A/N: Geez, this thing is becoming huge. I never planned for so many chapters. But a plot's got to have…plot, right? I'm hoping I don't get carried away and make this 50 chapters or something. I know some of you won't mind, but I want to finish it, darn it. Hopefully it'll end somewhere in the 40s with all the loose ends tied up. Wish me luck!
Disclaimer: I'd love to own Star Ocean 3…but if I did, Fayt and Albel would be too busy tangled in each other's arms to save the world and that…while awesome…wouldn't be good.
Fayt wasn't sure what to think. He had heard it all before. They had prepared to go after Shelby, only to have their plans cancelled and he wondered if they whole thing would be called off in another hour or so. But this time, it looked like it was really going to be war.
Albel had dragged Fayt along to his meeting with his advisors. Really, Fayt had no business at a war conference, but Albel had insisted. Dion, Vox, and Woltar were thee. They were Albel's three most trusted strategic advisors. Vox and Woltar were seasoned general and Dion was highly skilled in diplomacy. Fayt wondered if there was anything Dion didn't know. He seemed to be an expert in a little bit of everything.
"So," Albel growled, eyeing the men gathered around the small table. "Do we invade Greeton or do we wait for Shelby to come to us?" He looked sternly at Vox. After all, Shelby had been his lieutenant and Albel expected that Vox knew him best. Perhaps Vox could predict Shelby's movements.
Vox considered, a hand thoughtfully stroking his beard. "Greeton surpasses us militarily. If we invade, our armies will be repulsed. However, if he attacks us with the backing of Greeton, our kingdom will be lost."
"The logical thing would be to turn Greeton against him," Dion put in. "If they can be made aware of his treachery, perhaps they will surrender him to us, or at the very least, forcibly remove him from their lands so we can go after him freely."
"I concur," Woltar said calmly. The seasoned older general nodded sagely. "We can deal with his barbarian hordes, but not with Greeton."
"Excellent," Albel murmured. "Woltar, send a man to Greeton to ask their aid. They have no quarrel with us and they are said to be a reasonable people so I'm sure they will listen to our petition." Albel's eyes glowed with fiendish glee. "And then we can deal with Shelby and those barbarians. I'm itching to fight."
"I'll lend one of my best men to fight beside you," Vox said smoothly.
Albel waved him off. "No, I don't need any of your men. Fayt will accompany me."
"You can't mean that!" Dion protested. His dark eyes widened behind the frames of his glasses. "He's going to get killed. He has no combat training and-"
"He can handle himself just fine," Albel said arrogantly. He looked at Fayt proudly. Yes, he had trained his fool well.
"But my lord, wouldn't you rather have a sold-"
"Silence," Albel snapped. "I've made my decision. The fool owes me a debt and you are not going to let him get out of it."
Dion subsided and shot Fayt a pitying look. Poor Fayt. Well, he had tried.
Fayt looked at Albel questioningly. He owed him? Surely Albel wasn't still talking about the promise he had made. He had already fulfilled that part. Fayt chewed his bottom lip and looked down, feeling a blush break out. He really hoped Albel didn't take it to be a permanent situation. He had so not promised Albel sex every time they safely made it through a battle.
Fayt looked up, feeling eyes on him. Vox was staring at him from across the table, a curiously intrigued look in his eyes. Fayt didn't like it. Vox was sizing him up, wondering why Albel chose him. Fayt could sense his disapproval. Fayt wasn't a soldier like one of Vox's men. Vox was obviously insulted that Albel valued a servant over a soldier. Fayt looked away nervously.
"So, it's settled then." Albel's eyes flicked to Dion, daring him to protest. But Dion was silent, shoulder slumped in resignation. "Then we start preparations," Albel said briskly. "There will be a battle either way. Let us hope for the best but prepare for the worst."
Woltar excused himself to compose the letter to Greeton. With a last sad lingering look at Fayt, Dion also stood and walked sadly back to his workroom. Vox alone remained, his gaze burning into Fayt with all the force of his jealousy.
"Well?" Albel demanded, looking crossly at Vox. "Don't you have training to do?"
"Of course, your majesty." With a last sidelong look at Fayt, Vox rose and stepped out of the room.
Fayt suppressed a shiver. Why had Albel insisted on taking him along? Albel's rash action had angered one of his best generals. Vox was now likely to murder Fayt in his sleep for daring to accompany Albel. Fayt paused thoughtfully and then relaxed, the tension draining out of him. Impossible with Albel sleeping beside him. Albel would never let him get killed. He heaved a sigh of relief.
Albel rose from his seat and looked questioningly at Fayt. "What's the matter, fool?"
Fayt hesitated only briefly. "I think Vox is upset that you turned him down."
"He'll get over it," was Albel's instant, irritated reply.
A slight frown creased Albel's face and he dipped into a more thoughtful mood. E glanced up and looked about carefully, seeing no one. His voice dropped lower "I would not admit such a thing to him, but maybe Shelby is not the only traitor in his regiment. I would not have a man of his fighting beside me. I can only hope that Shelby has not spread poison through the ranks." Albel snorted. "Bah, probably if they were traitors they would have defected with Shelby already. I may be overly cautious, but that is better than being dead."
Fayt felt a surge of relief. Of course. How could he have ever doubted the king? Albel only seemed rash and impulsive, but he had been preparing careful schemes. Fayt should have known by now that Albel's plots were far too complex for a mere servant like him. Once again he was in awe of how well Albel had carefully planned out everything.
"And since I know you would never betray me, I want you fighting by my side," Albel said softly.
Joy swelled within Fayt's chest. He would never dream of betraying Albel and Albel knew that full well. It felt good to be one of the few people Albel truly trusted.
Fayt paused suddenly, a slight flicker of apprehension creeping back into him. "Are you sure Vox won't try to get me out of the way somehow so one of his men can join you? His pride was probably hurt and maybe he'll find a way to get-"
"Vox is not going to kill you, fool," Albel growled. "If you end up dead, I'll know he is to blame and I'll have to kill him. But Vox is a smart man and if anything, he'll just try to delay and detain you from battle." He gripped Fayt's shoulder tightly with his good hand and pulled Fayt against his body. "I won't let any harm come to you." He placed a feathery kiss on Fayt's forehead. "You are mine to protect."
Fayt squeaked in surprise and his face became bright red. He tried to squirm out of Albel's embrace. "My lord, not here," he hissed. His eyes darted around nervously. "People will see."
Albel gently stroked Fayt's soft blue hair. "You worry too much," he said quietly. He kissed the top of Fayt's head and then pulled away. Without another word, he calmly walked out the door.
Fayt watched him go, pressing a hand to his heated cheeks. Albel was certainly a strange man.
