Disclaimer: Ok...plot and a few characters are mine. But the overall universe is unfortunately not mine, but Tamora Pierce's.
Title: Ghost of the Past
Author: winky-wink
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama
Rating: T (Just to be safe)
Pairing: A/J...it fits with the time setting.
Musical Affection: 'The nobodies' by Marilyn Manson.
Author's Note: Confusedknight: Ahah...I could totally tell you were hyper. Anyways, yay he is free. And all is happy...for now.
Rosemary's Granddaughter: Aww...well that's great. Lol...I'll tell you what...I never plot out my stories...I just get lucky haha. Hmm...hallucinations? Interesting...anyways, I'll see if I tell Lincoln's Shang story...who knows.
charlie and lola: Yeah I guess so. Unless lots of people really hate it.
Kokari: I did update...I guess you didn't get it 'cause of the problems at Yup, I liked it too. OoO...cool play the cello? I play nothing...((sad face))...Anyways, yes it is really stupid but I kind of imitated what happened to Joren and Kel in their case. My natural hair color is black too but my mom won't let me dye it 'cause she thinks I'll go bald if I do...crazy I know.
Saphron: Unfortunately life catches up with me and prevents me from updating everyday lol.
Queen Alanna of conte: Hehe...I'll save what he wanted to say for a surprising time.
dreamsofserenity: Yeah, if only they knew...then Alex would probably be hanged on Traitor's Hill or something lol.
WitchyMage: Lol...I'm glad you liked that quote. Yup, if only Roger knew he got his own cousin raped. Haha...oh and the Alanna and Jon part comes later. And thanks!
CrystallineX: Thanks. I hope it does seem like something that sort of fills in what we've been told in little detail.
elsepthana: Yeah, I liked that quote too. Especially when you imagine them acting like they hate each other. And it was no problem reviewing your story. I have got free time on my hands.
Lady Knight: Yup, shure. You're right to think Lincoln is another key player in the series of events.
RumorGoddess: Haha, ok. Don't worry other people are wondering what he wanted to say too. Hmm...but I can't promise that it'll be in this chapter.
FanFictionFanthom: Hey, thanks! Anyways, I didn't expect to write a full out trial chapter either but it somehow came out that way! lol
kristina: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you all around.
epobbp: Yeah, he should've. That's life. It's a bitch lol.
'Is eavesdropping as bad as it sounds? C'mon. They're in your thoughts. You're in their bushes. It all evens out'-Jim Benton
Alanna realized she was extremely tired. For the past week she had reverted back to being a squire full on and it was rather tiring and physically challenging after pretending to be a noble lady. Not that she wasn't very, very glad to be back doing what she loved. Oh no, she'd be a squire over a noble lady anyday. But some of the difficulties were killing her, like getting up early and tuning up her swordplay. On the other hand, Etiquette Master had given her a standing ovation for the biggest improvement he'd seen in years.
After a strenuous practice in archery, she began to make her way back to her chambers to wash up before beginning her homework. Douglass and Geoffery were probably already snug in the library commencing their maths. Her Archery Master had made her stay back to help him retrieve used arrows since he seemed to particularly enjoy picking on small Squire Alan.
Growling at her bad luck, she decided to take a short cut to her chambers through the Rose Walk, a mildly disused pathway in the Palace gardens. Usually squires were not permitted to use normal paths since a sweaty, dusty, young noble was not the most appealing sight for the glamorous regulars of the paths. However, everyone else was probably preparing for their evening tea, which left Alanna free to sneak away.
Trotting at a quick pace, Alanna bit off the tip of a rather long nail. She smoothed the ragged ridges of the nail over with her other nail and hardly noticed which direction she was going in. She knew the Palace so well by now, she could've found her way around if she was blindfolded and gagged. Stepping onto the Rose Walk, Alanna was practically overwhelmed by the scent of roses. The perfume of it came in heavily around her, suffocating her.
The Rose Walk was famous for its wide array of roses. Pink roses, yellow roses, violet roses, white roses, and most of all, red roses. The overlapped one another, hiding the sharp thorns underneath. These particular roses had been enchanted by Carthaki mages long ago as a peace gift to Tortall in the time of King Jasson so that they lived even through the winter. The Lioness couldn't help but admire them also, even though she knew she ought to go on. Faithful would surely scold her for not starting her homework earlier...
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Muffled voices.
