AN: Lengthy chappie, not sorry. Gotta establish a coupla things first before I move on to the gooey fluffy stuff.

Aranea had an instant aversion towards scented candles. They were like an abomination upon nature - some synthetic thing trying to be something it is not, and yet the boutique had a stockpile of them. They were burning in almost every corner, polluting the air with a sickly sweet aroma of roses and lilies. Coupled by the sound of windchime instruments playing over the speakers, the staff were clearly trying to evoke the feeling of sparkly elves frolicking in the meadows while farting flower petals.

She sipped her now warm tea, and waited for Lunafreya to emerge from the fitting room. She had to help pick the right outfits for the shoot. Her fingers trailed over layers of silk and lace as she inspected the dresses on the rack, trying to gauge the best colour for each location. Weather forecast had assured them of clear and sunny skies, and she was hoping that Ramuh decides to stay at home and watch sports in the telly instead of rolling into town with his rain and thunder.

"You are not comfortable with my presence," a sedate voice said.

She glanced up at her companion. Gentiana has been seated just as she was when Aranea arrived - hands folded on her lap, eyes closed but listening and observing entirely everything. There was something unnerving about her, and it wasn't just how she so much resembled a living doll.

"You don't eat. Or drink," said Aranea.

"I do not require sustenance like you do...but I enjoy the occasional dish every now and then."

"By dish you mean food, right? Not an actual...dish?"

"Yes."

"Great. So d'you poop and fart and pee too?"

There was a clatter and the curtains parted. Lunafreya stepped out, clad in a splendid mermaid cut gown. She twirled in front of them. "What do you think?" she asked, as two boutique staff materialized and started fussing around with the gown's train.

"This might actually work for the Disc," said Aranea. She started circling around Lunafreya, trying to see the dress from various angles. She took a few snapshots for reference purposes.

"I was thinking perhaps a veil-"

"No. No veil," Aranea automatically said. Then, seeing Lunafreya's questioning look, she added: "We've already got a veil for the last outfit. Why not we put sylleblossoms in your hair for a change? It's very symbolic, adds a personal touch. We need something to represent your region, anyway."

Lunafreya laughed. "You're not very big on veils, are you?"

"What? You can tell?"

"We were fighting over it for a while last time. But then you compromised and we settled on a smaller version."

"Oh. Yeah, well...I was being biased. Sorry. I just think they're very…." Aranea trailed off, trying to think of a proper word. She settled with: "Wishy washy."

"Really? What did you wear at your wedding, then?"

"Oh, I hated my wedding dress. It wasn't what I wanted." Ardyn had somehow talked her into settling with a rather horrendous princess cut Vera Wang, when she actually preferred something much simpler, with no veil. She was no blushing bride, and she was determined not to play that part. "I liked my bouquet, though. When I threw it, it landed on Ravus. He wasn't happy about it." She laughed at the memory.

"It's just that I find it hard, imagining you and Ardyn…" Lunafreya said musingly. Then, suddenly remembering herself, she looked up at Aranea in consternation. "I'm so sorry. I realize it's something very personal…"

"Can you really imagine me with anyone?" Aranea said with a wry smile. "I'd thought of myself as a free spirit, always jumping here and there. Honestly I find myself asking that same question sometimes. How did we even get together? We started out as business partners, and I guess those long hours and late night meetings followed by drinks afterwards somehow made us both believe that maybe it's awesome to be husband and wife who happen to work together. What could possibly go wrong, right? Ugh." She winced.

"Famous last words," said Lunafreya.

"Hah! Right you are. Believe it or not, the first two years were actually great. But then the emperor became his new BFF and that was it. The beginning of the end. We saw less and less of each other everyday until we eventually became nothing more than glorified housemates." She paused, chewing on her lower lip. "It's a terrible day to wake up and realize you don't know the person you married anymore."

"Wow. I...I can't imagine what's that like."

"Don't. It's one of the most alienating feeling anyone could possibly have." Aranea suddenly shuddered, as if she was shaking herself off something unpleasant. "But of course it's bad luck to talk about these things...especially with your upcoming nuptials," she said briskly. "Enough with the pity party already. Let's find the next outfit."

Lunafreya fingered the fabric of her dress, eyes staring at her reflection in the mirror. "I'm not sure if this is what Noctis wants."

