Foreword
Here's my pathetic attempt at a romance. Now I have no experience when it comes to relationships—having none myself—and this story is in no way demonstrating my knowledge of the subject. Whatever knowledge I have comes from books, movies, anime, and manga. And no, I am not writing this story because I'm desperate for a relationship nor am I looking for one. This is written purely as a pioneer into the genre.
As to the story itself…
This takes place a bit over a year before the prologue of the game (the battle at Orbonne Monastery). Much like the game's Chapter 1 which explained Ramza's background, this story will focus on Agrias and how she came to be Princess Ovelia's bodyguard.
If some parts seem unbelievable, I apologize ahead of time. As I have stated earlier, this is just a piece pioneering into the romance genre. Any critique would be highly appreciated.
And now for our feature presentation…
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
—Lord Alfred Tennyson
Part One: The Proposal
Uncertain Feelings Rushed
The Fifty Year War.
A war sparked by Ordallia invading Zelamonia, a territory of Ivalice running along the Ordallian border.
A war fought by Ivalice to retake what was theirs.
A war where those who could swing a sword were forced to fight, nobles and commoners alike.
It was a war that cost many their lives.
And it was a war that shaped those who would fight in the next…
It's been fifty long years since the war broke out. Both countries had suffered losses and morale among the armies was close to nil. The soldiers were tired of fighting and the people rioted, pressuring King Omdolia to end the war.
Being the weak king that he was, he left the planning to his military council which included the leaders of the Hokuten and Nanten Knights, General Balbanes Beoulve and Count Cidolfas Orlandu. Plans were made and orders were sent.
And everyone prayed that they be successful…
Lord Agnes Oaks, Commander of Lesalia's St. Konoe Knights, stood on the ramparts of Lesalia Castle, contemplating the orders clutched in his right gauntlet as he watched his daughter on the combat ground.
She looked horribly vulnerable, but he knew she was experienced enough to determine her own actions in battle. It had been barely two years since she was made into a Holy Knight and already, she proved herself an equal among the senior knights. Perhaps it was because she had witnessed too many battles or experienced the instinct to survive when threatened at swordpoint. Whatever the case may be, it had shaped his daughter to become the proud and loyal knight she is today.
His eyes narrowed against the glare of the midwinter sun, focusing on the sturdy figure, the knightly heritage showing in her bearing, the casually expert control she exercised over her mount as the chocobo wheeled and danced in the thick of the melee. She was armored, not in full battle harness but in the toughened and padded leather suitable for such practice. The blades used were the blunt, wooden implements of practice, not naked steel. Enough knights had died in the war. They needn't more casualties especially during practice where one accidental swing could cause a knight's death.
Then, unaware, he grunted sharply as he saw her take a sweeping cut on her shield even as a blade hacked at her leather helmet, only partially deflected by her parry so that it landed hard against her shoulder. Her sword arm was numbed—he saw it drop—exposing her to a counter stroke that swayed her in the saddle, forcing her to heel her mount around to avoid the thrust that would have unseated her had it landed. Instead, the blade slid past her midriff and she brought her chocobo half-circle, hauling on the reins to propel the giant bird backward against her immediate opponent. Simultaneously, she countered the secondary attack with her shield and then, with some effort he thought, raised her blade to carry the fight forward, lifting in her stirrups to hack down at a feather-plumed helmet.
Her attack carried her into the thick of the melee and for long moments he lost sight of her among the surging riders. Then she became visible again, marked by the green and silver of their family standard painted on the wooden face of her shield. He grunted again, pleased, as he saw her emerge from the group only to plunge back into the heart of the fighting, blade rising and falling, shield both protecting and offensive.
She has courage, I'll give her that, he thought as he lost sight of her again.
Her courage stemmed from her family lineage of loyal knights that had served the royal family for seven generations: the Oaks family, named after the tree they represent, tall with pride, strong against adversity, yet sheltering, providing both protection and comfort to all who sought it. This was their legacy and he was pleased to see it continued in his daughter. The bugle call heralding the end of combat elicited a satisfactory nod and heartfelt smile as he saw the riders move apart, Agrias still seated in their midst.
He was confident in her, in turn, confident in his decision to bring her to the battle that would surely decide the outcome of the war. Darkness intruded on the sunlit afternoon with that thought and he turned away, promising himself that he would fully utilize her skills for the good of the country.
"You!" he called to a patrolling guard passing by, who halted in his march and seeing that it was a high ranking knight, came into attention, bringing both feet together as he brought his right arm across his chest in salute, shouting, "Sir!"