The Lady Squire broke out of her stupor and looked up. Coming down the path, arm-in-arm, were Duke Roger and Lady Catherine. Feeling instantly unsafe, Alanna debated her current situation. She could run, that was for sure. But that would only notify her Aunt and her enemy of her prescence. Or, she could hide away and perhaps go completely undetected?
Alanna scruntinized the large bush in front of her, all red roses. Surely it had thorns, but should she worry about that now? Hesitating for a second longer, the Lioness pushed her way into the bush, careful not to make too much noise while doing so. The bush rustled, but Roger and Catherine were oblivious since they were so deep in talks.
Once inside the bush, the Trebond checked herself for cuts. Her skin was pierced by the prickly thorns in quite a few places, but it was nothing that she, herself, couldn't heal later on. And, she learned that if she stayed near the central stem of the bush and a gap between its other branches, she was out of the danger of getting scratched, needlessly. However, her torn cloak was not something she could fix as easily.
To her great annoyance, she had a cut in the flab of useless skin between her fingers. To hurt the most of all the wounds and she attempted it stop its flow. She swiped the blood away but a new bead only formed. Frowning, she squeezed the cut but that didn't help either. Sighing, restlessly, she just let it bleed and trickle while she waited for the Duke of Conte and Lady Catherine to pass on by.
Unfortunately, they didn't. Instead Roger stopped their walk right in front of Alanna's own bush!
"Are these roses not lovely, my lady?" he asked, softly, to Catherine.
"They are the most beautiful I have ever seen, Duke Roger," Catherine agreed.
"Did you know these particular red roses grow only near the mountains? Like those of your home fief of Trebond?" Roger stated, glancing at her over his shoulder.
"Is that so? Strange, I don't recognize them," Alanna's Aunt responded, clutching her emerald intwined cloak closer to her since it was the dead of winter.
"Many things from Trebond become unrecognizable," the Duke of Conte replied, his voice steely. Alanna shivered.
'Does he know my secret?' she thought, perilously.
"And see these these thorns? They look dull but they are sharper than most," Roger explained, "When you first seem these Trebond roses, you think they will not be a challenge. But they are, oh they are."
He held a rose, still attached to Alanna's bush, inbetween his leather gloved hand. He seemed to admire its beauty. Lady Catherine's eyes darted from his face to the rosebush as she raised her eyebrows.
"I want to crush it," he said, finally.
His hand covered the rose and he crumpled the flower till all its petals fell off to the snowy walkway. The Lioness watched them fall, feeling unnerved. She knew he was talking about her. She also knew that she would never allow herself to be destroyed like that red rose.
"I can help you crush it, you know," Catherine offered, "It has secrets that it would never want to be revealed."
The Conte Duke stared up at her and Alanna held her breath, knowing he would ask what and knowing she would tell him. If he found out she was a girl...she'd never be a Knight for sure. Roger would take her to court even, rally all the traditionalists...it would be horrible.
"I don't want you to tell me," Roger said, surprising both Alanna and Catherine, "Shame on me if I can't figure it out all on my own."
"But-," the Lady of Galla started.
"But nothing," Roger cut across her, "You are a worthy ally, my lady, but I want to have the satisfaction of knowing that I destroyed Alan of Trebond with knowledge I figured out all on my own."
"About all this ally business," Catherine raised the subject out of the blue, "What exactly is my profit from this?"
"What do you want?" the Conte asked his own question.
Alanna expected her to say money since she was a gold digging tramp after all. Or gold or silver or jewels or something like that.
"I want you to marry my daughter, Helena," Lady Catherine answered, boldly, without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
The Lioness was shocked and stupefied. She actually wanted to marry off her one daughter, her one child, to this monster? Why? Helena would be treated horribly, used only as a pawn to get Roger more power and she would spend the rest of her days being tormented to do evil deed after evil deed. Then again, she did deserve it.
Roger raised an eyebrow, equally surprised, "You're not a stupid lady, Catherine. Let me why you would want that?"
"Once you are King, she'll be Queen of course," Catherine replied, as if it were obvious.
"Well, I can't marry her for whatever reasons," the Conte Duke shrugged, checking his nails for dirt again.
"And why not? My daughter is extremely attractive, if I may say so myself," Lady Catherine looked rather insulted at Helena's rejection.
"Oh, I won't deny that she's attractive. She is probably one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. But the problem is, I'm already bethrothed," Roger clarified.
"To who?" Catherine demanded, looking him up and down.
