She couldn't have prepared herself for it, not with the way L'Arachel faced her, filled with a sudden resolve, and certainly not here, in the castle's designated tea room. L'Arachel, who had become enamored with the drink after tasting a number of exotic varieties on a visit to the desert country of Jehanna, had requested that one of the small, empty boarding rooms be set aside for the consumption of tea. It was to be decorated with a delicate and discerning eye. Crochet, gauze, and satiny weave: all three came together to produce a tea room of muted whites and pastels.
The wrought iron teapots, severe beside Rausten's dainty sets of fine china, evoked images of the armory. L'Arachel said the saucers and teacups were quite enough breakable objects, and the metal kept the tea hot for longer, besides. If the teapot had to fall to the ground, at least it would not go down in very many pieces. Such was the princess's reasoning. Eirika figured it made as much sense as anything else that came out of her mouth, at least on any other day.
Today, however, as they sat beside each other at a small, round table, which was affixed with a three-tiered platter that offered many miniature provisions for the purpose of consumption, Eirika decided that, no, everything that had come out of L'Arachel's mouth in all the days past made absolutely perfect sense. Compared to today, L'Arachel was the genius, and Eirika the dunce. She felt as if she had been played for a fool. Only now was she beginning to understand the reasons behind the troubadour's frustrating verbosity. Rather, L'Arachel had made herself completely unambiguous only today.
And she looked very pleased with herself. That was the worst part. It was Eirika's problem alone now. She wanted to protest, and tell her to take her adulations, however misguided and sincere, back, swallow them whole, and keep them to herself, for however long it took for the false sentiments to bid themselves away. She was furious, with the kind of indignation that could only come from a deep-seated fear of the unknown. It was a demon rising out of the darkness. It was infatuation at its worst. It was L'Arachel, quite convinced that she, not unlike a number of other people, had fallen for the solitary princess of Renais, and waiting for an answer that Eirika absolutely would not give her.
"Well of course I can't!" she blurted out. The voice was her own, the emotions perhaps not so much. Her muscles were tense with provocation. She had overreacted.
"I know," she said, and sighed. "I had figured." An unsatisfying answer, at most.
"Then this discussion is over." She felt herself relax. Her whole body sank into her seat. She placed her hands around her teacup, only to find that it had grown cold. The entire room, whimsical as it had seemed at first glance, felt lifeless.
L'Arachel smiled at her. Only yesterday, she would have taken it for being completely unfeigned.
Her guest quarters at the Court were always in the same room-lavishly furnished, like anything else L'Arachel could get her hands on, but with those same utilitarian touches that Eirika still scratched her head at. She had thought to deliver a silver sword to her room, for instance. Tied to it was an elixir. She did not want Eirika without some means of defending herself in a crisis, and cited the occasional raids from the westerly Darkling Woods. She encouraged her to take both items back home if she did not require their services here. Surely she could make use of them at some point; after all, the journey back home would be a long one.
The stay already felt long. L'Arachel's attitude toward her had only barely changed; she appeared a little more sullen, and acted even more subdued than usual. It had been shyness at first, Eirika had realized, and then, defeat. Her presence alone had managed to affect the princess of Rausten so immeasurably, she regretted not noticing it earlier. She wanted to apologize for her brusqueness, and then... what? It had come as a shock, sure enough, but she felt nothing afterward. Life would go on; it would stay like this indefinitely. She knew L'Arachel. She would be miserable, but then overcome it. She would marry and have children. It meant nothing if they decided it did. This entire affair would fade into oblivion, a silly childhood memory.
Her confusion passed like the tides. She rose from her bed, and, after a second thought, buckled the silver sword around her waist. Her door creaked open, and she paced the halls by torchlight. Something in her chest stirred. Longing, or nostalgia, or-she thought after a pregnant pause-alarm.
"H-hey, it's me! C-calm down..."
When she finally realized what had happened, the tip of her sword was already pressed against the neck of one of L'Arachel's retainers: Rennac, the rogue from Carcino. She sheathed the blade. "I'm sorry, Sir Rennac. I wasn't thinking straight."