"Tell my fellow knight officers that I wish to meet them at the council room," he instructed the guard.
"Yes, my lord!" The guard saluted once more before running off to do his bidding while Agnes made his way to the council room.
On the field below, Agrias was greeted by the combat master, his right hand extended, palm outward. "Very good, Lady Agrias!" he exclaimed in approval as he walked his great chocobo towards her. "That was done quite well, if I do say so myself. You're as skilled with the sword as you are beautiful." He lifted his helmet and smiled, exposing straight, pearly white teeth, as he ran his fingers through his sweat-lank brown hair. He was a handsome man, no more than a couple of years older than Agrias, sought out by most of the eligible ladies in the province, but his heart was set on one and only one.
"Thank you, Combat Master Cadin," she returned a bit tersely, deliberately ignoring the praise. Most men have sought her affections, but once their advances were rejected, accepted they'd not have her and contented themselves with just her presence at the palace. But not Combat Master Lance Cadin, who appeared determined to win her heart no matter the times she rebuffed and ignored him, as she did now, steering her chocobo away from him and back towards the walls of the capital.
"Lavian! Alicia! Let's go!" she called behind her back for the two knight maidens. Two chocobos detached themselves from the group of knights and galloped after her.
"I look forward to your presence at the banquet tonight, Lady Agrias!" Lance shouted after them, hoping to catch a last glimpse of her lovely face before she fully took her leave.
But Agrias again ignored him, only sighing as she shook her head in frustration.
The palace bathhouse was a place where knights and their squires come to cleanse themselves after a hard day of practice. Normally, Agrias would avoid the ritual, favoring to bathe in the privacy of her room at Oaks Keep. But having received word from her father that they would be staying at the palace for the banquet, she had no choice but to make herself look presentable before the other guests and that meant washing the sweat and dirt received during combat practice. As she was about to enter the low-roofed structure that housed the baths with her two knights, she was stopped by a footman who explained that a bath had been drawn up for her in one of the rooms of the palace by the order of her father.
Agrias nodded, silently thanking her father for the gesture, as she waved to Lavian and Alicia to continue on without her, saying that she would see them at the dinner tonight. The footman then escorted her to her quarters, bringing her through resplendent corridors to a chamber from which emanated the scented steam of the tub. The footman informed her that an attendant would come shortly with her dress for the feast.
"Dress?" Agrias exclaimed in shock. It's enough that she had to tolerate Lance's presence at the banquet, but to wear a dress…
That's the last thing she needed right now.
"Your father made the arrangements, not I, Lady Agrias," the footman explained rather mildly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some other business to attend to. Good day to you, Lady Agrias." He bowed then left the room.
Agrias sighed again, wondering what her father planned for her tonight as she unhooked her sword and set it on a table, then undressed herself and entered the room containing the tub. The water was hot and she lay in it, idly scrubbing, aware of the attendant delivering the dress when she heard the door open and close.
The sun was beginning to sink to the west when she decided to end her bath, draining the water away, standing to turn the brass faucet of the fish-headed spout above the tub and drench herself in cold, fresh water.
Toweled vigorously dry, she studied the dress that the attendant had prudently placed on the bed. It was a gown of dark blue, embroidered with chasings of silver thread. She immediately recognized it as the gown that her late mother had picked for her to wear at a royal banquet or at a lord's feast. But before she could wear it, her mother had died a victim of the plague. The gown was placed in storage and forgotten…
Until now.
It had been her mother's wish to see her in this gown, no doubt twirling about at a ball or conversing with noble lords, hoping that one would offer her their hand in marriage. She shuddered at the thought, suddenly reminded of the combat master and her objection in wearing the dress to the banquet for surely he would find a way to win her heart during its duration.
Hoping to find something more suitable to her taste, she searched the room's wardrobe and muttered in dismay to find it emptied. She looked through all the dressers and drawers and not one of them had any single piece of clothing. There was nothing else to wear in the room besides the gown. Even her combat clothes were gone, taken by the attendant, no doubt to be washed.
