts and selected a longbow that was as stiff as the Provost himself. Then she strung the bow and selected an arrow, hitting the target dead on. Once she had hit the bull's eye with the remaining arrows, she stomped over to the target and yanked out her arrows. As she resumed her shooting, Alanna heard a voice that sent a chill up her spine.

"I didn't know they taught archery at the convent."

"They don't." Alanna turned around to face the man, and almost mistook him for Prince Jon, but for his slightly lighter hair and almost malicious expression. He curled his lip.

"Then how, pray, did you learn? For you are good, quite good. I mistook you for a boy at first, although most of them tend to keep their hair shorter," he said, gesturing at her waist length hair that was in a long braid down her back.

"Who are you, anyway?" Alanna demanded, in no mood to be polite. If she had ever had any instincts, it was now, and they were telling her to run away at once and not let this man know anything about her. And so, of course, curiosity made her stay.

"Forgive, lady, for not introducing myself. I am Duke Roger of Conté. And who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

She sighed. "I'm Alanna. Look, I have a meeting in the city, so if you will excuse me?"

Alanna swept past him. "Wait, my Lady!" he called.

She whirled around, almost causing him to bump into her. "What!?" she snarled.

"You left your purse, Lady Alanna," the Duke said, looking amused.

Alanna colored slightly. "Thank you," she said shortly.

She moved to Moonlight's stables and grabbed her mare, not bothering to put on a saddle ar bridle. She galloped to the forest, wanting to think and cool off undisturbed. She had just entered when something hit her head and everything went black.

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Thom was reading a history book when Coram came in. "Thom..."

"Hmmm?" asked Thom absently, deep in the wars of Scanran battle tactics a century before.

"Thom, I think you'll want to listen to this."

Thom peered over the top of his book. "Can it wait, Coram? I'm in the middle of translating an old Scanran code in this book."

"Lad, I think you'll find that it can't wait," said Coram. "You see, your sister seems to be missing."

Thankee, everyone who reviewed!!!!!!!!!! More be coming.