In comparison to standard East City high society events, Riza's engagement party leaned on the smaller side. Invitations were extended only to esteemed guests of both families and important military connections. While Riza was grateful for a smaller crowd, that was as far as her gratitude could go.
The carriage ride to Bradley manor had been, if even possible, more awkward than the night before. Riza and Roy found themselves dressed to the nines, sitting beside each other, stuck listening to Berthold's incessant compliments on how wonderful Riza looked and how proud she made him for marrying Bradley. In the twenty-minute carriage ride, Riza was certain he showered her with more compliments than the last year of her life combined.
Once inside, Berthold quickly escorted Riza to Bradley's side, where she stayed for the beginning of the evening to cordially handle the steady stream of party goers hoping to wish the betrothed couple well. As their guests took turns singing their congratulations, Riza thanked them, a fake smile schooling her face and a wine glass nursed in her hands.
"You look beautiful tonight, my dear," Bradley said to Riza once they had a pause between greetings. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Thank you, my lord," Riza answered back, gaze focused on the bridge of Bradley's nose to avoid direct eye contact.
"Just think, every one of these guests are here to celebrate you."
"Aren't they here to celebrate us?" Riza asked as she took another sip of her wine.
"Yes, but they would all be here regardless of who I had chosen as my wife. It was you who managed to fit my standards. Despite how much of a grump your father is, he did raise a lovely daughter," Bradley said. "Ah, look who it is."
Grumman had arrived. While Raven was nowhere to be seen, Roy was walking beside the General. Clearly, he was expected to make the General's rounds with him.
"Bradley, Riza," Grumman said, greeting the pair. "My, you look just lovely tonight granddaughter."
"Thank you, grandfather," Riza said softly.
"I came to give my congratulations, now that everything is official, and to compliment you on such a wonderful party, Bradley. This is certainly nothing like the stuffy events I'm used to. Finally, someone had the courage to only invite the people who mattered." Grumman turned to Roy. "Have any of your men arrived yet, Mustang?"
Roy shook his head. "No sir, but I will let you know when I see them."
"I'd love to meet the Hero of Ishval's loyal team," Bradley cut in. "A man is only as good as the people who follow him."
"And the woman beside him," Grumman included, motioning to Riza. "But of course, you already knew that. Now if you excuse me, I think I just caught a whiff of Raven's stench. Let's go Mustang, I'm afraid we have some entertaining to do."
They walked away, leaving Riza and Bradley alone together once again. It struck Riza how little effort Bradley made to converse with her. He seemed more than content to have her stand beside him, shining like a brand new piece of jewelry.
"If you'd like to make your own rounds, my dear, now would be the time," Bradley said to her, not bothering to look in her direction. "Just be back by the time I give my speech. We are expected to open the dance floor together."
"Yes, my lord," Riza said politely. She glanced around the room, wine glass to her lips, before spying Rebecca and Lucy. They occupied their usual corner, heads huddled close together. Riza had no doubt they were discussing their fellow partygoers.
"Oh Riza! The dress turned out lovely! Rebecca has been telling me all about it," Lucy sang as she approached.
"I feel like a doll," Riza frowned. "But thank you."
"Here," Rebecca switched out Riza's now empty cup of wine for a full one. "If I can't get through this party without help, there is no way you can."
"Yes, please," Riza said, eagerly accepting the wine. "So, how is it looking out there? I can spot the two of you gossiping from a mile away."
"We're watching Winry." Lucy gleefully motioned across the room. "She's been talking to Edward Elric- the inventor's son- since we got here. She looks positively smitten."
Riza turned her gaze to join Lucy and Rebecca's point of focus. Sure enough, Winry was talking to a short, golden-haired boy about her age. One hand rested gently on his shoulder and the other was twirling her hair as she laughed at something the boy said.
"He's a bit short for her, don't you think?" Riza asked as the group continued to spy on the young pair.
"Absolutely, but they're young. He has time to grow," Rebecca laughed.
"Oh to be young and in love," Lucy sighed. "I can't wait to be married."
"I can," Rebecca said. "I'm just here for a good time. Speaking of which, where are all the handsome military men? All I can see are the raggedy old generals."
"Grandfather only invited a select few officers. Bradley wanted to keep this party on the smaller side," Riza supplied. "Why? Looking for a husband in uniform?"
