AN/: Yes, I know. It's been way too long.

Anyway, I finally got in this new chapter in. My beta-reader hasn't responded, and I'm not exactly patient at the moment... so, I corrected it as best as I could on my own. Maybe, if you guys are willing, you can point out anything I might've goofed; I'll make the necessary changes. Or perhaps, my beta-reader will get up to snuff and answer me already...


Chapter Six

Vibrations of a black lily


Cissnei stood poised as she looked out the window in amazement.

Storm clouds were forming rapidly, coming towards the city. The bright, cheery day that had been promised by sunrise quickly fled away and was replaced by a suffocating gray. Even the air was becoming unpleasant; it tasted stale. The menservants quickened their pace at the sudden change in weather.

She opened a colorful, flowery fan and hid her red-painted lips behind it. Her face was hardened in a concerned scowl. Something was very wrong.

Cissnei heard a distinctive sound of footsteps coming toward her and a feeling of disgust came over her. The footsteps were strange, and the feet were shuffling over the tile of the floor. And only one dreadful man was known for such a distasteful habit.

"Ah, Lady Ravenel," Hojo greeted in a sultry manner. "So nice to come across you at a time like this."

Cissnei reluctantly looked her master in the eye and held her mouth shut. Hojo smirked in a sly, domineering fashion and came closer until there was barely a few inches between them. She swallowed air. He leaned slightly, and in her ear, he whispered:

"What do you see outside the window?"

The color left her face, and she answered, "The weather has changed drastically."

Hojo chuckled in agreement. "Do you know why that is strange, my dear?"

Cissnei managed to nod while barely moving her stiffened neck. Hojo put his hand on her shoulder.

"Then tell me," he commanded.

She let the fan fall from her shaky hand. It hung by a chain that was fastened to her dress.

"Father Kisaragi," she began. "Father Kisaragi predicted that the weather would be good and favorable for the birthday of Her Highness. How comes it then that it is about to rain?"

"Do you care to know why?" he asked.

"No, not really."

Hojo let his smile grow wider, to the point that it appeared crazed. Cissnei flinched and wanted to move away.

"I like that in you," he snickered. "You never concern yourself with such trivial things."

He pushed even closer to her and planted a kiss on her cheekbone. Cissnei reacted in a flash; she shoved him away from her and moved her hand to swat him in the face. Hojo shot out his hand and snatched her wrist, holding it in an iron grip. Cissnei recoiled and tried to escape his hold.

"That is not how you behave towards your benefactor," he sneered. "Just remember. If it were not for me, you would have died in the gutters of Hafen."

"That does not give you the right to do as you please with me!" she snapped. "Release me!"

"Say please."

Cissnei gritted her teeth and was tempted to spit. But that would have only made things worse.

"Come, my dear," he said, in a softer tone. "There is no need to be like this. Have you not considered the favorable position I have offered you?"

"Take your 'favorable position' and give it to your wife," she hissed.

Hojo frowned darkly, and his smile vanished. His grip tightened.

"That woman," he muttered in contempt. "Ah, that woman! She is actually quite selfish… have you ever realized that? That woman," he continued in contempt, "All she cares for are money and prestige… and in all these years, she has never understood what it means to have such things. And to make matters worse, she is fanatically convinced that the world revolves around her… her and her self-created tragedy…"

"What does that have to do with me?" Cissnei barked. "I…"

Hojo inched even closer, the disgusting glee appearing back on his face. Cissnei shuddered and bit her lip.

"Quite right," he said. "It has nothing to do with you. Is that not splendid?"

"L-let me go!" she cried. "I want nothing to do with this!"

His grasping hands clenched torturously around her wrists, and Cissnei gasped in pain. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and her eyes widened in fright.

"Think carefully before you make such an answer," Hojo warned. "Have you never stopped to think if you truly have a choice in the matter?"