"What's there not to like? It's figure-hugging, it's beautiful, it's very va-va-voom. It's not like I'm putting you in a dominatrix costume. Not that I'd care to know if he's into that kinda thing," she muttered the last part.

"No, I don't mean the dress. I meant the wedding. The whole marriage."

"Oh." So it's the good old case of doubt. Every bride worth their salt would go through the same thing, and they'd usually have a group of rah-rah bridesmaids convincing them that the schmuck they're marrying is 'the one'. But Lunafreya had Aranea...and goodness knows that Aranea's the worst agony aunt there ever was. "What exactly are you not sure of?" she asked, and winced because she knows she's not going to like the answer.

"I understand my duties completely," said Lunafreya. "I'm to support Noctis in his endeavours, be his rock during uncertain times. I am to serve the people, provide them comfort and guidance."

Aranea waited. "That's it?"

Lunafreya seemed surprised. "Is there something else?"

"What about your duties to yourself? Your needs?"

"My...needs?"

"What do you want?"

Lunafreya thought about it for a while. "Peace," she finally said. "I wish to live long enough to see a peaceful co-existence between Niflheim and Lucis."

"Yeah, yeah, ok. That's something every beauty pageant contestant would want," said Aranea, secretly doubting that the Emperor would ever be in a sharing mood wherever Lucis was concerned. "Look: if you could do anything you like, right this moment...what would it be? Eat fifty hotdogs? Go skinny dipping? Learn how to rollerskate? What?"

"I suppose I...I'd like to go someplace where no one recognizes me."

"Wow. Now that's a tough one."

"And, I'd want to drive a car."

"What, you've never learned?"

Lunafreya shook her head. "I've been chauffeured my entire life."

"Wow. That's just...wow."

"I've seen lots of people do it. Can't possibly be that hard now, can it?"

"No, but...you'd still need a license for it."

"What about you? What do you want?"

"Right now?" Aranea looked thoughtfully into the distance. "A big chocolate sundae and a live jazz band."

"Ah," said Lunafreya with a smile. "A very interesting choice indeed."

"You still haven't told me what's really bothering you."

Lunafreya turned around and settled down on a chaise lounge. The two shop assistants reappeared, clucking about like chickens as they fussed with her train again, arranging it so that it spilled over the floor rather attractively. Once they were done, they retreated back to whatever corner they'd been hiding.

"Noctis has been rather distant sometimes," said Lunafreya. "I tried to ask him what's wrong, but he wouldn't tell me."

"Job-related stress, maybe?"

"That's a given. Well...I know you said that this should be a happy moment for us both. But if anything else, it has made him worry even more. Ignis told me that he's been having trouble sleeping." Lunafreya sighed. "What would you do if you were in my shoes?"

"You want the truth?"

"As well as you could give me."

Aranea took in a deep breath, musing over her answer. Lunafreya was a dream, an aspiration for the common folk. They love her, but they don't really know her. She exists well beyond this vision of perfection that her minders had crafted for her, and Aranea could see how stifling that could be. She can't imagine Lunafreya ever kicking back after a royal function, feet on the table and demanding a root beer...because that's what Aranea would do if she was a princess. But that's the whole problem right there. In fairytales, girls tend to want to be the princess. Aranea preferred the villain, because there's always something inherently honest about bad guys.

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," she eventually said. "For starters, they're two sizes smaller." She smiled when that made Lunafreya laugh. "Take him somewhere real quiet...not to make out. But to lay down all your cards. Yours and his. Tell him how you feel and then ask him how he feels. Chances are, he's not sure about the marriage too...because this whole thing is a gamble. Let him know what's important to you. Better yet? You two make a list of do's and don't's in your marriage. I know it sounds silly...but trust me: it's better to be clear about these things sooner rather than later."

"Make a list?"

"Yeah. And you. You can't just exist for other people. Stop thinking like that. You're no good to anyone if you can't take care of yourself. People're always assuming they know how to do your job better. Well, don't let them. You do it your way, and you'll do it the right way."

"But I still don't know what is the the right way."

"If you find yourself saying that, then you do know what's the right way."

"I don't know what you mean...but somehow it makes sense."

"Weird, right? I surprise myself with my own advice sometimes."

