Solution's to last week's puzzles:

Maes' Puzzle: COM(PET)E [Come = arrive, clutching darling = pet, total: Compete]
Roy's anecdote in his letter: How are you? (Hughes, Oswin, Wells, Arbor, Roswell, Eames, Yvette, Octavia, Ursula?)
The letter's cryptogram: Indicated, Indicted [Though I knew they indicated I did it, It's a shame I was indicted. Deletion.]

No more than a short train ride away from Ashford, Riza was fairly certain that she and her father didn't live in the small city of Flamel was because there were too many other alchemists in town. That didn't stop her, however, from attending school there, spending her weekdays at Flamel's Boarding Academy for Girls. It was one thing in Berthold Hawkeye's mind to stay away from the veritable town of ivory towers and alchemy, it was another entirely for his daughter to miss out on some of the best education Eastern had to offer.

Which meant she didn't miss out on the sweeping lives of the girls that attended Flamel Academy either.

"Rizaaaa," a bright voice whined from across the room. Riza turned to look up from her desk, watching her taller, olive-skinned and brown-haired roommate glide towards her, tray of snacks in hand. "—I still can't believe you got a letter from someone sending it through the care of the military. I was waiting for a letter from Christopher."

Shaking her head, Riza returned her attention to the letter before her. What an idiot he had been. "It's nothing special, Yvette. Didn't Christopher just leave yesterday? How would he have had time to send a letter already?" She said, trying to ease her roommate's complaints. Upon a second thought, Riza pushed her chair back and smiled back at the other girl. "Welcome back, by the way. I hope your send off went well."

Yvette grinned widely, white teeth gleaming as she nodded. "More than well," she said with a sly look shot Riza's way. Riza's brows raised lightly, uninterested in the private details, but quite sure that Yvette would want some reaction of some sort that was encouraging. Christopher was a nice enough young man, based off of the one or two occasions Riza had met him. Barely twenty and a dark auburn ginger with rich blue eyes, it wasn't hard to see why Yvette had been so deeply attracted to him. He was amiable and had a deep voice several timbres lower than one might expect, with a southern accent and city-boy charm. He'd also enlisted in the Eastern military after finishing up his job in Flamel, and Yvette had 'seen him off' the night before, not even bothering to make her curfew. Riza had covered for her, but only after much coercion and the admittance that this was indeed a one-time occasion.

It took Riza a moment to realize Yvette had continued talking as she let her mind wander back to the rebellions further east, snapping back only as Yvette's voice reached a nearly ear piercingly excited pitch. "—And then he proposed!"

The gasp coming from Riza was at the very least an honest response. "He what? Yvette, he proposed to you?" Her chair clattered against the desk as she pushed back completely, and rose to her feet, watching for the other girl's expression. At seventeen, she was a little young to be getting married, but it wasn't unheard of for an eighteen year old to do so. Although, Christopher was leaving…

"He did!" she squealed, thrusting her left hand out for Riza to examine. Her hands flew to her roommate's palm, taking it into her own grasp as she inspected the ring that now adorned Yvette's finger. It was simple, but elegant. It was a solitary diamond setting, a warm gold band with a modestly beautiful gem in the center.

"I…" Riza managed, dubiously smiling for the benefit of her roommate. "I'm happy for you. But doesn't this make it harder that he's going to be gone?" she asked cautiously, releasing Yvette's left hand.

"Oh Riza, don't be so pessimistic." Yvette laughed, waving her hand lightly. "He has a brief tour of the area bordering Ishval, and then he's coming back. You don't honestly think the Ishvalans stand a chance against us in continuing their riots, do you? They don't even have a standing military, they still use swords and monks." Smiling sweetly, Yvette sat prettily on her pink bed sheets once more while admiring her ring. Riza blinked, unsure of what to say. They hadn't studied Ishval too closely in class, but she'd done her own readings once it became clear that the civil unrest was rocketing, and threatening to become serious.