Cissnei choked in realization and quivered in fear. He was right. Everything that she had gained, all of what she had managed to achieve… was thanks to his so-called charity and her constant obedience. And if she dared refuse, he would… he might…

Hojo pressed his pointy nose against her dainty one. "So, what will it be?"

Cissnei shut her eyes tight and shifted her head to the side, so at least she would not have to look upon his face. But as the dreaded nose brushed against her cheek, she could not suppress the shivering.

"N-n-no. No! Do not force this on me!" she stammered in a helpless plea. "I cannot. How could I live with myself if I committed such a wicked…"

Cissnei heard the approaching sound of running footsteps and stopped. To her relief, Hojo released her and put some distance between them. She turned around to face whomever was there, and was surprised to see a very young girl, no more than ten at most, coming in their direction.

This girl, wherever she came from, trotted diligently towards them as if she had not been noticed. Though one could clearly hear her shoes hitting the tile floor, her body seemed to float and bounce like a bubble; perhaps, it was the flutter of in her pale, jade dress. She came closer, closer, even closer… and the two adults before her remained at a loss.

"H-here, dear girl," Cissnei said, regaining her voice. "What are you doing running about by yourself? Where are your parents? Are you lost?"

The girl ignored her prying questions and continued at the same pace, even as she was about to pass between them. Without missing a step or slowing down, she opened her pretty little mouth and sang:

"She is much too young for you… old man!"

Then, she had completely overtaken them and her back faced their bewildered eyes. The end of the hall and a solid wall with no turns lay ahead of her.

Hojo stood in shock for a few seconds, until the statement fully registered in his brain. He rose out of his confused stupor with a mixture of annoyance and indignation and marched forward in an attempt to catch up with her.

"Why you insolent little…!" he spat. "You get back here, young lady, so I can teach you how to respect your elders!"

But the girl kept on her merry way, not at all minding his angered voice or the wall she was seemingly about to crash into. Cissnei saw her opportunity and prepared to make a run for it. And suddenly, when the girl made contact with the wall, she stepped right into it as if it were not solid brick! She disappeared into the wall, like a heavy object being lost in murky water, and every trace of her small body vanished along with her.

Once again, the advisor and his frazzled subordinate were left dumb and speechless.

Cissnei recovered faster, and before Hojo could remember her, she twirled around and took off as fast as she could manage to run. Despite the situation, no matter how fantastic or lucky it was, she was at least grateful to the bizarre event and the perfect sense of timing.

Nevertheless, she knew very well, certainly, without a shadow of doubt what had taken place before her. Cissnei had just seen someone from Over There.

00000

Yuffie opened a side door in a hall and ushered the Princess through the threshold. The door gave way to a flight of concrete steps, which led to a wide tunnel of store floor and wall. The air smelled like the outside, and as Tifa walked down, she felt a small breeze pushing at her. Yuffie followed and quietly shut the door. She stopped to light a lantern she was carrying.

"Are you sure that Lord Baldemar is on the northwest of the grounds?" Tifa asked anxiously.

"I cannot be certain," Yuffie replied with a shrug. "I am only relying on word of mouth… but the person I spoke to insisted that he went to the solarium. There are guards posted around it too."

Yuffie reached the bottom of the steps and wrapped her arm securely with her mistress'. At the end of the tunnel, there was a glimmer of light up ahead. They trudged onward with the wind goading at their backs.

"I never knew these tunnels existed," Tifa said in astonishment. "How many did you say they were? Four of them?"

"Aye, Princess," Yuffie answered. "You do know that the entirety of Ulbrecht Palace is built based upon the very position of Gelinde on the globe?"

"Of course… that is common knowledge even to the lowliest baron. So, the direction we are heading points to the northwest of Gelinde. But why did I never find out about these tunnels?"

Yuffie, for a moment, would not answer. Tifa became silent and focused on the light up ahead.

Where is my pet feline? she wondered. Where did he run off to?

"Need not to know," Yuffie muttered.

"What is that?" Tifa asked.

