Truth Seen Too Late (A Prelude)
Brahne looked herself over in the mirror one last time. The retainers had all taken their leave, and she was left to examine their handiwork. The hair was nice – her glossy chestnut hair, always one of her favorite features, was knotted in an intricate series of braids that sat on top of her head. Hmm, quite beautiful in fact. Moving down, her usually rosy complexion was a little green today. Well, they'd done a good job covering that little detail with makeup. She smiled and admired the tasteful brown lipstick that matched her hair. The dress was new, too, and cut according to her figure for maximum flattery, with the colors chosen to showcase her hair and eyes. Green and gold – stunning. She smiled again, and a glint of something unpleasant filled her eyes.
A sharp rapping interrupted her thoughts.
"Who dares?" she asked imperiously.
"Kuja," came a soft voice from the other side.
"Oh…come in," she said.
Kuja entered and shut the door quietly behind him. He was holding a bunch of red and black roses. "For you, my sweet." He was wearing the costume of a Treno noble, who were often seen coming and going in the castle. The Queen knew it was a disguise; she didn't know where he really came from, and she didn't much care. And she certainly didn't want to deal with any questions from General Beatrix, or, God help her, that old mule Steiner.
"You shouldn't have…" Brahne murmured, taking in the rich scent of the bouquet. She loved roses. No other flower combined such a gorgeous, moneyed scent with an element of subtle danger. What better symbol for an army made of women?
"But I wanted to," he cooed. His reddish-brown eyes were fascinating, and more revealing than he probably realized. The Queen could tell that he wasn't entirely serious about their affair, but she was beyond caring about that, either. The attention of a young, handsome man (and the promise he'd given her that he would take their relationship to a new, more exciting level soon) was plenty for a middle-aged queen. Really, she'd done almost everything she'd ever wanted. The only real ambition she had that had never been fulfilled was world domination – and though she'd never given it serious thought, when she was with Kuja it seemed so…attainable. Almost…reasonable. In fact, every time she thought about herself and Kuja ruling the world together, she wanted it more.
Brahne picked up one of the two fans made to match the dress and waved it coquettishly. "Put one in my hair."
Kuja obliged, carefully weaving a red rose behind her left ear. "Is it ready?" he whispered.
Wordlessly, Brahne produced the crystal goblet that had been handed down in her family for generations. The royal crest of Alexandria had been carved painstakingly on its face. It was the king's goblet, the only one he drank from. Kuja examined it closely.
"Did you…?" he inquired, not taking his eyes off the goblet.
"Oh, yes," said Brahne, pleased with her handiwork. Coating the thing with antlion venom hadn't been easy, but she thought she'd pulled it off well, considering how little experience she had in such matters.
"Perfect," Kuja breathed. "I'll visit again tomorrow. Until then, my dear…." He teased her with a kiss on her ring finger and exited smoothly.
Brahne set the fan back down on her dresser and walked to the window. In years past, she had loved to stand there with her husband and gaze at their kingdom, relishing the challenge of ruling, keeping a balance in both her own life and those of her people as time and chance threatened to ruin them. She held the twin crystal goblets in her hands. This one was hers, that one was his…they had received them as a gift from her mother on their wedding day. This one was hers, that one was the one that would kill him. Kill him…. The words resonated in Brahne's mind as she contemplated the goblets.
…
In his bedroom, King Phillip gasped as he accidentally dropped and broke an antique hand mirror. He wondered if it was a bad omen. He'd been feeling a certain sense of foreboding the whole day, but had passed it off as depression. Although they'd been growing apart for years, it had only been a few months since she'd taken to sleeping in another bedroom…. Phillip had been putting off confronting her about it, and maybe it was that guilt that was giving him this strange feeling.
This wasn't a particularly ominous day, anyway – the bright sunshine was fading in a series of reds, oranges, and purples and it looked like the night would be clear and starry. Phillip was just beginning to calm down when his daughter, Garnet, ran in and headed pell-mell on a collision course with him.