She sighed in defeat, reluctantly dressing herself in the gown, cinching a belt of blue and silver filigree work at her waist. She admired herself in the mirror, seeing the silk of her gown so fine that it clearly outlined the contours of her figure. She then studied her face and wondered why men praised her beauty. It seemed to her an ordinary enough face—oval and framed with golden locks, the eyes and nose a little too large to her mind, the mouth too wide. She supposed she was pretty, but wished she were not. It would make life easier especially when it concerned a certain man by the name of Lance…
Stifling another sigh, she found a brush conveniently sitting on a nearby dresser and began running it through her long mane. She smiled in spite of her current situation for if there was one thing she enjoyed in this world, it was caring for her hair. It was her one vanity that set her apart from many women. After brushing, she would normally braid it out of convenience for her long hair would only serve to hamper her during a battle where a sudden gust of wind could shift it to block her view. But tonight she was not going into battle, only to a formal gathering where she assumed her father would announce the orders he received just recently. So, she left her hair down, noticing for the first time how fair she looked compared to the stern beauty she portrayed when wearing her hair up.
She continued to brush her hair until there came a knock on the door and a voice: "Agrias? Are you ready? It's time."
Recognizing the voice as that belonging to her father, she replied: "Coming, father." With a last look at herself in the mirror, she went to open the door.
Agnes smiled when his daughter emerged, looking positively radiant in her gown. "You look beautiful," he commented softly as he offered her his arm. "How I wish your mother could see you now. She would have been so proud."
"She is. I know." Agrias returned his smile as she took his arm, walking down the corridor in the direction of a staircase. "Thank you, father."
Agnes nodded and they remained silent for a time until Agrias spoke again: "Tell me, father, why you wished for me to wear this? A servant informed me that you had made the arrangements."
Her father chuckled as he answered in a cryptic tone, "You'll find out soon enough."
Dreading those words, she somewhat hesitated when they finally reached the stairs. Agnes assured his daughter as he escorted her down the winding stairwell that emptied into a spacious room where people in silken finery stood conversing as servitors filled wine cups from crystal jugs and minstrels strummed lutes, their subtle melodies a counterpoint to the steady murmur of voices.
The first thing Agrias saw was Lance Cadin, who looked to be entertaining three young ladies. He looked rather dashing in his russet knee-length over-robe, his hair drawn into a tail, emphasizing the stern set of his features. He sipped his drink, half lending his attention to them as his eyes roamed the hall. A smile stretched his narrow lips when he spotted her among the crowd and he quickly excused himself from his small audience.
At the same time, Agnes excused himself as he removed his arm, saying that he needed to speak with someone about the announcement he was to make. "I'll go with you!" Agrias exclaimed a bit frantically, hoping to avoid Sir Cadin, who was swiftly making his way towards them.
"That won't be necessary," Agnes replied as he hastily walked away much to his daughter's rising suspicion.
Seeking to escape the oncoming encounter with the combat master, Agrias searched the hall for Lavian or Alicia, hoping to gain their company, but frowned in dismay when she found them in the company of two male knights. Desperate now, she made her way among the crowd that had begun to throng around the banquet table, praying that Lance would not find her among the sea of skirts and tunics.
But his attraction to her was great as he found her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side, gazing earnestly at her face. "Lady Agrias, I am pleased to see you here." He raised her hand to his lips. "You look lovely, whether it be in armor or gown."
Agrias forced herself to stand, and if she did not smile, at least she did not recoil in disgust.
"Have you eaten anything yet?" Lance continued, oblivious of her agitation. "Shall I get you something? A drink perhaps?"
"No, thank you," she answered curtly as she disengaged her hand from his. "I'm quite able by myself. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She quickly turned and walked away, silently praying that would be the last time she spoke to him as she grabbed a plate and began placing various food items on it. However, by the time she reached the end of the table, Lance was there already waiting for her.
"May I at least escort you to a table, Lady Agrias?" he offered with a smile as he raised his arm.
Another sigh escaped her lips as she brushed past him, trying her best to ignore him even as he hovered behind her like some bee attracted to honey. As she searched for a suitable place to sit and enjoy her meal—she was famished from the practice that afternoon—someone called out to her: "Lady Agrias!"
She turned at the call of her name and smiled when she saw that it was Lavian. The knight maiden beckoned her to their table with a wave of her hand and Agrias happily obliged, seeing that there was only one seat left.
No place for Lance Cadin.
Unfortunately, when she thought she had finally escaped his presence, Alicia's male companion invited him to the table as well, providing a seat from a nearby table and placing it inconveniently by Agrias. She muttered a stream of curses beneath her breath that would have been more appropriate at a battlefield, unbecoming behavior for a lady at a state dinner.
"Did you say something, Lady Agrias?" Lance inquired as he sat down besides her.
Agrias blushed slightly in embarrassment. She quickly put on a fake smile to hide her mortification. "I said that it was nice of you to join us, Sir Cadin," she lied, glaring at Lavian and Alicia, who were giggling softly.