"The tunnels are used only for the likes of servants and their 'unsightly' duties," Yuffie explained. "It is only in case of necessity that a royal would use such a place. His kingship probably… most likely knows of these tunnels… perhaps, the Prince too. But the young princess? It pains me to say this, but they would not bother telling you about it."

Tifa lowered her head gravely and changed the subject:

"And this is the northern tunnel?"

"Yes. Exactly parallel to the southern tunnel. Both are built within 'pockets' of the walls of Ulbrecht, and the eastern and western tunnels are underground. The northern grounds are empty, so no one should take notice of us until we reach the solarium."

Tifa covered her mouth and chuckled. Yuffie frowned curiously.

"What amuses you so much?" she inquired.

"Nothing much," Tifa replied. "I was simply remembering… they say that Ulbrecht Palace is meant to be the guiding compass that all of Gelinde should follow. Up till now, I never stopped to think how literal the phrase truly was!"

Yuffie jolted and returned an agreeing smile. They pulled each other closer and snickered like normal schools on truancy. And then, a small pair of hands reached out and hugged Tifa by the waist.

Tifa cried out in shock and flayed about. Yuffie gasped sharply and shined her light upon whatever had caused the disturbance. The arms kept a gentle hold as if nothing was wrong. The tunnel was filled with the laughter of a little girl.

Below them, just below the chest, was the little girl in the fluttering, jade dress… who was happy and highly pleased with her mischief. The Princess and her companion gave each other a glance that said:

"What in the name of heaven is this?"

"Again!" the girl demanded. "Scream like that again!"

Yuffie cleared her throat and fixed a serious look on her face. She took hold of the girl and tried to pry her off of Tifa.

"Look here, child," Yuffie scolded. "You cannot go running about and clinging to strange people! Do you have any idea who this is?"

The girl loosened her grip and quietly let go. Her eyes blinked rapidly.

"Are you Princess Tifa Nicolette Marjorie Lockheart-Shinra?" she asked in monotone.

"Eh?" Tifa managed to say, and thought, To think that even a small girl can memorize my entire name.

"Are you?"

"Well… yes, I am."

The girl perked up again and grinned. She sprang forward and latched onto Tifa again, much to the annoyance of Yuffie.

"Thank goodness!" she chirped. "Marlene almost thought she had the wrong the person."

Tifa cocked her head. "Marlene?"

In the background, Yuffie bit her lip and restrained herself from growling. She reached out to put distance between them again, but Tifa put out a hand, signaling her stop.

The girl leaned back and pointed to herself. "Marlene is Marlene."

Tifa paused for a moment and replied, "Should you not say 'I am Marlene'?"

Marlene tilted her head and asked, "Why?"

"Because it is only proper," she told her. "And people might think that you lack maturity."

Marlene let go and stepped back. She gave Tifa an incredulous look, folded her skinny arms, and then glared to the side.

"His majesty once told Marlene," she rejoined, "That those who claim that others lack maturity often lack maturity themselves."

Tifa opened her mouth in speechlessness. Yuffie, who felt that her mistress had just been blatantly insulted, prepared to chide the girl once more, but Tifa began to laugh. She leaned over to touch the little she-goblin on the head; her hand moved slowly.

All the while she wondered:

His majesty? Does she mean Father?

Marlene turned to meet her gaze, and Tifa stopped dead. Around her dainty neck, Marlene was wearing a cross pendant. A distinctive cross pendant. Tifa grabbed the cross and pulled it to the light.

"Oh, do you like it?" Marlene asked.

The cross, as Tifa suspected, was made of platinum gold. And it looked exactly like the pendant she saw in her dreams. The pendant that that woman had clutched in her hands. The chain fell and dangled from her hand. Tifa looked up and saw that Marlene had unfastened it.

"It is a gift from his majesty. He told Marlene to give it to you right away."

Tifa grasped the chain and let the pendant hang from it. She examined it more closely, thinking that she might be mistaken. It was a logical assumption.