"My mother, Lady Georgia of Conte has negociated a marriage arrangement with Lord Cobalt of Rigton and Eastern Scanra. I will be married to my cousin, Alanna, by early next year," Roger said in response, "She shall be my Queen."
"Your cousin!" Catherine exclaimed, "She's not who you think she is Your Grace. I would say but then I know you want to solve your mysteries yourself. But, really, Alanna is nothing but a slut dressed as a lady."
"That slut dressed as a lady is my cousin and my bethrothed, though she does not yet know it," Roger stated, coldly.
Alanna choked on her breath. She was already bethrothed? Bethrothals weren't long. They lasted six months tops. That was eight months earlier than her Ordeal. No, no, no. She desperately needed to talk to Lady Winfred and Abigail. They needed to strategise something and quick.
"She'll never accept this marriage. She is headstrong. You'll have grief all your life if she is to be your Queen," Lady Catherine snarled, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Who's to say that Alanna will be my Queen my whole life? Don't you think I know she's stubborn and difficult? I need her to start off though. However, after our first year of reign, I'm afraid she'll have an accident. The death will be tragic. I will be heartbroken for my people. Then I shall take on another Queen," Roger said, giving Catherine a sidelong glance and looking as calm as if they were talking about the New Year's Ball.
"Then take on Helena as your next Queen!" Lady Catherine offered, excitedly, "She and you would make a smart match."
The Duke of Conte shook his head, "After that I am already promised."
"To who?" Catherine cried, clearly disappointed that she would have to try to kill off two girls before Helena could be Queen of Tortall.
"I cannot say," he said, simply, and Alanna knew he meant Delia.
Queen Delia. Ugh, it sounded so wrong.
"Anyway, second marriage is a long time away. My first isn't even yet officially arranged," Roger sighed, "But it will be once Lord Cobalt joins us here in Corus and informs Lady Winfred, Alanna and Lord Lincoln of the engagement."
"When does he come?" Alanna's Gallan Aunt demanded, freezing her toes off.
"January sixth," the Conte Duke answered, looking bored with the conversation, "Shall I escort you indoors? It's getting extremely cold outside."
"Very well, Your Grace," Catherine nodded her head.
He offered her his arm and she took it, giving him a fake smile. They began strolling back to the Palace, chatting about the upcoming Ball and the leave of the Carthaks. Prince Ozorne had been complaining that he hated the frost and cold of such a brutal kingdom and wished to return to the warm tropics of the Empire of Carthak. Geoffery, who had been raised to dislike almost all foreigners, had practically jumped for joy at the news.
Alanna was glad too, but she had to admit she'd miss Arram Draper. He had saved Thom's life with all his help on the trial and what's more he had become her friend with his witty humor and dark expressions.
Once Roger and Catherine were plainly out of sight, the Lady Squire forced her way out of the rose bush. The thorns torn at her clothes, skin, and hair, making for a very painful escape. She was glad to be out, even though she looked worse for the wear. Trying to make herself look somewhat presentable to Douglass and Geoffery, she headed up to her quarters.
Her mind seemed to stay behind at the Rose Walk, though, because she could think of nothing else except how much she wished she hadn't overheard what had just been said. It confirmed her worst suspicions and what was worse, it also meant that Lord Cobalt, Abby's father, would be in Corus in a week. This left little time to plan and gather. She knew that the Lord of Rigton and Eastern Scanra would not be keen on the fact that a she-male had dressed up as his daughter and that his real daughter was playing the part of a maid.
She was also worried about her secret, wondering how much longer it would stay a secret. Any day now Lady Catherine would burst forth with confessions and the entire court would be turned on its head as people tried to pick apart the Lioness. The Trebond that dared to break every rule set down by the Noble code.
However, the most disturbing thing of all was Roger of Conte and his burning desire to 'crush' Alan of Trebond as he had so nicely put it. Hatred of the other was burning deeply within both of them and Alanna had a feeling that if she could kill him she would. Honestly. And that thought was more scary than anything else.
Alanna practically fell off her chair, she was laughing so hard in the library. She was laughing so hard in the library. Most people would wonder what in the world was going to make Alan of Trebond as jubilant as he was in a place he normally hated.
The real reason she was so happy was because Arram Draper was so hilarious. He would randomly trail off on facts and think it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Then Alanna would mock him and laugh and he'd looked confused. The best and most funny part about Arram was that half the time, he was completely oblivious to his apparent humor.