He touched his neck gingerly. "Right, right... Now that we have that cleared up, what on earth are you doing at this time of night?"
"I should be asking the same of you."
"I'm on night patrol, didn't you know?" Rennac snickered. "I've got excellent eyes."
"I see. I was just... pondering."
"Were you? I know a certain someone who could use a little more of that."
"You don't give her enough credit. I'm sure she's saved your life often enough."
"Aye, she does, but she speaks without pause for thought. Even when she's not around I can hear still her voice ringing in my ears, telling me to be satisfied with my life and my mediocre pay. How come she isn't the same around you?"
Eirika paused. "That is a good question."
"I will admit I'm not the nicest person around, though L'Arachel... I'd ask if you ever get sick of her overreactions, but she's so different around you, it probably doesn't feel that way."
"Do you think she's paying me... special attention?"
"Of course. She behaves around you as if you were her own dear mother. Not that she has one, eheh... Might be why she does that."
"I don't think..."
"That's the case? Well, it was only a guess."
"Sir Rennac..."
"Yes, Princess?"
"I can see you're very kind to her."
Rennac creased his brows. "Am I really?"
"In your own way. You remind me a little of the prince of Frelia."
"Hah! What a comparison. That arrogant brat?" He shook his head. "I've learned my lesson about conceit. When you become obsessed with money, or power, or perfection... Or love. They all turn out the same way. You don't see anything anymore. The world, it just becomes so small, and awful. You'll never be happy if you stay that way. You've got to learn to change."
"Do you think L'Arachel is the same way?"
"I can't say for certain. She's changing, obviously-she's so young, so naive. She doesn't know anything, but she's learning quickly. I think she'll make a fine queen if she continues the way she is. Especially after the war, the world's opened up before her like a book. Hasn't it?"
"Indeed it has. War is so terrible, that we must learn to accept the blessings it offers us. I am glad to experience the things that I have, and to have met you and L'Arachel and everyone. We could not have won without your help."
"Certainly. I'm sure you'd make a fine employer yourself."
"Oh, no... I couldn't. L'Arachel's far too attached to you."
"You think so too? Ah... It seems that way, doesn't it?"
"Yes. I'm sure of it." She smiled at him, a gentle turning of the lips. "I feel much better now. Thank you, Sir Rennac."
"It was nothing."
"I believe I will return to my quarters. Good night."
"Good night, Princess."
Eirika headed back for her room. When she stopped to look for Rennac in the darkness, he had vanished. The door to her room groaned shut, and as she lay back down, she felt sleepy, for once.
The next day, L'Arachel had taken Dozla and Rennac out to do... something; the task was never specified. Eirika figured the princess would require a little more time to clear her own head, but as of the moment Eirika felt contented with herself, as if a heavy burden had been taken off her chest. L'Arachel lamented that they could not spent more time together, but the matter was apparently urgent. She instead sent Eirika to spend time with her uncle, the Pontifex, until she returned from her divine duties. He was to be her opponent in backgammon, a game L'Arachel had learned to play from Prince Joshua of Jehanna. They sat face-to-face, on either end of the board.
"Pontifex..."
"Please, call me Mansel. You've been here often enough by now."
"Then... Lord Mansel. How has L'Arachel been faring, in your eyes?"
"The same as always, I believe."
"Really?"
"You've caught that pensive glint of sorts in her eye, haven't you? It might surprise you to hear this, but... She's always been like that. I won't say her cheeriness is a ruse, but... She lost her parents at a very young age, you see."
"I know. She told me."
"Did you? Then what are you wondering about?"
"I..." She hesitated, clutching the two dice in her hand. "I was merely wondering. Since the war, I'm sure she's behaved differently, somehow-we all have."
"I don't doubt that. L'Arachel is learning to grow up very quickly. She sees you and King Ephraim, rebuilding Renais. She sees King Joshua in the south ruling Jehanna. So much has changed, but here, in Rausten? Demons are an everyday occurrence. We lose men every time another raid occurs, and we can do nothing to stop it. I'm sure she's provided you with a weapon of some sort to defend yourself; their movements are wild, unpredictable. When they strike, they strike with no warning. She must feel very helpless, having lost her parents to those very same monsters. If anything, I'd say she wants to become an adult sooner, rather than later, and defend the kingdom with her own two hands."