"This trinket is a gift from his majesty?" Yuffie questioned in disbelief. "Tis lovely, but it does not match his taste."

Tifa narrowed her eyes at her begleiter and droned, "Is that a bad thing?" She smiled at Marlene and said, "I do like it. Tell my father that I am thankful."

Marlene stared blankly at her in reply. A few seconds passed, and then, after a spark of realization brightened her face, she burst out laughing. Tifa was taken aback.

"No!" she corrected. "Not your 'his majesty'. Marlene was speaking of her 'his majesty'."

"And who might that be?" Tifa asked, thoroughly confused. Is this child from Kiel?

Marlene put a pair of coy fingers to her lips and batted her eyes. "You do not know? Marlene thought you hung his portrait on the walls of your suite."

The princess felt her heart skip a beat, and for a moment, she forgot to breath. It cannot be! she thought. Can it possibly… could this girl really be referring to…

When she saw that her words had hit home, Marlene abruptly took to her heels and ran to the end of the tunnel. Tifa snapped out of her daze and watched her retreating form. She hesitated, taking a few steps forward, and then, she picked up the skirt of her dress and made chase.

Yuffie followed after without saying a word, holding the lantern in front of her. Tifa only relied on the light at the end of the darkness.

"Wait a minute!" Tifa cried. "Come back here! What do you mean? Have you seen him too?"

As she came closer to Marlene and the end of the tunnel, the path became increasingly clearer. The light was like a pure blanket of white, and Tifa could hardly see what was up ahead. A few yards later, the end had swallowed them both.

Yuffie came to the end seconds later and reached the outside. She slowed down, coming to a leisurely stop, and her eyes moved keenly around her persons.

"Princess!" Yuffie called out. "Princess! Where are you?"

The girl was gone. And so was Tifa.

00000

Meanwhile, a sea of elegant coaches and carriages flooded through the palace gates and onto the paved roads of the grounds. At the entrance of Ulbrecht, scores of the nobility (many proud, some snooty, and the others gaudily dressed) were helped out of their carriages by footmen and politely ushered into the foyer. Their luggage would be handled elsewhere.

Among the coaches that were just entering the palace, a large, dark brown one came to a steady pace; the driver pulled at the reigns, commanding his two horses to slow down. The occupants of the coach, two fine women, noticed the sudden shift and prepared for their arrival.

The first woman, a beautiful flower of a girl, was dressed almost completely in rose pink; her dress was tastefully adorned with magenta bows. She wore a white bolero jacket, all buttoned up, and a pair of neutral pink gloves. She wore no make-up and needed none.

The other woman was peculiarly dressed in dark, masculine attire: a vest, bowtie, jacket, pants, and loafers. Her blonde hair was in a bob cut. A white purse rested on her small lap, and a hat sat next to her. A pistol and holster were strapped to her hip. Her eyes were forever trained on her mistress.

The coach was unpleasantly quiet. In contrast with her cheery clothing and radiant loveliness, the beautiful girl was roughly wiping leftover tears from her powder white cheeks and her pretty, green eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. Her companion saw that the cloth had become damp and retrieved a spare from the purse.

"Put it back, Elena," the girl said. "I do not need it."

Nevertheless, another identical handkerchief was held out to her in insistence. She reached reluctantly for it, and her companion clasped her hand.

"Your highness, please," Elena begged. "Get a grip! It cannot be helped."

"I cannot endure it!" she shouted angrily. "Why is he doing such a thing?"

"It cannot be helped. We must follow his judgment."

"How can I? Why should I? I am not the only one who is adamantly against this! Even brother…"

The girl paused and hung her head low; her body trembled in rage. She pulled her hand away, taking the fresh handkerchief and completely cleaning her face.

"Even brother disapproves," she continued. "And why should he not? This is not only because my heart breaks… or because it stains our royal name. This is a direct affront to the women of our kind!"

"True," Elena nodded assent. "But that has not deterred him. Nor has it changed his decision."