Noticing their strange behavior, Alicia's companion—who Agrias soon learned was named Ian—asked, "What seems to amuse you, ladies?"
Agrias' blush turned a shade darker, quickly busying herself with her dinner to save herself from further embarrassment.
"It's nothing," Alicia replied, waving a dismissive hand. "That is, nothing you men would understand."
Before he could question what she meant, a loud clap stilled his tongue and the numerous conversations that murmured about the hall. They looked toward the middle of the room where Agnes stood, waiting for full silence, his face solemn as he studied the curious eyes now turned toward him.
"As you all may have heard, I have received orders from General Balbanes himself to join with Limberry and Gallione forces at Bethla Garrison," he announced. "Our mission is to drive out the Ordallian army from Limberry Castle then march on to Zeltennia where we will join with the Nanten and Tempest Knights in taking back that city, ultimately ending this war that we have been fighting for so long.
"We leave on the morrow, so enjoy what you can of this celebration for when we take hold of wine again," he grabbed a goblet and held it up, "it would be to victory!"
"Victory!" everyone else cheered as they too held up their cups.
As the hall filled with the babble of discussion and the minstrels' music that followed the announcement, servants began moving tables, clearing enough room in the hall for couples to start dancing. There were some who happily obliged, mostly wives dragging their reluctant husbands to the floor.
"Excuse me," Lance said as he rose from his seat. Agrias looked up at him in surprise at his sudden departure from the table. Mistaking her look of shock to be disappointment, he smiled reassuringly. "I shall return soon, my lady."
As he left, Agrias returned to her dinner, caring not for his departure, only dreading the time when he would return. But now that he was gone, she could enjoy her meal without him watching her closely like a hawk, remarking how she ate with such poise and etiquette.
"I wonder what important news Sir Cadin is discussing with Lord Oaks…" Lavian commented nonchalantly, the statement aimed at Alicia.
Agrias suddenly spluttered, nearly choking on a mouthful of food. Ian came to her rescue, gently patting her back as Alicia passed her a glass of water, which she drank as she tried to regain her breath. "Thank you, Ian, Alicia," she muttered when she finally recovered some sense of composure. "Now, what were you saying, Lavian? Something about Sir Cadin talking with my father?"
"Yes." Lavian pointed to the pair at the end of the hall, across from the dancing couples. "Lord Oaks seems to be in good humor."
Agrias looked to where the knight maiden pointed, seeing her father laughing openly at a comment made by Lance. Lance himself looked pleased at her father's response and so continued with his discussion. Agnes was very attentive, stroking his mustache in thought, nodding when it seemed appropriate. The conversation seemed to be at an end when her father broke into a smile, placing a hand on Lance's shoulder. Lance nodded, looking relieved as he bowed before taking his leave.
Aware that he was returning, Agrias returned to her meal, halfheartedly picking her food. She could not help but suspect that the topic of their discussion was about her. Having lost her appetite, she pushed her plate away and settled for a glass of wine, hoping to drown her thoughts in the drink.
Lavian glanced briefly at Alicia, who smiled knowingly as she nodded in return. "Let's go, Ian!" she exclaimed to her escort as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor, followed by an eager Lavian and her not-so eager partner. Both men shouted their protests, but they went unheard much to their displeasure.
"Where are you going?" Agrias inquired, observing their hasty departure. "You don't plan on leaving me here, do you? Especially with Sir Cadin returning?"
"Not unless you want to ask him to dance with you," Lavian quipped with a grin. "Good fortune to you, Lady Agrias." The two knight maidens then laughed as if they shared a secret only known between them as they walked away with their dance partners. But that's exactly what they shared. Little did Agrias know, Lord Oaks had ordered them to leave her alone with the combat master once the opportunity arose.
"Good fortune indeed," Agrias muttered under her breath, glowering after them. Was everyone against her tonight? First her father, now her two knights. It was as if they wanted her to be alone with the combat master.
But why?
As these thoughts crossed her mind, she caught a glimpse of the combat master drawing near. She quickly turned around in her seat and busied herself with her wineglass. Lance finally arrived and sat silently besides her.
Agrias suddenly felt awkward, the world around them seeming to disappear, leaving the two of them alone.
Lance was no fool though it seemed he acted like one. He knew that his presence annoyed the lady, but…
God! She looks beautiful even when angry.