"I never realized... They were still happening..."
"You are very lucky in that regard. What did you think they were?"
"Remnants of the war, or... I don't know. I never paid much thought to it; L'Arachel always managed to distract me with one thing or another."
"Well, she wouldn't want you to worry about that. Recently, however, we've been experiencing something of a resurgence."
"I see. I'll keep that in mind." She rolled the dice, a 5-2, and moved her pieces.
"Ah, despite that, please try to enjoy yourself." Mansel picked up the dice. "As our honored guest, you are welcome to anything the Court has to offer."
"This is going to sound like a strange question," she said abruptly, "but has she-has L'Arachel-ever disobeyed your word?"
"Hm! I suppose she behaved the way you'd expect any rambunctious young girl to. Dozla always attended to her, though. That man never left her out of his sight, not once. Even if she could have, I don't think she ever did. She was deeply aware, in a way, of what endangering herself would mean to the rest of the Court."
"So... She really wouldn't." Eirika turned to face the board. She had rolled a 3-3.
"Had she lived a more carefree life, then perhaps," he chuckled. "But with all these monsters around-not a chance. Why do you think she has devoted herself to the healing arts? She recognizes the value of life."
"Surely she can't be all that altruistic. No one is... I'm certainly not."
6-1. "I didn't say she was perfect, did I?"
4-5. "But... Have you ever wondered what she... really desires?"
1-1. "Perhaps, but I'm sure she does the same. She's nearly as old as you are, hmm? I'm sure you can sympathize with those... wandering feelings. Stray thoughts. We've all had them. Who is anyone to say what we truly desire? It changes all the time."
"That's true." Eirika rolled the dice around in her hand. "But what if it doesn't change? Some desires are not on quite the same level as mere whimsy."
Mansel smiled. "If she is that committed to seeking out something, then who am I to stop her? When this old body passes on, there will be no authority left to guide her. I must allow her to make her own decisions. That is the only way she will learn."
"I wish I had half the faith you did, Pontifex."
"It is something you must teach yourself to do. Trusting anybody is rather difficult. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I... Yes, I would." She rolled. "But those that I do, I trust with all my heart." She thought of Lyon. "It is a weakness sometimes, I feel."
"But it is also a great strength. You will find it difficult to maintain that trust as the years go on. When people age, they begin to regret. And when they regret, they grow bitter. You must know the feeling."
"It's... awful."
"It is a gift, being able to give of yourself wholeheartedly. People will open up to you in return."
"I know, I just..."
"What?"
"Sometimes I loathe my own popularity."
"Ha!" Mansel laughed. "That's a new one, I must admit. Not terribly fond of L'Arachel's affections, are we? Though, she respects you, you know. If you'd ask her to stop lavishing you with gifts and attention, I'm sure she would tone it down a little. She just likes you; that's it. Even if only out of necessity, you've provided her with a world of new experiences. She must feel that she owes you a lot."
"Ah... Yes. It seems that way. It's strange, but, I seem to have grown accustomed to it over the past few months. It just seems to be the way she does things-extravagantly, with no sense of scale. Even the very words that come out of her mouth... They all seem to be decorated and adorned with...excess. I've never spoken to her about it; I've always just taken it for granted."
"Perhaps it's time you started to discuss it, then? If she'll listen to anyone, she'll listen to you."
"I... I know. I understand. I've been rather dismissive of her feelings. It really isn't fair to her." Eirika stared at the board. "I guess... It just never occurred to me, what sort of person she actually is."
L'Arachel and her small band of troops returned at sunset, but Eirika discovered that she was far too exhausted to eat, let alone hold a conversation. She had gone straight to sleep after returning to the Court. Rennac was nowhere to be found, either. Her conversation partner was Dozla, who, ridiculously robust as he was, seemed more than happy to speak to her.
The berserker was a stocky, muscular man, a far cry from the sinewy litheness of Rennac or the delicate, girlish figure of L'Arachel. He resembled a dwarf, with his bushy beard and eyebrows, and his eyes gazed out from beneath his brow so intensely that Eirika immediately noticed the whites of his eyes, the pupils etched starkly onto his face. Despite his relative shortness, he exuded a sense of power. Scars crisscrossed his bare arms.