The girl clenched her teeth, her temper threatening to reach its limit. She fought back more tears that were trying to escape and squeezed the cloth in her hand.

"How could he do such a dishonorable thing?" she hissed. "How could he choose her over all of the women in Dammerung? How could he choose her over me…?"

She shook her head in violent disbelief, her brown curls swaying and bobbing. Her face hardened, and a fire burned in her eyes.

Elena averted her eyes. You could never handle a man like him, your highness. But surely, a girl like that is even less equipped for the task… surely, right?

00000

Tifa had stopped chasing… or rather, she was so surprised that she briefly forgot how to move her legs altogether. Her surroundings had changed in almost every possible way, from the ground under her feet to the very scent in the air. There was no sign of Yuffie or the mysterious girl who called herself Marlene. The pendant was still in her hand.

Yes, it was safe to assume that she had once again left the kingdom of Gelinde and gone somewhere far away. She braced herself for something to happen.

Tifa quickly realized that she was in a room of some sort. By the layout of it, it appeared to be an elaborate parlor room. It was decorated warmly with cozy but elegant furniture, gold motifs scattered here and there, excellent looking paintings, and a delightfully strange grandfather clock. The marble-tiled floor looked like a chessboard, with grayish white and deep jungle green. The walls were painted in cream.

This is a pleasant room, Tifa thought, despite herself. As least, there is no blood or carnage in the scenery.

A glimmer of color caught her eye, a color that did not match the splendor of the room. She turned and saw a large mass of bright fabric, strewn all over a table and slung over a chair. Tifa casually ventured in the direction of the table to have a closer look and recognized a flurry of ridiculous white bows and ribbons, garish yellow fabric, and ugly sleeves (severed)… along with the stripped, inner fabric of a dress and undone thread.

In other words, the former horror of her ball gown… wonderfully dissected. Tifa smiled in glee.

In the distance, she heard the chime of a bell.

"Well, this is a pleasure," a man declared. "I did not expect you to be here so soon."

Tifa froze upon hearing his voice. Footsteps came towards her. By the strange, lack of inflection in his voice, the man that was slowly walking up behind her…

She made a move to turn and face him, but a pair of slender arms wrapped around her stomach and tugged her backwards. She let out a startled squeal, and her arms flailed about. The bell shook.

"No matter," he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice. "At least I am very happy to see you. We live in a reality full of so many surprises…"

Another familiar thing caught her attention: that odd fragrance. That sweet, potent fragrance that she had smelled many times before…

"What are you talking about?" Tifa asked nervously. "I…"

Tifa became aware of the fact that he was no longer holding on to her. Her body was able to move properly again. She turned, searching for him, and saw him close by, with his back to her. From what she could gather from his initial appearance, he seemed harmless.

But last night was still fresh in her mind. And…

How did he get there so fast?

The man stood over a vase of odd, dark flowers; from a distant, their petals looked completely black. He bent down to smell them, and Tifa heard the bell ring again.

That bell, she thought. That bell is definitely…

"There are exactly thirteen lilies inside this vase," he told her. "Do you know why?"

Tifa lost her train of thought. "What?"

"Usually," he said, "Your people consider that number to be a harbinger of misfortune. They do not realize… that after the Christ chose his twelve disciples, there were thirteen people in the group. If you look at it that way, it is not a bad number to go by."

He hummed, taking in more of the aroma, and then strained his neck to stare at her over his shoulder. Tifa winced and became self-conscious. His eyes became like slits.

"Something is bothering me," he admitted.

"I beg your pardon?" she squeaked.

The man came back towards her, hands folded behind him. His face was blank once again, but his eyes had a stern look to them. Tifa swallowed.

"What?" she asked. "What? What?"

He closed in on her without answering… came into the circle of her personal space. Tifa felt the hairs on her neck standing up; this was too close for her comfort. He leaned over until their faces were inches apart. The bell rang.

"What are you…?"

