NOTE: this is an AJ story. Jon bashing in reviews is NOT TOLERATED. I WILL start blocking anonymous reviews if I get one more asking me to make Jon evil. I mean it.

Chapter 9

"Jonathan, you are possibly the dumbest man in all of the Eastern Lands." Jonathan looked up from his desk, blinking at his squire.

"Excuse me?" he asked. Thom sat on the edge of Jonathan's desk.

"I just came from talking with my sister. What I want to know is how you figured that Alanna would respond well to being told that you couldn't talk to her because she was, and I quote, 'the most beautiful woman in Court.' Has that ever worked?" Jonathan pushed his chair back and stood.

"I hardly think it is any of your concern how I speak to your sister," Jonathan told Thom, sounding very much the prince he was.

"Think about that Jonathan. You just told me that I shouldn't care how you treat my sister. She's my sister, Jonathan! My twin sister. Do you really think I'm not going to watch out for her?" Thom asked.

"It frankly isn't your business. And I doubt Alanna would want you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Jonathan replied. Thom fixed violet eyes on Jonathan.

"Listen here, Jonathan." Jonathan looked at his squire, surprised at the seriousness in Thom's voice. "If you do anything to hurt Alanna, I will hurt you, whether it lands me on Traitor's Hill or not." With that, Thom left the room and shut the connecting door behind him. Jonathan glared at the door. Why couldn't Thom leave it alone? It wasn't his business what Jonathan and Alanna did.

Meanwhile, Alanna was following Delia. Delia was taking her to meet Duke Roger of Conté, Jonathan's cousin. Delia had been pressuring Alanna to meet the Duke since she had arrived, and Alanna had finally conceded. If Delia wanted her to meet the man that much, she'd go. But she wasn't sure that she would fully be ready to meet him, given her… odd encounters with Jonathan and George.

"Your Grace?" Delia asked, knocking on a door that looked like any other door in the palace.

"Who is it?" a light tenor voice called from inside.

"Delia, and a friend, your Grace," Delia replied.

"Come in." Delia opened the door and Alanna followed her in, shutting the door behind her. Delia curtsied, and Alanna's view of the man was blocked. "Lady Delia, what a wonderful surprise."

"Your Grace, I brought one of my dearest friends from my days at the Convent. Your Grace, this is Lady Alanna of Trebond. Alanna, this is his Grace Duke Roger of Conté," Delia introduced.

"I can't see, Delia," Alanna remarked.

Delia stepped aside and Alanna got a full view of the man reclining against his desk. His hair was brown-black, a few shades lighter than his cousin's and slightly shorter. Roger's eyes were a lighter blue, but still magnificent. He had the same straight, slightly hooked nose as Jonathan and King Roald, as well as the same stubborn chin. He was obviously of Conté descent, you didn't need the name to tell you that. He was obviously in shape, though his loose tunic concealed it a bit. His smile was dazzling, enough to make women's hearts melt. There was a blue stone hanging around his neck. Alanna smiled and curtsied.

"Your Grace, I am honored to meet the man Delia has told me so much about," Alanna said formally.

"Come closer, Lady Alanna," Roger commanded. Alanna stepped closer and Roger took her hand. He kissed it. "I know your brother quite well. There is quite a family resemblance, isn't there?"

"We are twins your Grace. But, this is quite embarrassing; Thom has told me little about you. We haven't really spoken in six years," Alanna told him. Roger smiled.

"I taught the Gifted pages sorcery after Jonathan almost died of the Sweating Sickness. You are aware that Thom saved him, are you not?" Roger asked.

Alanna nodded. "That is one of the things he wrote to me about. There was little else. Thom isn't one to write letters."

"Your brother is an eager learner, Lady Alanna. Quite smart, as well. I learned that he wished to be a mage, but that you would not come to the palace," Roger remarked. Alanna blushed.

"What was I to do, your Grace? Women are not permitted to train for their knighthood," Alanna replied. "There was way to get around it."

"Oh, I'm sure you could've found a way." Alanna met Roger's eyes, wondering what he meant by that. He couldn't possibly mean that she could've dressed as a boy!

"I'm afraid Alanna and I have duties, your Grace," Delia said. "Come, Alanna."

"I hope we will have an opportunity to speak again soon, Lady Alanna. I have heard from Sir Myles that you like to learn. And I believe my cousin mentioned something about learning sorcery," Roger said. Alanna nodded.

"They are both correct, your Grace," Alanna replied. She curtsied. "Excuse me."

"See me tomorrow, if you please," Roger called as they left the room. "Lady Alanna."