"Your laugh is very high-pitched. Sounds almost like a noble lady," the Tyran teased, cheekily.
"Perhaps it's a clue on how to solve me," the Lioness tried to laugh it off.
"Perhaps it is, Trebond," the mage said, sounding serious.
Alanna sighed, "You're still not trying to solve me are you?"
When he didn't answer, she added, "There's nothing to solve, you know. And, anyways, your time is up. You're leaving tomorrow and you still haven't solved me have you?"
He shrugged and smiled like someone who was defeated. The Lady Squire grinned, triumphantly. She knew he wouldn't be able to figure out her secret. She was just too good at keeping it.
"You know what, I believe I may actually miss Tortall when I leave," Arram rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.
"Surely your Prince won't," Alanna interjected, remembering Ozorne's constant complains about the waste land that was Tortall.
'He's just bitter that his ancestors couldn't take over,' she thought, smirking.
"Oh, don't take notice of his whining. It just means that he admires your great kingdom so much. It makes him jealous as the heir to another," Arram waved his hand, "Prince Ozorne is like an enfant, underneath it all he is nothing but an immature, selfish, spoiled, brat."
"Bold words to use for the heir to your empire!" Alanna cried, raising an eyebrow.
"My empire? I'm from Tyra, remember? I could just as easily come to another country," the socceror clarified, "Maybe I'll even come to Tortall."
"Maybe you'll work for Jon and help us win wars," Alanna trailed off, getting a dreamy look in her eyes, "Maybe by then I'll be a Knight and..."
"Enough maybes, I have to go pack my baggage for tomorrow. Prince Ozorne will be displeased if I'm not ready to leave," Arram interrupted her, rising and bowing.
As the mage and her new found friend left, the Lioness frowned. She hadn't exactly become enamoured with Prince Ozorne like most other young noble ladies in Tortall. He was rather vain and even more snobby. And the way he talked about Carthak...it was like there was no other kingdom to rival it.
Arram Draper, on the other hand, was very easy to like. Once you got used to him that is. He was the perfect thing she needed in her life right now. A male figure who she needn't worry about loving or wanting to kill her. No, he was just her friend, her companion. Someone decent to talk to. She almost regretted him not figuring her out. If anyone were to solve her, she'd have preferred it be him over anyone else.
The morning of January the fifth was a grim one. Not only were the Carthaks leaving that day, but Queen Lianne's health had diminished at a frighteningly rapid rate. Alan was bored being both lady and squire since Jonathan was never around lately to set her about tasks. So, the day the Carthaks and Arram were to leave, Alanna was dressed as her Conte counterpart as part of the royal farewell to the Tortallan's southern brothers.
The Lioness stood between Lady Winfred and Lincoln, who had about five swords hung around his waist. One was particularly thick and curved largely like the swords used my the desert Bazhirs. Another was a bit smaller and duller, heavier too, a glaive from the Yamani Islands. Lincoln even had a Shang sword that said 'Shang Leopard' near the hilt. Since Lincoln of Conte was no Shang, Alanna had a feeling its previous owner was dead. Alanna, however, could not ask about and enjoy the stories of how he had gotten all the foreign swords since she was busy scanning the crowd of nobles for her Knightmaster.
Obviously, he hadn't come. Both the King and Queen had sent their apologies to the Carthaks, saying that they were deeply agrieved that they could not bid them farewell, but that the Queen was in no state to leave her bedchambers. Of course, Jon had skipped too, spending every waking moment by his mother's side. Winfred, Abby, and Lincoln were all deeply upset by their sister-in-law and Aunt's illness. Abigail was going crazy over the fact that she couldn't see her Aunt because she was nothing but a simple maid while in Tortall and not suitable to go in front of a Queen. Hell, most of the Tortallan Court was morbid because of their sick Queen. Even the New Year's Ball and festivities had been cancelled due to it.
Trumpets sounded as Prince Ozorne, Lord Gugal, Lady Sheila, Lady Varice, and Arram Draper stepped into the Entrance Hall. Duke Gareth, Duke Roger, Gary, and the Scanran Contes stepped forward as the royal goodbye. Alanna had never felt like more of a fraud than she did then, standing there. She shook hands and curtsied when she was supposed, losing track of what was really going on.
Arram came along, smiling at her, "My lady."
He bowed and she curtsied. Saving the formality for other people, she hugged him. Tears prickled her eyelids to her great surprise. She hadn't known she would miss him this much.