The man gently cupped her chin and raised her head. His eyes softened, and he nodded in satisfaction. His eyes were just like…

"There," he said stoically. "I finally got a proper view of your lovely face."

Tifa flushed bright, rose red. "Stop it!"

She closed her eyes and pushed him away, only to have him take a firm grasp of her wrist by the time she opened them. The pendant swung from her hand.

"Are you planning on holding on to that all day?" he inquired. "Or shall I help you put it on?"

Her face turned even more crimson, and her nostrils flared. She turned up her nose and huffed, "I can do it myself." She slipped it over her head and did just that. "And who says I wanted it? I am sure that the piano is more than enough!"

He furled and eyebrow at her and said, "Do I detect a hint of anger in you?"

"Why not?" she snapped. "You stole my first kiss!"

The man rolled his eyes and traipsed on over to the table to marvel at the dismembered dress. She watched intently. He lifted a piece of yellow cloth from the table.

"Oh, lighten up, dear girl," he retorted. "The first kiss is often the worst kiss anyway."

The bell sang out, matching the beating of her heart. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing.

If that bell is what I think it is, she mused, then what is it doing here? What does it mean?

Tifa cleared her throat and prodded, "Where is that sound coming from?"

The man stopped. He put his hand into his coat, letting the cloth hang from his other arm. He pulled something out, examined it for a moment, and then held it up for her to see. The blue ribbon shinned lustrously.

"Do you mean this?"

It was most definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, the bell that belonged to her cat. Tifa staggered back and covered her mouth with the ring of her fist. He turned his head slightly, and she saw an amused grin on his lips.

"Wha… why?" Tifa mumbled in a shaky voice. "Why do you… why do you have that?"

"Why do I have it, I wonder?" he replied mockingly.

That bell! she pondered. That scent! You…

The man stuck the bell back into the pocket of his coat and resumed looking at the yellow fabric. Tifa had herself another deep breath, exhaled, and mustered the nerve to speak again. She took a few, daring steps closer to him.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

He became very still. Tifa could sense that he had ceased all movement. She wondered if the question had had some sort of affect on him. With a sliver of more bravery and some curiosity, she came a bit closer… her hands folded to her chest.

"Who…" she began.

"That question annoys me," he replied in a snarky tone.

Tifa gulped and felt heat growing along her cheeks and on her ears. She watched him put the fabric back on the table and pick up a long ribbon. As she stretched it in his hands, something rose in her. Something that was different from anger, fear, or even a remote sense of indignation.

"Then why are you doing this?" Tifa exclaimed. "Why do you keep bringing me to this place?"

"I brought you here?" the man said. "Has it not been you who has been coming here by your own power?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she snarled.

"I said exactly what I meant," he answered nonchalantly.

She shook her head curtly. "I have no such power!"

"Oh really?"

The tension in the ribbon went slack, and he started to tremble. He slammed his palms against the table, knocking down the bow that was near the edge. Tifa jumped back. He stood there, bent over the table, with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. His breathing became strange.

"You," he muttered, and lowering his head, "I could just… I could just…"

And then, he slowly grew still again. He sighed gently and became calm. Tifa felt herself relax a little, but she was puzzled and concerned.

"Have I said something to offend you?" Tifa asked politely.

He lifted up the ribbon again and let it hang in a curve. "I know you do not like yellow, but perhaps, we could have this made into a nice, summer dress. We could have a diaphanous blue sewn over it. Or we could have it used to make pillows or quilt material… or maybe even decoration. Which would you prefer? Do you have any suggestions?"

He craned his head and met her eyes. "So? Which would you…"

"Aster… Raziel… Maverick…Fundelstein," she uttered.

His face turned cold.

"I have good memory," she said. "That is the name of that boy in the portrait. You look exactly like him? Is he you?"

No answer. Tifa puffed air through her nose.

"Even so," she went on, "That name means nothing to me. It tells me nothing about you? Why are you here? Why did you save me? Who… who are you?"