Lunafreya reached out with her hand. Hesitatingly, Aranea took it. They intertwined fingers. "Thank you, Aranea. For lending an ear."

"Plenty more where that came from. Can't guarantee you I'd say the right thing, though."

Gentiana opened her eyes, watching Lunafreya disappear back into the fitting room. Aranea had once again busied herself with the items on the shelves. She picked up a fedora, and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror. She tipped the hat down into a more fetching angle, sliding two fingers over the rim as a mocking gesture of a salute. She then whipped the hat off her head and did a rather peculiar bow, almost theatrical in execution, as if everything about her was a show. Then suddenly realizing that she just did something silly, she tossed the hat aside, muttering something along the lines of 'Stupid dumbass'.

Aranea had struck Gentiana as a somewhat...spiky woman. Beneath that sardonic gaze and sassy smile lies a simmering rage which she'd used to propel herself throughout life and pretty much smash every single obstacle she'd ever come across along the way. It could be easy to dismiss her flightiness as childish, but no one understood the true weight of responsibility better than her. She had the toughness and cynicism of someone who'd seen far too many cruelty and injustices in her life, and had somehow made it a personal vendetta to fight them in her own flippant, sarcastic way. You had to admire a person who stuck it up to bullies and tyrants, even if that person was so coloured by moral ambiguity.

"You're staring at me again. Did I grow an extra head and not realize it?"

Gentiana smiled that serene smile of hers. Aranea had the notion that the world could go off like hell in a handbasket and that woman would still smile like that. It's alright, as if she was saying. Things will sort themselves out. "You are an anomaly."

"Yeah?" said Aranea, wondering what the heck she was talking about. "Well, I take that as a compliment. No point in being predictable."

"Work has kept your mind off your son. You miss him terribly, of course. But fret not. He will speak to you soon."

Aranea stopped whatever she was doing almost instantly. She'd heard the stories. Citadel underlings tend to blab if you're friendly enough with them. There's talk of Gentiana's clairvoyant powers, of how she was an incarnation of Shiva herself. Aranea had dismissed them as idle gossip at first, until she'd actually met the woman. Her instincts jangled everytime they're close, and within good reason too. This was someone who can stare into your soul and dredge up uncomfortable bits about yourself. Aranea hated people like that on principle.

"Okay, I'll bite. How soon? Next week? Next month?" she said jokingly.

"Today."

"Hah! I knew you're big on dispensing fortune cookie wisdom, but that is batshit crazy."

"There are no tricks. I speak only the truth."

"Then why don't you try offering Lunafreya some advice? Because she's clearly having second thoughts about this marriage, and frankly...I don't blame her."

"How could I? She turned to you for counsel, and you've given it. Your words give her comfort. That is more than anyone could ever do for her." Gentiana smiled that smile of hers. "You have a great many secrets."

"Hyeah, sure. Who doesn't?" Aranea grumbled.

"But there is one which I do not think you should keep."

"And what could that be?"

"The father should know who the boy really is."

"Okay, so for the grand finale, we're doing a big concert on the night before the wedding. It'll be at the Delta Arena - the biggest stadium in the city. There'll be live artist performances, holographic and pyrotechnic shows, and guest appearances of star cosplayers. We'll show your final video before revealing Noctis and Lunafreya onstage, where they'll be thanking everyone for coming and maybe give a short speech. Afterwards there'll be a fireworks display and then the closing ceremony."

Aranea looked at the marker scribblings on the whiteboard, interspersed by location stills of the stadium, conceptual art of the event, and photos of the performing artists. There was even a segment titled 'Merchandise' where sketches of t-shirt designs, badges and flags were tacked together.

"Lux Aeterna," she read out. Eternal light.

"The name of the concert," said Iris. "What do you think?"

"I like it. Represents many things. Hope, love. Fuzzy blankets."

Iris beamed. "My team worked really hard around the concept you gave us."

"Which one? The retro space opera? I was just kidding when I said that."

"No, the star-crossed lovers one. The idea about two people, sworn to fight but chose to love instead. That's powerful stuff. Hey, maybe when all of this is done, we could do another feature where we explore positive Lucis-Niflheim relationships. Things like friendship, love and family; how they met, and what they feel about the ongoing war. It could just get the ball rolling towards a ceasefire. You and Ignis could be in it...offer your perspective and all that..."