"Military men aren't rich enough for Becca," Lucy teased. "And the ones who are, are far too old."
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "We all can't be husband hungry like you, Lucy. I'm just looking for a little fun. If a nice man in a uniform asks me to dance, who am I to say no?"
Riza simply rolled her eyes at her best friend's response as she took another sip of her wine.
"Oh, don't roll your eyes at me," Rebecca snapped as she gave Riza a playful smack. "You of all people should agree. You're entering the textbook definition of an arranged marriage. Decrepit old man and all."
"Bradley is not decrepit," Riza defended half-heartedly.
"He's thirty years your senior. If he isn't, he will be soon."
"You always know just what to say to make it worse, don't you?" It was Lucy's turn to roll her eyes. She turned to Riza. "Don't listen to Rebecca. She's just lonely and upset there's no one here to sweep her off her feet."
"Sweep me off my feet? I'm just trying to find someone to get me on my bac-"
"Rebecca!" Lucy and Riza yelled in unison.
Rebecca scoffed and sipped her wine, ignoring their reaction. "Judge me all you want. But why can a man have relations before marriage and not a woman? It's 1893, women should be able to take a lover if they want. Especially if we are expected to enter an arranged marriage."
"Because it's far from proper." Riza raised her eyebrow.
"Or it's just another way to keep women oppressed and powerless to men," Rebecca said. "Besides, it's too late for me. I may as well keep enjoying myself."
"Not all of us are willing to throw away society's rules," Riza said sharply. Internally, Riza supported Rebecca, but the cavalier attitude her best friend used to discuss such a taboo topic always troubled her.
"At least the start and end of my sexual experience won't be with a man old enough to be my grandfather."
Riza's face fell at Rebecca's words, but her best friend did not relent.
"What? It's the truth," Rebecca said. She watched as Riza fought the urge to wilt before softening her tone. "It may not be the most proper thing for a lady of my status, but at least I know what it's like to be cherished and wanted by someone. At least I know what it's like to be loved."
"Who said I won't know what it's like to be loved?"
"If you ever do, I doubt it will be Bradley who shows you."
Before Riza or Lucy could respond, footsteps sounded behind them. The girls turned to find two men in uniform approaching, silently granting Rebecca's wish for the evening. Wide smiles shone on the faces of both men.
"It's great to see you again, Riza," Hughes said. "And who are your lovely friends?"
"Maes, this is Rebecca and Lucy Catalina. Rebecca, Lucy, this is Maes Hughes and Jean Havoc. They served in the Ishvalan war with Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang."
Pleasantries were exchanged amongst the group.
"Where is your wife tonight, Maes?" Riza asked before Rebecca could form any ideas about the bespectacled man.
"She was not invited. Grumman seems to think the military gains more support when young, single soldiers show up to entertain the old, rich widows. Figure that." Despite having to leave his wife at home, Maes seemed jovial about the arrangement, as though amused by the very prospect. "So, if any of you have any elderly, single, and wealthy relatives who could benefit the military, please send them our way."
"Widows love Roy," Riza said gleefully, recalling Roy's reluctant stories of past military galas.
"Don't remind him," Havoc laughed. He looked across the room to where Grumman was currently introducing Roy to a pair of older women who were visibly gushing over the brooding young officer. The group watched as Roy visibly withheld a flinch as one of the women tucked a lock of unruly hair behind his ear. "Should we rescue him, Hughes?"
"He has his rank for a reason," Hughes said with a shrug. "Better him than us."
Rebecca and Lucy both let out a giggle at the men's exchange.
"Leaving your superior to fend for himself?" Lucy teased. "That seems a bit against protocol, don't you think?"
"He's not my superior," Hughes supplied. "Havoc, however…"
"The chief's a big boy. He will manage. I'm more concerned about making sure you lovely ladies have a wonderful time tonight. Anyone escorting either of you two this evening?"
Rebecca jumped at his words before Lucy had a chance to open her mouth. "Not at all. So tell me, what do you do for the military?"
Riza rolled her eyes and finished her glass of wine. Finally, and thankfully, she was starting to feel a buzz.
"I'm holding down the fort until the Lieutenant-Colonel is back from leave so you could say I'm the boss," Havoc answered.
