Disclaimer (I forgot to add one in the first chapter): Characters belong to TP, but the plot belongs to me etc. etc. You know the rest.
Huge thanks to all my reviewers, favouriters, and suscribers. This chapter is dedicated to you.
There were about a thousand things Neal wanted to say all at once. Where have you been? I've missed you. You never wrote. "You look nice tonight," he said lamely, and hit himself inwardly.
Keladry of Mindelan smiled bitterly, "Why, thank you!" Her voice was loaded with sarcasm as thick as congealing blood and as cutting as the sharpest sword. She'd changed, Neal realized, and not just on the outside. The Kel he knew would have put on her Yamani lump face by now. The Kel he knew wouldn't be caught dead in a fancy and no doubt uncomfortable ball-gown, no matter how modest it was. No wonder he hadn't recognized her. "Tell me Neal, what kind of trouble have you been up to lately? Have you been eating your vegetables? I believe that Lady Alanna took you up as her squire."
Neal laughed. "Yes, I have been eating all my vegetables and the lioness's as well, since she doesn't like them very much either. If I don't, I have a beating to look forward to on our next sparring session. Since the Alanna the lioness isn't eating her vegetables, are you?" He realized too late what he'd said.
Kel's warm gaze had frozen up again. This time, she did put on her mask. "I thank you for the dance, Nealan of Queenscove," she said calmly, and was gone.
Running through the ball room at full speed, Kel struggled not to cry. Even after all these years, the shame of being kicked out of page-training still hit her hard. However much that the others had told her that it was Lord Wyldon's fault, she still had a nagging suspicion that maybe she hadn't been good enough, and that was why she'd failed. And deep within the girl's heart, she still held the dream of being the lioness's squire. A dream that her best friend had stolen, she couldn't help thinking, even though she knew that it was unfair to blame Neal.
She'd almost reached the great double doors when a hand caught at her elbow. She turned around, expecting it to be Neal, but found instead one of her old enemies, Vinson of Genlith. "What do you want?" she asked rudely, being at the end of her patience.
"My lady," he said, bowing in what he thought was a very gallant way and nearly toppled over. "May I have the pleasure of the next dance?"
She took a deep calming breath, struggling not to slap him. "Not today, I would like to retire to my rooms."
Vinson grinned, and grabbed her shoulder so hard it hurt. "My lady," he drawled, hot sour breath streaming into her face. It seemed that though the night had just begun, he'd already drunk his fill of beer. "I am sure that you can spare one last dance. My family is very powerful. I am –"
"I know who you are, Vinson!" she snapped, losing her last shreds of control. "Leave me alone!" Drawing back her arm, she drove the heel of her hand hard into his face, there was a sickening crunch, and he crumpled to the ground. The dancers around them stopped dancing and stared in what could only be described as utmost horror. Delicate court ladies don't usually start off the evening by beating up their escorts. Only, Keladry of Mindelan was not a delicate court lady, never was one, and never will be. Too late, she realized her mistake. If Kel could have kicked herself in the face right at that moment, she would have done it.
Time seemed to freeze. Nobody moved. Even the king and queen had stopped chatting to their courtiers to stare back and forth from Kel to Vinson. Across the room, Cleon of Kennan stood beside Neal and smiled. So Kel of Mindelan, the Yamani lump, had not lost her touch. She was still a warrior at heart. "Come on," he whispered to Neal and made his way through the crowd to the place Kel stood, feet placed shoulder width apart, one arm out-stretched as if to fend off an attack.
"Glad you're back oh mirage of delight!" Cleon's loud booming voice echoed through the room. "Tell me, where have you been this entire time, princess flower?" If it were not for her Yamani training, Kel might have screamed, but even she couldn't hold back a tiny squeak of surprise.
"Cleon!" She'd completely forgotten the big red-headed boy's irritating tendency for calling her names. Vincent forgotten, she frantically tried to think up something to say. "What are you doing here?"
If anything, Squire Cleon's laughter was louder than his voice. "Why, today is the Midwinter Ball of course! What else would I be doing here but to dance, oh pearl of my heart?"
She felt the muscles of her back tense. Cleon was normally on the rowdy side, but this was going too far even for him. "You've been drinking, haven't you." It wasn't a question.
Neal chose that moment to step in. Cleon indeed was drunk that night; Neal had caught his pouring cup after cup of wine down his throat. There would be blood between the redhead and Kel if he continued on embarrassing her.
Kel's shoulders sagged as she felt Neal wrap an arm around her shoulders. Slowly, hesitantly, she gazed up into those emerald orbs which glowed with concern. "Come on," he said. "I take you back to your rooms."
Silently, with the whole room full of nobles boring holes into their backs, Nealan of Queenscove led Keladry of Mindelan through the great double doors and into the hallways beyond.
I know this took me a long time to update, but school started and I've been really busy between tests and after-school stuff. Also, I had a bit of writer's block half way through the chapter... Blah, blah, blah...
Looking for a beta reader! If you'd could beta for this story, please PM me! I'd be eternally grateful! ;)
Oh yeah... and of course, don't forget to review!