He smiled softly at the thought as he stared at her lovely face, noting the firmness of her jaw, the fullness of her lips, and the blue eyes that flashed in irritation as they turned to regard him. "Is there something wrong with my face, Sir Cadin?" she questioned in a bothersome tone.
"Lance," he simply stated in answer, his smile carefree despite Agrias' agitation.
"What?" she returned, blinking in confusion at the reply.
"Call me Lance," the combat master explained. "We're not at combat practice and I prefer to leave the formalities there. I'm now just a humble knight who is taken by your beauty tonight."
Agrias snorted as she reached for her drink, but Lance stopped her as he grabbed her hand. She looked at him in surprise, expecting to see a boyish grin on his face. But the combat master did not grin, only stared at her thoughtfully, none of the flattery present in his eyes.
"Lady Agrias," he began solemnly as he held her hand softly between his own, "please listen to me for once and after, you can ignore me all you want. But I ask you to hear me out, please."
If the situation had been different, Agrias would have found his request comical. But, as she stared into his eyes, she saw the gravity of his request and could not help but nod her assent.
Lance smiled in gratitude as he whispered, "Thank you, my lady." His smile, however, was short-lived as he again stared at her solemnly. "Lady Agrias, there is something I've wanted to tell you, but could not find the courage in my heart until tonight."
Agrias suddenly became nervous, the prickling of apprehension crawling up her spine. Was he…?
"My lady, from the first time I met you, I've admired you. Your beauty has captivated me as well as your prowess with the blade. I've never seen such a woman with a strong will as yours as well as a good heart. I tell you, Lady Agrias, you've captured my heart that day."
The combat master then paused as he tried to calm the pounding in his heart, summoning up the rest of his courage to say the next few words before his fears led him out of the grand hall.
"I've gained your father's approval," he continued with more confidence than he felt, his hold on her hand tightening. "He blesses us both."
"What…do you mean?" Agrias asked softly, a note of apprehension evident in her voice, even though she had an inkling of what the answer might be.
Lance replied by falling to one knee on the floor besides her. "I love you, Lady Agrias," he declared, surprised that it came out so clear, so definite, so…
Easily.
How many times has he tried to say that simple phrase only to have them swallowed up by his fear of rejection? Saying that one phrase, however, seemed to have bolstered his courage so that he continued before Agrias had a chance to reply:
"I've always loved you ever since the first day I saw you and I would not want anything more than to ask you to be my wife."
Agrias did not reply immediately, her mind reeling with the sudden proposal. Be his…wife? The thought was ludicrous to say the least! She wasn't ready for marriage especially at a time like this when the following battle could turn or break the war. Besides, the combat master wasn't really her type. He was arrogant, tactless, and quick to anger…yet, he was courageous and kind, gentle, compassionate.
She realized that she listed his attributes, both on and off the battlefield, and that he—quite to her surprise—compared favorably to what she would look for in a husband. But was she ready? She was only twenty-years-old, hardly experienced in the ways of love and romance. It seemed more difficult than swordwork and twice as complicated. Why did her first lesson have to occur now of all places?
Lance saw the uncertainty in her eyes and nodded in understanding. "You do not have to give your answer now," he explained softly in a reassuring manner. "All I ask is to think about it." He then kissed her hand once again as the music faded from the hall, bringing the dance to a conclusion, the dancers slowly returning to their seats.
As Lavian and Alicia returned with their escorts, Lance stood to leave. "This is where we part, Lady Agrias. Forgive me for the sudden proposal especially right before an important battle, but this may be the last time I'll get to see and speak with you until after the battle...or the war. I needed to tell you what was in my heart before I regret it just in case…"
His voice trailed away as he shook his head. It was best not to think of such thoughts. But he could not stop himself from saying the next few words.
"Even the solid oak bends to the mighty gale…" His voice was soft and edged with concern uncharacteristic of him, which took Agrias completely by surprise as she looked up at him, seeing the concern reflected in his dark eyes. "Take care of yourself, Lady Agrias," he murmured in farewell, "and good night."
He then left just as the knight maidens and their escorts resumed their seats at the table. They observed Lance's quick departure curiously, wondering what had transpired between the lady and the knight as they turned their gaze to Agrias who seemed to be having some sort of inner struggle, her face a mixture of emotions.
"Lady Agrias?" Alicia called a bit tentatively. "Lady Agrias, are you well? Was it something Sir Cadin said?"