Aranea could sense the hungry curiosity beneath the girl's words and wisely chose not to rise to the bait. "Looks like you're already doing a great job. You don't need me here." She looked around at the assorted faces before her. Iris had enthusiastically introduced her around the office and its staff, but she'd already forgotten most of their names.

"Of course we need you! You saw the people headlining the event?" They'd managed to wrangle some of the most impressive line-ups - opera singers, pop idols, rock bands and visual artists...all performing with the backup of the philharmonic orchestra and military brass band. "We couldn't get one guy, though...and we really, really need him."

"Who's that?"

"DJ Viper."

"Hah, you mean you need him. Well, good luck with that. He's all booked up till next year." She looked again at the faces around her, most particularly Iris. "You want me to call him, do you?" she said flatly.

"Would you pleeeease? His manager said that he'd get back to us, but so far there's no word."

"That's usually a good sign saying that he's busy."

"But can't you do something? You guys are close, right? You'd practically launched his career!"

"Yeah, but...that doesn't mean we have sleepovers and paint each others' nails while we gossip about boys." Besides being a wizard at the turntable, DJ Viper was also a notorious recluse. He rarely gave interviews, and no one knew how he looked like, due to him wearing a stylized robot helmet everytime he performed. His collaborations with top artists and heavy presence on social media alone bolstered his popularity. When Aranea met him, he was nothing more than a shy but brilliant 18-year-old. She was the one who suggested the helmet when he said that he had terrible stage fright.

"Aranea, pleeasee! Just think of the audience he could pull! We need more eyeballs on your video, and he's gonna help us with that!"

"Iris, that wheedling might work on your brother, but not me. Besides, isn't it your job to make sure that people actually do watch our stuff?"

"Of course! That's what I'm doing. Right now."

Aranea sighed, realizing that she'd walked right into it. Pulling out her phone, she threw a dirty look at the girl before moving away for some privacy. Oh, she wasn't fooled. Underneath all that cuteness and enthusiasm lies a manipulative streak, and Aranea wouldn't be surprised to find out that Iris only got the job because of her father and brother's connection.

A moment later, she came back. "I really hope you have the budget, because he's not cheap. He's in the middle of a vacation."

"Does this mean that he'll do it?" Iris asked breathlessly.

"I only got him to come in and see you. Whether or not he'd do it is up to you."

Iris squealed and hugged Aranea. "Thank you! Thankyouthankyou! I owe you a favour. A big one. Just name it and I'll do it."

"Careful when you say that. 'Coz I just might."

"Name it," Iris repeated firmly.

"Oh, I will. You'd better be ready when I do. And just so that we're both clear - if you get into trouble because of this, it won't get traced back to me; and your brother won't come swinging at me with that big ass sword of his."

"Hey, check this out. It only came in this morning," said Noctis. He went over to his desk and came back with two intricately designed bottles.

"Commemorative fragrances," he explained as he handed one to Ignis. "Calvin Klein actually came up with limited editions for myself and Luna. Every wedding guest is gonna get a set in their gift bags."

Ignis unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. "Hm, sylleblossoms. With a hint of...jasmine? And an undernote of citrus. I take it this is Lady Lunafreya's, then?" He glanced at the delicate cursive script on the bottle: Solis.

Noctis looked at him in amazement. "Damn, you can actually pick up the different smells? I just thought one perfume smells just like the next."

"They have unique personalities. Like people. It is only a matter of separating the layers and seeing it as it is."

"Is there anything that you don't know, Iggy?"

"Geology, perhaps. And also podiatry."

"I don't even know what the hell podiatry is. Anyway, so...this is mine." Noctis's perfume bottle had a distinct dark blue colour. It bore the royal coat of arms, along with a stylized golden flourish forming the word Aeternum. Probably a well-meaning wish for his long and prosperous reign. He spritzed a bit onto Ignis's inner wrist.

"Smells very you," Ignis commented. He handed the Solis bottle back to Noctis.

"That's it? No lengthy dissection of the ingredients?"

"It is a perfume. Not a dish. And besides, I know you well enough to recognize how you'd smell like."

"Aranea's gonna get a set too. Well, she's getting all the other free stuff. As thanks. You think she might like it?"