"Oh, daddy!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his chest.
"What is it, Garnet?" he asked. He'd come dangerously close to asking her what on earth she could expect from him, a coward who couldn't even talk to his own wife about her infidelity, but he bit his tongue. She didn't need to hear about that. Phillip hardly knew what to do with her now that she was almost fifteen – and say, wasn't he just thinking about his impending doom? For a moment, he was angry at her for distracting him from his own wallowing, but that feeling disappeared when he looked down at her. She had screwed her eyes shut as tightly as possible, so tight that her forehead was turning red. He supposed she was trying not to cry. She'd been distant since turning thirteen, and he'd felt her slipping away as he had his wife. Even so, he hoped that she's eventually grow out of it, even if Brahne never did.
"What's wrong?" he asked again, and was again tempted to answer his own question.
"I had a dream," Garnet sniffled. "A bad dream!"
"It isn't the one about the boat, is it?" Phillip had heard all about the nightmares that still bubbled to the surface occasionally. Garnet was not aware of her origins, but it seemed she still remembered some things….
"Not that one, it was a new one," she said, her voice shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. "An old man showed me some bad things. He made me look. I didn't want to see. Didn't want to…." She burst into tears.
She must be terrified! Phillip thought, wondering how real the dream must have seemed to have such an effect on his daughter. "Try to calm down," he sighed, stroking her long hair.
Gradually, she did, and was able to speak again. "He showed me that you died," she said, not looking directly at him.
Phillip tensed. "Everybody dies, darling. Even me."
Garnet shook her head miserably. "No, you die right away. Then mother dies, but later. Then…everybody dies."
"It was just a dream," Phillip said in his most soothing tones.
"I saw Alexandria in flames. And another village I didn't recognize. There was a dragon, Bahamut, and the biggest eye I've ever seen looking down from the sky…."
Again, Phillip tensed. She shouldn't know anything about summoned monsters, unless Dr. Tot happened to have taught her…still, he thought he'd instructed the professor to omit any information about Madain Sari and its people. Yes, he was sure he did. The ominous feeling was back with reinforcements.
"Daddy?" she asked, tugging on his collar like a child. "Was it God I saw in the sky? Would He burn us all up like that?"
Phillip shook his head. "No, it wasn't God. But it might have been the Devil himself. It's a good thing you can wake up and cast him out, isn't it? It was only a bad dream, after all, nothing to fear."
That was settled, and Garnet was beginning to relax. His thoughts drifted once again to his family. He missed them, missed them terribly. As he comforted her, he realized that he wasn't rebuilding a bond that was gone, but strengthening one that was always there. He kissed away Garnet's tears, smoothed out her hair and dress and gave her a final hug. He told her not to worry, and that he would tell her a story after dinner, just like he used to. She favored him with a radiant smile and thanked him for helping her. Maybe he did have the strength to confront Brahne, after all.
He arrived late to dinner and took his place at the table, which was already set and covered with food. His crystal goblet was already full. He picked it up and proposed a toast.
"To family," he said warmly, and whispered to Brahne, "I want to speak with you after Garnet has gone to bed."
Brahne smiled a papier-mache smile and sipped her wine. "I'm looking forward to it."
For the first time in months, Phillip felt like everything was going to be okay.
Author's notes: I always wondered what the King of Alexandria was like. It's mentioned that he and Queen Brahne had a good relationship, so what kind of a guy was he? For that matter, what kind of a woman was she before she went off the deep end? I think she was at least partially responsible for what happened to her – to absolve her of all responsibility for her actions would drain an awful lot of the interest out of her as a character.
Disclaimer: Queen Brahne, Princess Garnet, and Final Fantasy IX belong to Squaresoft. I claim nothing but the design of this wee story. The title of the story is inspired by the France Anatole quote, "Hell is truth seen too late."