"She told me, you know."
"She told you..." Eirika echoed. They stood in an empty parlor, free of guests. Their only guest for the next two days would be Eirika.
"Well, it surprised me as much as anything else could. Who could've known, right? I'm sure she had to think about it for a long time, herself!" Dozla made his way to an overstuffed armchair and fell back into it. "You saw her, didn't you? Moping around and all. She'll recover in time, but, I suppose she has to experience the feeling once or twice. Heartbreak, or, infatuation-something like that," he mumbled. "Never claimed to know what she was really feeling, you know."
"I..." Eirika hesitated. She moved to a couch, and sat down on it. "I... really have to wonder about that. I honestly don't know what to think. Was she serious?"
"Was she serious!" Dozla roared back. "She couldn't have been more serious if she'd taken an arrow through the heart. And maybe she did, in a way. She has plenty of chances for love and whatnot. But, well, I guess you had to be her first. And you're a pretty young thing, no less. I'm sure you've been a few people's firsts."
"I just can't fathom it."
"What? You've never been in love before?"
"Well, I..."
"I haven't either, if you have to know. Nope. Been working for the Court all my life, I have. Never once laid eyes on a lady I particularly liked. Nor a man, for that matter. So I don't understand it at all, gwahaha!" He leaned back into the chair.
"But, it's just..."
"You're not worried that it's between girls, is it? You know, I bet that sort of thing happens all the time. Just that no one ever talks about it. Who would? It messes the whole thing up. You get married, maybe, but you can't have kids. What're you going to do, handpick an heir?"
"Sir Dozla..."
"Princess, I can't claim to know a darned thing about love, or girls, or any of that stuff. But you just look so confused right now, you know? My heart aches for ya; aye, it does. So I think I'm just going to tell you what everyone else is probably gonna tell you: follow your gut!"
"My... gut?" she said, frowning.
"That's right! What else do you rely on in the middle of a battle? Your gut instinct! And when it comes to feelings, or emotions, you can only think about it so much before your head starts to hurt, and you get all frustrated."
"You have a point," she finally conceded. "It would be impossible to make a rational decision; the matter's just too... subjective."
"Exactly! Or, err, something like that. Besides, it's not like L'Arachel's just been admiring you from afar or anything. You know her too, don't you? I believe in you. So! Go ahead. Tell her what's up."
"That's much easier said than done."
"Well, won't you be talking to her anyway? You can't hide from her forever."
"Of course." She almost felt like being contrary for the sake of it, by now. Everything he had just said was more or less true. "I just don't know what my answer will be. She must have put so much thought into... everything, that anything I tell her will sound like an excuse."
"What if you tell her yes?"
"Then obviously I... I can't do that," she said, brows creasing. "That wouldn't be sincere. It sounds awful, but... I just don't feel the same way."
"But it'd sound like less of an excuse."
"But then I'd just be lying."
"Well, that's pretty awful too! Which is better?"
"To tell the truth, of course."
"And that is..."
"That I just can't return her affections. Though I'd still like to stay friends. But after all this time..." She sighed. "I feel so terrible, like I've been using her. I just-it'll never be quite the same between us, will it?"
"You know what they say: time heals all wounds. She won't be down in the dumps forever."
"But what about me?"
"And what does that mean, lass?"
"I mean..." She stopped. What did she mean? She had no idea what she meant; she might as well have been back in the tearoom yesterday afternoon, staring at that self-satisfied face for what felt like ever, and then reality had come crashing down on her and nothing had resolved itself at all. She felt like hell. "I have no idea what I mean, actually." Her muscles were starting to tense up again. She wondered maybe if she had been sitting down for too long. "I've spent so much time trying to figure her out that I've hardly had the time to figure myself out." She stood up and looked down at the man. "Thank you, and good bye. I..." She exhaled. "I think I need some fresh air."
