Eglanien, daughter or son of Carasson?

One night as the sky grew dark of Minas Tirith, Lance sat beneath the stars to watch them twinkle.  The bugs buzzed around her and the sound of horses neighing in the distance echoed through the streets.  She could feel the cold stone bench she sat on stretch through her clothes to try and chill her skin that hid beneath.  

"I think that behind your flat tone there's things you're trying to hide for some reasons."  The words her captain said to her earlier that week continued lingering in her mind.  He didn't know how close he hit it on his guesses, but they hit hard on her.  

"What do you mean by that?"  She had asked for further clarification.  

Captain Aedren scrunched up his face for a moment before he responded with, "I think there's a lot more to you than you let on, you have more emotions than you're showing but you're trying to hide them."

"You have no idea," she whispered to herself as she looks down the stone path.  

'Men are not what they present to the world, but what they hide from themselves.'  The words Levanien had told her as a kid when he trained her.  The statement was so true.  Now she was hiding everything from people, it became more true and true.  Rathel had told her that anyone who lies are being vindictive no matter what the lie was.  She didn't want to be vindictive, but she couldn't tell the truth.

Sucking in a deep breath, Lance finally just stands to her feet.  "Stop thinking," She told herself, "You have work to do."  With that, she walked down the stone path to the barracks.