He jerked his head away, saying nothing at first. His hands dropped to his sides, the ribbon barely staying above the ground.

"Who am I?" he said. "Well…"

The ribbon dropped to the floor, and he disappeared right before her eyes. Tifa drew her breath in bewilderment. She rushed to where he had been standing, and from there, she frantically scanned the parlor. Was he really gone?

Tifa then found herself feeling slightly downcast. "Where did you…?"

"Who am I?" came a whisper.

Tifa practically hopped an entire half circle. No one was behind her. That was no surprise.

"Who am I?" he whispered again. "Who am I?"

This situation was eerily familiar. The room almost seemed to grow larger and more intimidating around her. Her heartbeat became heavy and overbearing; she almost feared that it would burst.

"Who am I?" he repeated, slowly but more menacingly. "I could just…"

"S-stop it," Tifa murmured.

"Who am I? You… are…"

Tifa put her hands over her ears and yelled. "Stop it!"

The world went pitch-black. His hands reached out and clamped onto her shoulders. She was unable to even let out a yelp.

"Your very existence," he muttered, "Is an eyesore."

Tifa swerved around, breaking his hold. A disturbing, wide smile was on his face. Before she could try to escape, he grabbed her and used his body weight to knock her off balance. They both started to fall to the ground.

"I love you more than anyone else," he said playfully. "I hate you more than anyone else. I could just kill you…"

Her back collided with the ground, and she hissed (mostly out of shock rather than actual pain). She grabbed his wrists and tried to pry his hands away from her.

"Remember now," he said to her, the deranged smile growing bigger, "You and I are a part of each other. So, I always have and always will be watching you!"

"Please, let me go!" Tifa pleaded.

She thrust his hands off, but they reattached onto her arms. He hovered right over her; she was trapped. His smile subsided a little, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Is that fear I sense coming off of you?" he asked in a deep tone. A hand nestled against her cheek… "Not that I mind at all" … and the other delicately pressed and ran its fingers down her arm. "It is high time that you learned the miracle of being human."

Tifa realized that his hold on her was very loose. But she was not moving.

Why can I not budge? she panicked. Has he done something to me?

"Fear… bravery… contentment… longing… joy... despair. Those are the spheres that human souls live by. Which ones have you chosen?"

He touched her lips with his thumb, and she shut her eyes tight. His hands were calloused. The flowery scent was overwhelming.

That smell, she though. I know you. You are…

"Come now," the man said. "Let us get another look at that pretty face."

00000

Tifa felt a shifting sensation in the air, and her eyes opened almost by themselves. She found herself standing inside of the solarium, surrounded by tall glass and green plants, right where she had been heading. She panted and fell to her knees.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" she mumbled, her thoughts overwrought. "Hate me? Hate me?"

There she was, stuck with the feeling that she had been picked up, toyed with, and then unceremoniously dropped. It instilled a reasonable amount of terror in her, but to her astonishment, she felt a more potent sense of frustration. Pure, unadulterated frustration.

Why me? she lamented. Why is this happening to me? What in the name of heaven is going on? Could you at least have told me that?

"Your highness? Are you alright?"

Tifa looked and saw Lord Baldemar, standing nearby at the corner of the solarium. He walked briskly towards her and offered a hand to help her up, which she took happily.

"Tis nothing to worry about," she lied. "I am fine."

"Forgive me imprudence," he said, amazed at himself. "I did not hear you enter."

"There is no need to apologize," Tifa insisted, and adding an embellishment, "I hardly make any noise anyway…"

She put on a tiny, relieved smile. Reno gave her his usual, cheeky grin. But then, he looked harder at her, and his expression twisted from cheery to mortified.

"Is something wrong?" she inquired innocently.

"That necklace," he replied. "Where did you get that necklace?"

Tifa peered downward and remembered the cross pendant that was now around her neck.

"Aster gave it to me."


And some corrections have been made! Thank you, Iris Irine!