The air outside was crisp, the winds brisk, the sky dark. The moon hung high and full in the sky, like a round, ripe fruit. Spring had not yet arrived in Rausten; the landscape seemed sullen, expectant. Eirika walked gingerly around the castle perimeter. The Court was quiet tonight. She imagined L'Arachel and her men battling demons in broad daylight-a full-scale war against the perpetual forces of darkness. She was their guest. They could not expect her to fight. All the same, she wished she had gone with them. She would rather be aching and tired than anxious and frustrated. Maybe L'Arachel had even forgotten about yesterday already.
Hardly. Eirika sighed. She had never figured out quite what vexed her so much about the initial confession. At that point, she could have throttled L'Arachel at the table. Even now she could feel anger smoldering away in her chest. Perhaps it was toward herself, for not realizing Lyon's feelings earlier. He had told her he loved her with his dying breath, and now it was long past too late. Perhaps it was toward L'Arachel, for making her think of him again, however inadvertently. It was probably both. It might have been neither. None of the answers she was coming up with satisfied her, and none of them would, either. She would have to tell L'Arachel no, and L'Arachel would have to deal with it. Or, if she told her yes-well, that was a whole other matter, and not one worth considering. She had made up her mind by now. Whatever bothered her would just have to wait until this whole ordeal was over and done with.
"I have to apologize for yesterday." They walked, side by side, on the castle grounds. The morning sun beamed down on them. The air felt warmer than yesterday's, and the breezes were gentle. The day felt blessed. "I did not mean to shock you so-I only hope you can forgive me for being so... so gauche," said the princess of Rausten, looking much subdued, and yet somewhat eager.
"You've no need of apology, L'Arachel. You were only telling me the truth, and besides, I... overreacted. It's just, the last time I heard that, it was from-"
"Lyon. I remembered. I felt terrible. I had never intended to remind you of him, and the memory must still be so fresh..."
"Still, you shouldn't regret what you did. Lyon could only tell me on the verge of death, but you-you are very brave. I cannot return your feelings, as I do not feel the same way, but I'd rather you tell me than hide it from me."
"Well of course. Lyon was a very shy young man, wasn't he? I should like to think I'm the exact opposite of him! Say, Eirika." L'Arachel stopped walking, and turned around to face her.
"Yes?"
"I'm curious, did you love him?"
"Lyon? No. He was very shy. It was difficult to get close to him. Sometimes I felt as if he was avoiding me, and now I know that to be the truth. But he was very thoughtful, very gentle, and very kind. You would have liked him."
"He sounds very non-threatening."
"Non... I suppose that's one way to describe him..."
"From what I understand, though, he envied your brother deeply. It seems so strange that he had such... grievances. Ephraim is rather attractive, I'll give him that." L'Arachel seemed to ponder the thought. She continued at length, "But to have that anger festering in him for so long! It just isn't healthy. He should have told him before it started to consume him. The Demon Lord, if Lyon had only had the strength of heart to face himself, then..."
"Then perhaps things wouldn't have turned out the same way. That is true."
"It is quite difficult to be honest with yourself, though."
"It is..."
"Sometimes you can't even be certain of what that means."
"Precisely."
"Eirika," she looked her in the eyes, "I have only known you for so long, and yet I am convinced that I would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of my life with you." Her eyes strayed toward the ground. She paused. "I am sorry to hear that you do not feel the same way, but I am not going to sulk and moan about it. You have borne a great many terrible burdens upon your shoulders, and I would be a horrible friend to burden you even more. So I will lay the matter aside. I can do nothing else."
Eirika could find nothing to say to that. It had gone even better than she had expected it to. "You're just going to give up?" Not the reply she had been aiming to give, either.
L'Arachel looked flabbergasted. "Ex-excuse me?" she sputtered. "You were the one who told me no!"
"Well..."
"Well, what? Are you going to change your mind?"
"Erm... I just..."
"Honestly," she folded her arms, "trying to please everyone today, aren't we? Did my speech about Lyon strike a chord with you?"
"I... I was just so convinced I was going to lose you..." She stared at the ground. She might have even looked embarrassed. She definitely felt that way.
"Why on earth would I-I mean..." L'Arachel blushed. "What are you trying to say? I'm not so conceited that I would just... stop talking to you. Didn't you hear a word I said?"
