Early the next morning, Kel made her way to the Kennan courtyard. Her guest room was too small for a proper pattern dance, and she needed the exercise. Tobe rolled over as she slipped past his cot. He snored lightly, but remained asleep. A smile tugged at Kel's lips. She would miss him when his bond was paid.

The Kennan manor was well-situated at the top of a hill, safe from any future floods. The courtyard view overlooked many of the fief's green fields and modest cottages. In the orange light of the sunrise, the view was breath-taking, romantic.

Kel looked away from the horizon and focused on the packed dirt underneath her feet. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind and set her body for the first stance of the pattern. She swept through the dance, her muscles moved seamlessly, without conscious direction. She focused her mind on the feeling of control, the ease the sweeps, and the satisfaction of the wind whistling around her.

As the sun rose over the edge of the retaining wall, Kel felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Sweat began to trickle down her back. With one last butterfly-cut, she finished the dance.

She sighed. Odd as it was, she missed the bustling energy of New Hope. The Kennan fief slept with a quiet peace, content as a noble child.

Breakfast wouldn't be served to the guests for another hour or so, but Kel felt her stomach purr restlessly. She wandered through the castle halls and trusted her nose to find the kitchen.

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Anders awoke before dawn, as was his custom. He kissed his wife gently, and rose from bed to begin his exercises. The healers said the stretches would help keep the rest of his leg strong, though he had never entirely understood why that was important.

He bit his cheek as pain gripped him. Anders found he did not like feeling old. With a grunt, he stood and reached for the ceiling. The joints in his back popped and he released the breath he'd been holding.

Anders looked out the guest room window. From his vantage point, he spotted his mule-headed little sister waving her pig-stick to and fro. Her pattern dance was impressive by any man's standards. A smile touched Ander's face.

He wished he'd had the courage to support her; to be there and answer the questions she must have had. Gods, not that he could have helped her with womanly complications, but he should have been there for her combat training. Their parents convinced him it was better to let her fight on her own. She would survive, they said. It looked as if their parents had been right.

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Kel finally located the kitchen. The smell of fresh baked bread had her stomach doing somersaults of anticipation.

She cautiously stepped through the doorway, careful not to startle anyone. A serving boy looked shocked to see a guest awake so early, but he quickly dashed off on his errands. Kel approached a young woman bent over a pot of porridge.

"Excuse me, miss." Kel started politely.

The woman looked up, and Kel took a step back. Ermelian looked back at the lady knight and raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Keladry, I'm surprised to find you awake so early. Most guests won't be dragged from their beds for another hour or so." Ermelian's blond hair was pinned back in a simple braid; she tucked a stray strand behind her ears. Her dress was rough, and her whole appearance seemed more…common.

"I am just as surprised to see the lady of the house awake at this hour." Kel replied smoothly. Inwardly, she cursed her luck. Of all the women in the castle, Emerlian probably had the most reason to dislike Kel. And the Lady Knight wasn't ready to deal with another angry woman this week.

Ermelian smoothed a wrinkle in her dress and motioned for another servant to come watch the pot. "Is there something I can get you?" She asked gently. Emerlian led Kel over to the servant's dining table. The ladies sat down.

"I was just hoping to beg for an early breakfast. There's so much of me to feed, you see." Kel smiled in what she hoped was a friendly, unassuming way. She patted her stomach.

Ermelian's lips twitched. "This is terrible, isn't it?"

"I beg your pardon?" Kel frowned slightly.

"You look as worried as a dog who has stumbled into an empty hen house. Keladry, I think I owe you an apology."

"I…beg your pardon?" Kel's stomach quieted as her nerves raced.

Ermelian sighed. "I was impolite when we first met. I was nervous; Cleon talked so highly of you—no, not in that way." She added as she saw the horrified look on Kel's face. "I know you two hoped to marry someday, but that wasn't what bothered me. I gave up my own swain to marry Cleon, though I don't regret it now. Cleon feels the same."

"Forgive me then, but why were you nervous?" Kel asked.

The young bride sighed. "You were what I wanted to be--powerful, independent, a warrior. My parents always made sure I was buried in embroidery and lady lessons. I didn't have the Lioness's courage or your strength. I had never farmed or cooked before I married Cleon. It was a relief to learn what real work is all about, to know how it feels to HELP someone. Cleon loved to talk about all the wonderful things you'd done, about all your adventures as pages and squires…I knew I would never be as glorious as you."

Kel studied Ermelian once more. The demure noble lady had a quiet fire burning behind her eyes. Kel looked away. She traced her finger over the hard wood surface of the table, her eyes unfocused.

"My life is not worth envying." Kel responded quietly. She wasn't sure if she was talking to Ermelian or herself. "Here I am, twenty years old, unmarried, and an embarrassment to my family tree. If not for Lord Wyldon's mercy, I would be feeding the crows on traitor's hill. I've buried the corpses of my friends, and the bodies of people I was sworn to protect. Anyone who thinks glory can be found on a battle field has never seen the aftermath. Even the fighting is ugly. It's long and messy. You feel so tired afterwards that you rarely feel you've won."

Kel cleared her throat and continued. "People who talk about warriors only talk about their victories, never the losses. People talk about the heroes, the glamorous warriors who've done miraculous things. Not every warrior is a hero, just as not all heroes are warriors. As for me, people hate who I am and what I stand for. I'm a warrior, but I'm not a hero. I accepted that a long time ago. When I gave my oath to the crown, I gave my life to fighting the battles no one else would or could. To me, that's what it means to be a knight."

"But do you ever regret it? The choices you made?" Emerlian asked.

Kel thought for a moment before answering. "I'm sorry for the things I've done wrong, and for the people I've disappointed. But I don't regret being who and what I am."

Emerlian tentatively reached out and took Kel's hand. "You are a hero, lady knight." She whispered. "From all the tales I've heard, heroes are the ones who keep fighting, even when everyone else has lost hope. Have you ever given up; have you ever yielded in your life? Somehow, I don't think you have."

She pulled back and folded her hands in her lap. "At any rate, I certainly admire you, Keladry of Mindelean. And if your family thinks of you as an embarrassment, they're not the sort of family you should be proud of." She patted Kel on the back. "I think I can scare up a couple of eggs for your early breakfast. The bread will be done soon too. Do you like honey with tea?"

Kel looked with amazement at the younger woman. "Thank you." Kel answered weakly.

Breakfast that morning was the best Kel had tasted in a while. She finished long before other guests began to stumble toward the dining hall.