"I know she will appreciate it. But frankly the light note of sylleblossoms doesn't suit her. Something dark, mysterious and bold would be more up her alley."

"Hah. Of course you'd know that," Noctis said smugly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said in a tone entirely devoid of innocence. He retreated back to his desk. "So what's your take on the concert? Iris is particularly excited about it."

"The budget's rather...excessive. But I believe the people would appreciate it. Please remember to write your own speech this time. We'd like to hear something that is genuinely King Noctis."

"Aw, but you write the best speeches, Iggy!" Noctis exclaimed. "Star-crossed lovers. Hah. Kinda funny concept in a way."

"You do not like it?"

"It's just...not really me and Luna, right? Our parents didn't hate each other. I mean, she practically knew me before I got my pubes...and now, she's marrying me. D'you think she finds it weird?"

"Upon finding out just how much of a lazy slob you really are? Of course. She'll regret her decision for the rest of her life."

"Hey, not funny!" Noctis protested, albeit laughingly. His mirth, though, didn't last long. He sighed as he looked outside the window. "People are talking about peace. I'm all for it, of course. But...I still can't help but wonder if I'm making a big mistake."

"It could take years...centuries, even...for peace to happen. But let it be known that you were the one who took the first step. The king and the Oracle. You can't possibly think of a more auspicious union than that."

"Yeah. Just like you and Aranea."

"I'm afraid things are not as clear cut with her."

"At least the two of you aren't trying to kill each other. That's gotta count as something. Women, huh? They're so complicated. Like...like black holes...and algebra. Was there really no one else after her?"

"I already have my hands full managing your affairs. I don't have time for anything else."

"Well, then. Maybe you should make time. Or do I have to make a royal decree before you'd actually do it?" Noctis tapped his fingers on the desk, eyeing Ignis as he tried to get a read on the man. But Ignis could outstare a cat, and years of dealing with ministers and foreign delegates meant that he'd had far more practice maintaining a neutral composure. Noctis finally gave up. "Did you do that thing I asked you?"

"Yes," said Ignis, a slight note of relief in his voice after been taken off the petri dish. He took a nondescript brown manila file from the coffee table and handed it over to Noctis.

"What do we really know about her?"

"Not much. Military personnel data is hard to come by...as you may well understand. My informant had to make discreet enquiries around the area she used to live in. People hardly remember her. Absent father figure...no other family to speak of. Which is probably why she took up with Ardyn in the first place, hoping that he could fill in that vacuum. Man turns out to be a genocidal maniac, unfortunately. However, there's no evidence showing that she had any prior knowledge nor involvement with his...work."

"That's good. But she could still be convicted as an accessory, though. Her company was used as a front for his money laundering."

"One that she wasn't aware of. As far as she was concerned, it was a legit business."

Noctis opened the file. A much younger Aranea stared up at him. Her hair was cropped short, but it was still that unmistakable shade of ash blonde. Papers rustled as he went through her personal details. Every page was stamped with a bright red 'CLASSIFIED'.

"Top honours student," said Noctis, impressed. "She would've had a stellar military career too, if she hadn't ended it abruptly. Why's that?"

"It happened after she witnessed the attempted suicide of a classmate of hers. That information is buried in her psych eval report. But do take note of her real name."

Aranea Highwind wasn't born 36 years ago. She was another incarnation she'd crafted for herself in her many attempts to escape her past. Before she was Highwind, before she was even Izunia, she was-

"Ulldor. General Caligo's her dad?"

"Yes. You may remember him as the man who led the Tenebrae invasion."

"How can I forget?" Noctis said bitterly. Lunafreya had told him nothing but horror stories of the man. "She's a Chancellor's ex-wife, whose psychopathic dad had probably taught her 5000 ways to kill a man. You really know how to pick 'em, Iggy."

"As I've said before: she's far more complicated than that. And to my defense, I really didn't know her all that well when we first met. Which I probably should have...considering the circumstances."

"What's done is done." Noctis sighed, flipping the file shut. "You think she's a spy?"

"Highly unlikely. She hasn't had a single contact with any of her previous Niflheim acquaintances since she left the capital. It's as if she's gone completely dark. Her credit history checks out, so are her digital footprints. If there is indeed any clandestine operation she's involved in, our agents would've picked it up long ago."