"I know, but... I just didn't think you would be quite so-accepting of the matter."
"Well, someone's full of herself." She rolled her eyes. "What else were you expecting? That I was going to supplicate you at your feet? I may-I mean-but I'm not that obsessed..." She stomped her foot. "You know what I mean! No! I'm a perfectly reasonable person, at least when it comes to matters of utmost importance. I'm not a child, and I haven't lost myself to anything at all. I know what it is to be responsible. I just don't feel the need to act that way all the time; it's tiring, and terribly sobering, and the world really needs to lighten up once in a while. There are so many dreary things happening around us already. Why add to it?"
Eirika stared at her as if she were a completely different person.
"Eirika."
"Ah..." Her eyes snapped back into focus. "Yes?"
"Whatever is the matter with you?"
"I... I can't say I know you at all, can I?"
L'Arachel inhaled. Her chest rose. Then she exhaled. Her chest fell. "I suppose not. Now will you please wipe that stupid look off your face."
"Um... I'm, I'm really sorry. I must look like an idiot right now. I never considered your feelings at all. You're... just too good of an actress when it comes to concealing your true emotions. And-it seems unfair that I reject you, now. I hardly know you. I don't have the authority to say what I think about you, at least not now."
"I, I... You know what?" L'Arachel huffed. "Let's just forget any of this happened and start over." Her face was an excellent shade of red. "Clean slate."
"It's a little too late for that now..."
"B-but... You just can't-and I already told you-and you're just going to put it off? That is miserably unfair!"
"L'Arachel, I had no idea. Besides, I haven't the proper knowledge to tell you anything!"
"Do you know how long I had been preparing myself to tell you? Weeks. Months! And now you're just going to-what am I supposed to do, sit around and twiddle my thumbs?"
"Well... You've waited long enough, haven't you?"
"Absolutely not! You must be mad!" L'Arachel glared at her, but her anger was hardly convincing. Eirika saw it for the complete confusion it was, mainly because she had been feeling the same just a moment ago. She braced herself for the likely consequences.
"I still like you, you know," Eirika conceded.
"You!" It had been worth a try. "You just shut your mouth, you smug little..." Her insults grew incoherent. Eventually they stopped altogether. She snapped her mouth shut and ran off.
Eirika didn't bother to chase her. This discussion, she realized, was far from over.
Eirika left the next day, with the blessings of Latona, Mansel, and possibly L'Arachel herself. She'd had to spend most of the day before talking to other people, as L'Arachel had tried to avoid her at every possible turn. If Eirika did try to speak to her, L'Arachel ignored her or gave her flat responses. Rennac called her an idiot. Dozla looked fairly amused himself, and Mansel accepted it with grace worthy of his title of Pontifex. Now that she had to see Eirika off, she looked heartbroken.
L'Arachel took one of Eirika's hands into her own. "I'm sorry I had to spend most of Thursday fighting monsters. It was not an ideal experience for either of us."
"Your uncle explained the situation to me perfectly yesterday. It was the full moon, wasn't it?"
"Ah, yes... The phases of the moon seem to have something to do with it. The beasts become very excited at the sight of the full moon; it is a truly horrid thing to behold."
"I am glad you were unharmed."
"If only I could say that about the rest of our soldiers... Ah!" L'Arachel let go of her hand. "You must be going off now. I can't have you losing daylight."
"I am not in a hurry, L'Arachel." Eirika smiled. To her it might have seemed more of a leer.
She flushed. "Oh, shush. Just because you seem to have found some new reservoir of confidence lurking deep down in the ugliest part of your soul, it gives you no license to mock me." L'Arachel set her face in a frown.
"But I wasn't mocking you..."
"Just go home!"
Eirika laughed. "All right, all right."
"The next time you see me, it will be in your home country of Renais! I hear the late spring blooms are spectacular."
"Then... I'll be waiting. Farewell. And send my regards to your uncle; he is an excellent host, as always."
"Yes, yes. Goodbye, Eirika, and anticipate my visit with great fervor! It will be so wonderful, and so splendid, it will wipe that silly smirk right off your face..."