She tried to pull away but he clasped her close and whispered in her ear, "Good-bye, Alanna of Trebond."
The Lady Squire stiffened and moved away, blinking, "How did you...?"
"There has never been a mystery I haven't solved," Arram grinned, sweeping her one last bow, "You were a hard one, but I got it eventually. Farewell."
"Farewell," she murmured back, not knowing if he heard. She was still shocked still by the fact that he knew what she really was. A noble girl trying to be a Knight. And he hadn't even mocked her, what a surprise!
"Arram, are you coming or not?" Ozorne hollered from the front of the Carthaki procession.
The mage rolled his eyes and left, his black robe whipping out behind him. The Lioness couldn't help but stare until he had disappeared, hoping it was not the last time they would see each other.
The sixth of January was completely contrasting to the fifth of January. While the day before had been one of sorrowful goodbyes and worries about the health of the Queen, today was one of joyful celebrations. Lianne of Conte had somehow miraculously healed overnight and to commerate this wonderful occasion, King Roald held a ball and banquet the very next day. It was a welcome surprise to all the nobles who had been sorely disappointed when the New Year's Ball had been called off.
The Lioness was dressed up as Alanna of Conte since Thom had come as Squire Alan and under no circumstances would consider going as a lady again, no matter how hard his sister begged him. The Lady squire was greatly annoyed with tonight's appareil (it had been Abigail's choice), which was a soft pink silk slim-fitted gown. In general, it wasn't too lacy or frilly, but its sleeves were its worst feature. The sleeves were tight along the length of her arm, yet they puffed hugely at her shoulders. Alanna felt like two pink bubbles were resting on either side of her. She might as well have been growing three heads. Her brown red hair, however, was not a nuissance tonight since it had been curled and tied into a ponytail with a diamonded ribbon.
Thom, wearing all black tonight, one of the only colors that went with the infamous Trebond hair, looked extremely dashing. The Lioness only hoped he wouldn't make any new lovers. She didn't need a noble lady hassling her after her twin left Corus.
The Belated New Year's Ball was decorated even more stunningly than most usual balls since everyone was so overjoyed. Alanna, while happy, thought that Queen Lianne's sudden sickness and sudden recovery had something natural about it. Instinctively she felt that Roger and his soccery was involved. What quicker way to get the crown than to kill off its inhabitants, one-by-one.
The banquet part of the ball was full under away, as many people at while others danced. Once at the ball, Thom offered to dance with her, since so many of her suitors from the Midwinter Ball were still there, eyeing her hungrily.
"You know, I'm glad you asked me to dance because I really wanted to talk to you," Alanna commenced, hoping to get what she wanted to say off her chest.
"About what?" her brother demanded, raising a red eyebrow.
"Well, that whole trial thing...it was a really close call," she breathed, concentrating on her footwork. It hurt with feetkillers on.
"Yeah, so?" he, apparently, wanted her to get straight to the point.
"So I was thinking maybe it was time for you to leave Corus. It'd be safer if you weren't around, just in case all this blows up in my face," Alanna voiced her worries, deciding to let him go even though she desperately needed him.
Thom smiled, "You still need me. I'll be fine here for a few more weeks. But after that, I really need to get back. Anyways, I have a feeling this will all be over soon."
"What makes you say that?" the Lioness asked, catching his violet eyes.
"For one, all the key players are falling into place. Lincoln, Winfred, Abigail. Once Lord Cobalt gets here, it'll end. And as for Aunt Catherine and dear cousin Helena, they'll have to return to Galla sometime before June this year to pay capital to the Gallan King for their fief as they are required to do," Thom clarified, swirling her around just as the music stopped, "Now, I believe I'll get myself a drink. See you later?"
Alanna nodded, then noticed Jonathan ushering for her to come over, "Bye..."
She tried to get to him but was snatched up by a Knight, who expected her to dance with him or something. She scowled at a mole near his upper lip the whole time, wanting to hear what her Knightmaster had to say. It looked urgent.
Unfortunately, after that first Knight, she had to dance with about three others. She finally excused herself by saying she had to make a quick stop at her powder room. Instead she sought out the Crown Prince, who was sitting, almost as if he were trying to hide, at a table, covered by a large ivory flower vase. Alanna settled in beside him, wondering what he had to say.
"Have a drink," he offered, pouring her a glass of champagne.
"No thanks. I don't want a drink," she rejected it, shaking her head, "What did you want to say?"