Delia shut the door. "He likes you." Alanna looked back at the door.

"I can tell."

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She held a sword in her hands. It was light, with a crystal hilt. She clutched an ember stone at her throat; trying to tell which sword Roger held was real and which one wasn't. He kept switching hands, making it harder and harder. Suddenly, his blade cut through the binding on her chest. She gasped as the curve of her breasts showed through.

Alanna snapped awake. She was panting and sweating. Dreams like that had been occurring too much lately. Her chest was bound, and she was using a sword, or tilting, or other knight things. And Gary, Jonathan, and Raoul were often in her dreams. Sometimes even a catlike, dark-haired boy she didn't know. There was something strangely real about her dreams. Almost like she was meant to be living them.

Alanna shivered and noticed her window was open. She got out of bed and hurried across the chilly stone floor to the window. She went to close it, but something in the courtyard caught her eye. There was a man, one who Alanna could not identify, holding his palm out. Alanna saw that there was a blue fire illuminating the path before him. She knew it was a Gift, from the way the fire easily sat in his palm. She strained her eyes to see who it was. It was no use.

"Who's there?" she called. The man looked up, the blue light shining on his face. Alanna gasped. It was Jonathan.

"Lady Alanna?" he asked, squinting to see the face in the dark. Violet fire appeared in her palm, and the lady held it to her face. Jonathan saw that it was, indeed, Alanna.

"It's me." Her voice was almost regretful.

"Is something wrong?" Jonathan asked.

"No. I was cold, that's all," Alanna replied. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep." Was the reply. "I like to walk sometimes when I have trouble sleeping. It clears my mind." Alanna wondered why she was talking to him. Wasn't she supposed to be mad at him?

"Would you like some company?" Alanna bit her tongue after that. Just what in the name of the Great Mother was she doing?

"I would love some." Alanna cursed herself for making the proposition. She turned and grabbed her warmest cloak and slipped on the same heels she had worn that night. She hurried to the courtyard, holding the cloak close. She only wore a nightshirt, after all. She found Jonathan by the blue light. She smiled. "You're speaking to me again?"

"Of course. Why else would I be here?" she retorted. Jonathan smiled.

"You know, your brother threatened me if I hurt you," he told her. Alanna blushed.

"Thom should keep his nose where it belongs," she remarked. Jonathan laughed.

"That's what I told him." Alanna and Jonathan locked eyes for a moment, but Alanna broke the gaze. "What were you really doing?"

"Closing my window. I get cold easily," Alanna snapped. "You suspect me of an ulterior motive, your highness? A plot against you, perhaps? Or one for you?"

"My sincerest apologies, your ladyship. I hadn't meant to offend you. I was merely teasing. Or do you not know the difference?" Jonathan's tone was mocking. Alanna glared at him.

"If you are going to act like that, you can walk yourself," she snapped. Jonathan looked at her.

"Do you really want to leave?" he asked, holding her eyes. Alanna found she couldn't pull away. What is he doing to me? She wondered.

"Let me go," she said, her voice hoarse.

"I'm not holding you," Jonathan replied. He extinguished the blue flame and pulled her into his chest. His face was very close to her own- uncomfortably close. Alanna could feel the heat of his breath on her face, and found she could scarcely breathe. "Now I am." His deep, clear voice was quiet, and his words caressed her. Alanna melted against his chest.

"Let me go," she whispered.

"You don't really want me to. I can see it in your eyes." Jonathan's face was drawing nearer to her own and his eyes were slowly closing.

"You're seeing things, your highness," Alanna murmured.

"Yes, I am. You."

He pressed his mouth to hers, gently at first. Alanna pressed hers back harder, and Jonathan grew bolder. He drew her closer and kissed her deeply right back. Alanna slid her hands up his strong, muscled chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, never breaking their kiss. A small voice in the back of her head told her to stop, but she pushed it away. Jonathan was an excellent kisser. Jonathan pulled away from her mouth and started kissing her neck. "Jonathan," she murmured. "Jonathan."

"Jon," he said into her neck. "Jon. Call me Jon."

"Jon," Alanna repeated. Jonathan hovered his mouth over hers.

"It sounds wonderful when you say it." He kissed her again, and Alanna felt herself falling. She fell into his kiss with all the strength she had, ignoring all thoughts that told her this was wrong, that she could be caught, that she would get a reputation. All she cared about was Jonathan kissing her.

Author's Note- that is not the be all, end all. And take into consideration the note at the beginning of the chapter when you REVIEW, please. Hides from AG fans Don't kill me.