True, the Ishvalans had monks. But Riza thought it best not to correct her friend that those monks were considered to be holy warriors, and that as far as she knew, the swords were just as ceremonial as the Amestrian ones. They had guns too, and more importantly, they had a cause to rally behind. Several Amestrian towns had already been burned down in the midst of rioting. To underestimate the Ishvalans would be to sit on a powder keg with matches in hand. Which was exactly what the additional presence of the military men in the eastern borders seemed to be doing.

Shaking her head, Riza looked away before gathering her thoughts. "I suppose you're right." She said politely. "I hope I'll be invited to this wedding?"

Yvette's eyes lit up. "Oh Riza, of course you will be! My sister will be my maid of honor of course, but I want you there at my side. You and a plus one, hmm?" she purred, nudging Riza with a teasing elbow.

"You want me to take my father?" Riza asked, taken aback.

"No silly! Whoever your mystery letter writer is…you still haven't told me what you did all summer, and I'm just dying to know!"

Smirking Riza stepped back to her desk. "Did you ever consider I haven't told you because I'm trying to break you of a few bad habits, like your nosiness?"

At this, Yvette pouted. "Aw, Riz, you're no fun."

"And you," Riza remarked pointedly, "-are a terrible gossip." She said with a laugh. "I caught up on some studies, and that was about it." Pulling her chair back out, she sat down again, opening her desk drawer to pull out a fresh sheaf of paper to write on.

"I wish you kept a diary. Then I might actually know what you're up to…"

"Did you ever think that's maybe why I don't keep a diary, Yvette?" Riza said, uncapping her pen, writing in the high left corner - 5, November 1903.

"Spoilsport." Her roommate called back.

"Mmm." Riza hummed, pen dancing easily across the page as she continued the letter.

Mister Mustang, she wrote, frown already crossing her features. Whatever it is you did, my only response is that I hope you: Feel bad about red wading bird (6) it.

Two could play at his puzzles game. It had taken her a little while to work out his small puzzle, but Roy had been right about her penchant for words and wordplay. Secondary to her history studies, Riza had quite the command of the logical breakdowns in letters. She just had never had the head for numbers and elements, nor the desire to practice alchemy that her father had been looking for.

I apologize if this letter is short. Yvette came into the room in a tizzy. She's just announced to me she's planning to get 'In hurt, I hitched (7).' I don't think it's a terribly wise idea right now, but I don't want to be the one to rain on her parade. Still, it won't happen for some time yet, as Christopher is enlisted to serve on his first tour of the Eastern borders. I just don't want her rushing her plans the moment he gets home.

Glancing over her shoulder, Riza looked back to Yvette, who had cracked open one of her Xerxian translations books. The compositions of which Riza knew was due the next day - she was, after all, going to be the teacher's assistant who collected them. Riza had already completed her own composition, and she was fairly certain that between Yvette's excitement over her new ring, and usual impatience, that she would be called over to help sooner rather than later.

A muttered, "I don't see the point in studying dead languages." From her direction proved Riza's hunches right. Fighting from snorting, Riza continued.

As for myself, I am fine. Some of my classes could be better, but we all 'not assuming manners, and that's final (6)'. You do it a little more than you should have to. Perhaps both of us should be studying more.

— R. Hawkeye

"Oh come on, Riza. Stop acting like you're writing a letter and not going to help me with this." Yvette called over, lying back on her bed. Riza stood up, and folded her letter, placing it within an envelope before she placed it between the pages of one of her books.

"Aeul Xerpaeum." Riza replied, with a laugh as she sat down on the bed beside her roommate, folding her legs up underneath her as she leaned to examine her Xerxian composition 1 book.

"What?"

"Well in this case, it means 'All victories'. You'll get to the text it's from in Advanced Level three." Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she adjusted her uniform back over her knees. "Like saying good luck."

Yvette laughed. "I'm amused you have faith that I'm going to go on to advanced III with Xerxian."

Gently nudging Yvette, Riza smiled. "You will if I help you. Come on, let's take a look at the phrases…"

Ah, I thought Riza deserved a good lady friend. :)