"No, it's—" Agrias began, but then stopped and shook her head, trying to make sense of her thoughts and emotions. But the conversations and music that floated around the hall distracted her, even the attention of her two knights. She felt overwhelmed by it all and needed to get away to somewhere quiet where she could think clearly about…
About what?, she thought. Sir Cadin's proposal or the upcoming battle? Or perhaps both?
Even she can't decide what to think about!
Frustrated by her own indecisiveness, she abruptly stood up from the table with the thought of escaping it all. Lavian and Alicia looked at her questioningly, taking note of her troubled features. "Excuse me," she said as she pardoned herself from the table.
They watched her leave, weaving through the crowd as she made her way to two doors at the end of the hall that led to the commons. One of the men blinked in confusion. "That was rather sudden," he said. "What was that all about?"
He looked to Lavian who replied in a dreamy sort of way: "Love."
Hoping to find some peace, Agrias was dismayed to discover that the commons was almost as crowded as the hall.
Crowded with couples.
This is just what I needed… She sighed as she tried to find a quiet corner alone with just her thoughts to keep her company.
In truth, she wanted to run away from the scene; from the pair that strolled lazily about, their arms linked; from the man who caressed his partner's cheek tenderly; from the woman whose arm went about her partner's waist as she leaned her head against his chest…
From the couples who shared something she didn't have.
She angrily pushed the thought aside as she found a marble bench in a quiet corner, the hedgerows and bushes offering her the privacy she desperately needed as they blocked her view of the others. You have other matters to worry about than the infatuation of a knight, she mentally berated herself as she sat on the cool surface of the bench. Besides, Sir Cadin is but a fellow knight in the order. Nothing more.
Is that how you really see him?, a ghostly voice seemed to ask, its tone almost playful. Even during that time you first set your eyes on him that you haven't found him appealing?
How could I?, Agrias returned. I have my duties to perform. I don't have time—
For love?, the voice supplied and Agrias could almost hear it giggling. Your father was able to find love during this war. If not, you wouldn't even be here much less have this struggle.
Agrias was silent. As much as she wanted to argue, the voice had a point.
"I thought I'd find you here."
She looked up to see her father standing at the other end of the bench, his expression benign.
"I watched you leave the hall hastily," he said as he came to sit by her. "Are you well? Is there something troubling you?"
Agrias smiled thinly. Ever since her mother died, her father would always go to great lengths to take her place, consoling and guiding her in times of dilemma. This would count as one of those times, but she couldn't help but feel that her father had forced her into this situation.
She frowned then at that thought as she stared at him accusingly. "You're responsible for this, aren't you, father?"
"Whatever do you mean, daughter?" Agnes inquired in all seriousness, but the mischievous glint in his eyes and the quick twist of the lip betrayed him.
"You know what I mean!" Agrias vented as she abruptly stood up and began pacing around in frustration. "You orchestrated everything tonight! This dress, your sudden departure when Lance—"
"Oh, so it's Lance now, is it?" Agnes interrupted teasingly. "What happened to Sir Cadin?"
Agrias gasped at the admission. Her father was right. Since when was she at a first name basis with the combat master?
Agnes smiled knowingly. Despite all those times his daughter had complained about the combat master's attentions, he had heard in her voice more than she would acknowledge. Her sense of duty has too strong a hold on her that she refused to admit those feelings.
In a way, she was like her mother, his late wife, the Lady Dei.
He remembered his own courtship and the way Dei had always refused to acknowledge his presence much like the way Agrias was with the combat master. Despite the lack of attention, he continued to pursue her, knowing full well that she harbored feelings for him even though she would not admit it to herself. Only when he had taken a wound that nearly cost him his life due to his carelessness did she confess. Just the mere thought of losing him without telling her feelings drove her to action, knowing that she may never have a second chance.
Agnes prayed, as he studied Agrias, that his daughter will not go through the same ordeal as her mother, hoping she'll see the futility of hiding her own feelings and acknowledge them instead. Even now, you still struggle, he thought, noticing her troubled features.
"Well?" he asked lightly in reference to his previous question. "Lance or Sir Cadin?"
"I think it's time we retire, father," Agrias replied, evading the question. "We need our strength tomorrow to make the necessary preparations for the march." Her voice was firm, but when she turned on her heel and left in a dignified manner, Agnes saw a measure of uncertainty in her steps.
She's trying to hide behind a facade of duty, he thought wearily as he watched her leave.
A soft wind blew, the leaves rustling in its wake and he cocked his head to the side as it passed over his face gently, hearing soft laughter in its sigh. "You find this amusing too, do you, Dei?" he inquired as he smiled to the starlit sky.
The wind answered in kind.