"No, seriously, have a drink. You'll need it once I'm through," Jonathan persisted.
She took it and sipped it, just to be polite, "Ok, happy? Now tell me what's going on."
He inhaled deeply, "You know as well as everyone else at Court that my mother had been ill for week. Well, last night Roger suggested he try using his Gift for special treatment, since none of what our healers were doing was working."
Alanna gripped the stem of her champagne glass, getting nervous. However, that wasn't particularly odd since she felt that way whenever the Conte Duke was involved in something.
"To our great relief, Roger's treatment worked," Jon continued.
'Well duh,' Alanna thought, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes, 'He's the one who created the sickness, so he could've taken it away just as easily.'
"Father was so happy," Jonathan stared at the table straight ahead, not daring to look at his squire, "He told Roger he'd give him anything he wanted. And...and Roger said all he wanted was permission to marry y-you."
"Don't tell me the King said yes!" the Trebond cried, shaking the table as she smacked her palm onto it.
"He did," Jon sighed, soberly, "You and Roger are officially engaged under the Tortallan code of the Royal family."
It was true, they were. In the Royal family, whenever anyone got married, from your own brother to the most distant cousin, you were required to receieve permission from the head of the family, the King of course. Without it, no two people in the Conte line could be married. Alanna had been counting on Roald to reject a union between his niece and nephew but now she didn't even have that.
To Jonathan's great shock, she didn't sceam. Instead, she grabbed the champagne glass in front of her and downed it. She gestured for the Crown Prince to pour her another. He was just in the train of tipping the bottle of glossy, sparkly, liquid when the Duke of Conte rose, ringing a fork against his own drinking glass. The entire Court stalled, eyes glued to the handsome face of their golden boy.
"My dear ladies and gentlement, nobility of Tortall, I have a most wonderous of announcements to make. My great uncle, Roald of Conte, has bestowed me with a gift beyond any I could imagine," Roger speeched, making Alanna squirm, "He has given me permission to marry, my love."
Gasps were resounding through the crowd at this sudden engagement and bethrothal for their precious Duke. Who was the lucky woman? they all wondered, Who had won Roger of Conte's heart? The Lady Squire just wanted to curl up into a ball and die. She prayed to her patron, the Greath Mother Goddess, that the Conte Duke did not mention her name.
"You destroy your curiousity, I shall call her up and formally ask her to marry me in front of all of you, my closest companions," the Duke of Conte grinned, making soft lady hearts flutter all throughout the room, "My dearest Alanna, where are you?"
"Oh my god," she breathed, looking desperately at Jonathan, hoping he had an escape plan.
He gave her an apologetic look, shaking his head, "Just get up and get it over with."
Well it was no point hiding anymore. All the nobles had found her location and almost every eye was upon her. She tried not to look sick as she made her way up to Roger, her mortal enemy. The dead silence of the audience was deafening. She hurried up to Roger quicker, wanting to disappear. He took her hand, kissed it, and went down on one knee.
"Lovely Alanna, marry me?" he offered, holding out a golden ring with a large red garnet on it. It was something to match her bracelet and necklace.
She took one look at it and felt like vomitting. However, she held it in and took one last glimpse at the crowd. Lady Winfred looked defeated and merely gave Alanna a soft nod as signification as what response to give. Lincoln looked heated and furious. Thom looked like he was making fast calculations. Geoffery, Douglass, Gary and Raoul were looking between one another, wondering what they'd do with a broken-hearted Alan of Trebond. Delia looked like she had just swallowed a lemon, her face was so sour.
"Y-Yes?" the Lioness choked out after what left like forever to the waiting crowd. They clapped and some squires even cheered when she answered him. The jubilant reaction was more than she could handle, she felt faint.
Roger stood and hugged her, patting her back, comforting, more like he was sorry than he was in love with her. Alanna gulped a sob that was fighting to break out. The Duke of Conte cupped her chin and tilted his face forward. He was going to kiss her! Panicking, the Trebond screwed her head to one side at the last minute, forcing him to kiss her ear. He tried to make it look natural, but anybody would've been able to tell that Alanna of Conte had avoided kissing her fiance.
Fiance. Great Mother Goddess. This was really happening.
Author's Note: Betcha didn't expect that haha. A sudden engagement. Anyways, click in next chapter. It's sure to be good. Oh and review this one, please. It means a lot to me and thanks.
winky-wink