"And that is your professional opinion?"

"Yes."

"Hm. Should we lose her tail, then?"

Ignis paused, weighing his answer. "Probably not just yet."

Okay. Okay. So how do you tell someone that the love child you've been carrying around for nine months is theirs?

Throw a party, perhaps. Or maybe get that person drunk enough and then tell him. Then load up your car and drive as fast as you can to the next state line. It'd get really messed up if Ignis got married someday, had a kid and then that kid decided to marry Julian once they're older. That'll make a super awkward family reunion.

Aranea had already looked, but there was no card that says 'Kon-Kweh-Tulations! You're the father!' at the Hallmark stationery section. Even then, she knew that things like this require a very delicate touch - something that she's really terrible at.

After her meeting with Iris, she marched down the hallway leading to the elevators when she suddenly spotted Ignis and Wedge somewhere in the distance, headed towards her direction. She made a detour into the ladies' room, barrelling through the door and almost knocking aside an orderly who was in the middle of opening it.

She heard Wedge calling out "Lady A!" while she muttered a quick apology to the orderly. The door swung shut behind her. She went to the sink, leaning her hands heavily on the edge as she stared at her own mirror reflection.

She could invite Ignis for dinner, and then tell him. But he might get the wrong impression from the get-go, and frankly, she had no clue how he would react. So probably avoiding public places would be a great idea for now. Barring that, she could also stage a major global catastrophe and just when everything's about to go kablooey, turn to Ignis and tell him the truth. Provided, of course, if she had the means and plans to pull off the whole thing - which she doesn't.

What had been her most basic tenet of all time? Tell it as it is. So why is it so hard to tell it as it is now?

Wedge was waiting for her outside when she exited the restroom.

"Something for you," he said, handing her an envelope. "Took a while to reach you, apparently. Got sent to your old place. Head office finally tracked me down and delivered it to me."

"Well, lookee here. MTV Music Awards?" she said. "DJ Viper got nominated. No surprise there. So why'd they invite me?"

"Don't be daft. You're the director. 'Course they'd invite you."

"And here I am without a nice party dress," she said dryly. "You ready to roll out?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm meeting up with the crew now. Once the equipment's loaded up, we'll make a move."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Drive safe, ya hear me?"

"Always, Lady A."

Okay, she's going to take it as a divine sign. If by some billion-to-one chance that Julian actually called her right now, she'll tell Ignis the truth right afterwards. Right afterwards. And that's a promise.

Well...make it a quadrillion-to-one chance.

Her phone suddenly rang.

She almost dropped it in her haste to get it out of her pocket.

It was a video call. From an unknown number. Probably another lothario eager to share penis videos with a call girl who had a similar number with hers. Happened once or twice before. She was seriously considering changing her telco service.

"Hello?" she said.

Julian's face popped onto the screen, almost making her drop her phone again.

"Mom!" He beamed. He looked at someone offscreen and said: "She answered!"

"Oh, my God. Julian! How are- How did you-?" Aranea was so surprised that she could barely form a coherent sentence. She looked around for somewhere more private to talk. Staff traffic up and down the hallway was making it hard for her to hear his voice.

There was a janitor's closet nearby. She entered it, squeezing herself into the dank and poky space and shut the door firmly behind her.

"Mom, you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just hang on a sec- shit!" She almost tripped over a broom.

"You said a bad word."

"I know. I'm sorry." She finally settled down on an upturned bucket with a sigh. "Okay. I've got a million and one questions for you, kiddo. Can you talk long? Whose number is this anyway?"

"I can't. Dad doesn't even know I'm talking to you right now. I borrowed Edna's phone."

"Who?"

"Edna. My nanny. Dad's too busy with stuff, so he got her to take care of me. Hey, say hello to my mom."

The screen shifted to reveal the face of an elderly woman, who smiled and waved awkwardly at her.

"Hi, hello," said Aranea. "Thanks for letting him do this."

The camera moved back to Julian's face. "You okay, mom? You look like you haven't been sleeping much."

Aranea scoffed. "Me? What about you? Fever all gone now?"

"Yeah, ages ago. Edna knows how to give my medicine. I really miss you, mom."

"I know, kid. I miss you too. Really wish I could be there with you."

