"What about this one?" Balthier held up a slinky goldenrod yellow evening gown and surveyed it critically.
"You are not dressing me, Balthier. You are dressing Penelo," Fran looked over the gown with appreciation. "She'd look horrid in that color."
Balthier made a face of thoughtful agreement and offered the dress to Fran. "Does that mean you want it, then?"
"Absolutely not. Since when do I wear such things?" Fran flipped through the racks, dismissing everything wordlessly.
"True enough," was Balthier's concession. He replaced the hanger on the rack and kept searching.
"She is not like the other lovers you have taken, is she?" Fran's hands made quick work of all the hangers, her eye critical on every gown she saw.
Balthier shifted his weight to his other leg, a little uncomfortable with her assessment. "She's certainly having none of my shit if that is what you mean."
Fran smiled, "Not exactly." Her smile faded, "If you lose your heart to the child..."
Balthier shot Fran a hard look, "If you are jealous..."
"When have I ever been jealous of your trysts?" The Viera scoffed at the idea. "It is not you that I have any concern for. Your soul knows where it is home however far your body and heart may stray. If you lose your heart to her, it will be unfair of you to not tell her."
Now it was Balthier's turn to scoff, "I doubt if my loving her will make any amount of difference whether she is aware of it or not. What about green?"
Fran gave the dress he pulled out a long look. "The color is good, but she would be uncomfortable with the slit up the leg. It will make all the difference in the world when you part ways. Because you will and it will be you who leaves her, as always."
"Cold comfort for her then." Balthier twitched his eyebrows and the two had a short, non-verbal argument.
As could be expected, Fran won. "Fine, I'll tell her. I can't see what good will come of it though."
Penelo was different than the tramps he spent little time and energy on. She had wisdom beyond her years and good sense too. She could content herself with having found and lost the one person who could make her perfectly happy if she knew that her returned her love. Bliss would have been hers for a short while and she would be able to find imperfect happiness and live the rest of her days comfortably. Fran could see this even if Balthier cold not and she chose to keep her own counsel on the subject.
"Here," she pulled out a confection of pink satin that was free of ruffles but had a sprinkling of glass beads on the bodice. "The color is right for her, though she will profess to hate it. And it is not cluttered with unnecessary frills. And the full skirt will disguise the hips she has such a distaste for."
Balthier kissed her cheek and professed his gratitude. Fran left him to the task of paying or bartering his way out of the shop. She turned her steps to a jewelers shop on the same street. The dress might be good for one night's revels, but the jewels for the hume-girl would be real. Fran would make sure of that.