"Dad says that he's sending me off to Gralea Military Academy. Said that it'll make a man out of me. What is that place? Is it true that you went there when you were younger?"

Aranea's smile immediately vanished. Gralea Military Academy was nothing more than a purgatory in her personal history...a black stain she'd been trying to scrub clean for years. She'd fled the Empire precisely because she wanted to get away from its dogmatic tendencies. And now, it's come back to bite her in the ass. Someone like Julian would never survive past the first three months in that damned place.

"D'you think I'd be able to make new friends there?"

"I think you'll make better friends in Insomnia. That's where I am right now."

"Is it nice there? When can I see you?"

"Not anytime soon. I know it's hard to hear-" she added upon seeing his disappointed face. "But it's really complicated-"

"How complicated? Is it adult stuff again? I hate being an adult. I don't ever want to grow up!"

"Heh, you and me both, kid. You and me both. Listen: I will see you again. I'm gonna try and get you out of that shithole of a place."

"You just said a bad word, mom."

"I know."

"I gotta go now. You won't tell dad, right? About this? Edna's gonna get in a lot of trouble if you do."

"No, you crazy? Of course I won't tell. Hey, call me anytime...y'hear me? Just make sure it's safe before you do that."

"Sure thing."

"I'm also giving you another number. He's a...a friend of mine. If you can't reach me for whatever reason, call him. If you're ever in any trouble, call him too. He'll know what to do."

"Okay. Love you, mom."

"Love you too, kiddo."

The screen went black. Aranea quickly scrolled through her list of contacts and forwarded a number to Edna's phone. She sat hunched over for a moment, staring at Julian's picture. The door suddenly swung open, causing her to jump.

Ignis was glaring at her suspiciously. "What on earth are you doing in there?"

"Julian called."

"What? Really?"

"Julian called, and he said- ow!" She'd stood up too fast, and banged her head against a low hanging shelf. Bottles of disinfectant and cleaning agents rattled ominously.

"Oh, dear. Mind your step there," he said, offering a hand. She took it, and carefully maneuvered herself out of the closet. "Are you alright?"

"Pfft, forget about me. He's fine! He can't wait to see me and...oh, this is really great!" She was so flooded by happiness and giddy relief that without warning, she hugged him.

His eyes widened in surprise. He felt the weight of her arms around his neck, and the press of her body against his...and yet he couldn't seem to bring himself to touch her. Suddenly remembering herself, Aranea released him...rather too quickly as if she was electrocuted.

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish smile. "I just had to tell someone about it."

"No problem," he managed. "I'm glad I got that honour."

Her smile faded and for a moment she seemed pensive. "There's something that you need to know."

"What is it?"

"He's…" she trailed off. Suddenly all form of glibness had chosen to abandon ship. Tell him. Shit, dammit...just tell him!

"Aranea, what is it?"

Her biscuit of resolve crumbled at the last second. "He's really excited to meet you."

"Meet me? He doesn't even know me," he said skeptically.

"I told him about you. About Noctis, Prompto, Gladio...well, everyone. Says he wants to see all of my friends here."

"Oh. Well, that's very nice to hear. I hope we get to meet him soon as well."

"Would you really?"

"Would I really what?"

"See him, I mean."

"Of course I would. What a silly thing to say," he chuckled.

"That's...really awesome," she said. There was almost an undertone of relief in her voice. "Well, still got a few things to take care of. See ya around, Mr. Executive Producer."

Much to his bewilderment, she shook his hand. She turned around to march off to the other direction before suddenly remembering something and did a complete U-turn.

"Elevator's thataways. Heheh," she said.

"Aranea…"

She stopped. "Hm?"

And he was stumped. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know why he called out to her in the first place. He searched her face for some form of cue, something he could latch onto in order to break out of this embarrassing cloud of awkwardness he was in.

"Er...nothing. I-I've forgotten what it was I wanted to say."

He watched as she trotted away. First a hug, and then a handshake. She really was out of sorts that day. But then again, so was he. It's almost as if they'd morphed into shojo manga teenagers who'd blush like bumbling idiots everytime they wanted to say something to each other.

Next episode: Aranea finally apologizes to Iggy, and what makes a really good apology gift? Why, a stolen blender, of course.