"Yeah, could say," Hughes supplied as Havoc threw him a dirty look, clearly not appreciating the side comments from his makeshift wingman.
"Comments aside, I am Mustang's second-in-command. Hughes here works for intelligence."
"That must keep you busy," Lucy said to Hughes.
"It does," Hughes answered. "The case I'm currently working on takes up all of my time, but it's what I love. It helps that Grumman gives me a good amount of freedom."
"Nosey bastard," Riza mumbled. "He likes being one step ahead of everyone."
"Yes he does," Hughes agreed. "But it keeps me employed so I can't complain."
"So what's this case about?" Rebecca asked, the tease evident in her voice. "Can you tell us anything?"
Both Havoc and Hughes burst into laughter and shook their heads.
"It was worth a shot," Rebecca said with a wink before she turned to Havoc. "So, if he's married, what's your situation?"
Havoc promptly turned a brilliant shade of red as he sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. "I'm in between relationships right now."
Riza was impressed at how smooth the words managed to come out of his mouth despite the blush dominating his features. Besides her, Lucy rolled her eyes.
"How fortunate. Me too."
The clinking of a glass suddenly echoed throughout the great room and the small party turned to find Bradley standing at attention in front of the large fireplace, ready to address the crowd.
"I believe that is my cue," Riza said as Bradley glanced her way, silently beckoning her to join him. She reluctantly moved to leave. "Behave while I'm gone,"- she looked at Rebecca- "all of you."
"We'll try," Lucy answered for her sister.
"Good luck out there," Hughes said cheerfully.
"She doesn't need luck." Rebecca winked. "She's had at least two glasses of wine."
Riza waved to her companions as she crossed the room, trying to ignore the omnipresent eyes that followed her. She was fully on display for everyone to see, dressed up in her brand new party dress to join her future husband at his side.
"My dear, I believe it is time to formally get this celebration started," Bradley said to her once she approached. Not far off, her father stood talking to the Doctor Rockbells, looking as pleased with himself as Riza had ever seen. Bradley cleared his throat, once again tapping a fork to the crystal glass in his hands. After confirming the rest of the lingering chatter had died, he started speaking.
"Thank you all for coming tonight," Bradley began. "It's an honor that so many people are here to celebrate our upcoming marriage." The room politely provided a round of applause, gentle and controlled, to these words. "When I first realized that an heir was no longer in the cards with my first marriage, I was admittedly devastated. Ending my marriage was not a decision I took lightly."
Bradley's genuine sincerity when discussing his ex-wife caught Riza off guard. For a man who approached their impending marriage with such candor, focusing on the arrangement in a purely transactional fashion, hearing the endearment he held for his old wife was unexpected. It had never occurred to Riza that Bradley would hold any true sentiment for his old wife. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.
Riza suddenly realized how terrible the poor woman must feel after being thrown aside and replaced by a new model twenty years her junior mere months after her divorce was finalized.
"Luckily," Bradley continued. "Lady Hawkeye has been the light I needed to convince myself that not only was this the correct decision, but that our future will be prosperous. Please, toast with me as we celebrate the future of Bradley Industries, the birth of many children and to a long, happy marriage as Lord and Lady Bradley."
The room raised their glasses in unison. "To Lord and Lady Bradley."
Beside her future husband, Riza joined in the toast. Bradley met her eyes as the room drank in celebration.
"What a wonderful speech, my lord," Riza said politely.
"Come with me, my dear," Bradley said as he extended his arm out to Riza. She followed him to the dance floor and placed her free hand on his shoulder as he grabbed her waist. The intimacy of their position was not lost to Riza, yet his touch triggered no reaction.
The small orchestra Bradley had hired for the night began to play a simple, lively number. Bradley led Riza into a simple waltz and she followed him with ease, thankful for her ballroom training at boarding school. All eyes were on them as they moved throughout the room.
As with every interaction Riza had experienced with Bradley, he spoke very little to her, choosing instead to silently show her off to the guests circling the perimeter of the dance floor. He smiled and nodded to his business acquaintances as they whirled around the room in an elegant waltz.
Riza, on the other hand, kept her eyes decidedly on the wall, just above the tops of the party goers heads. She feared that if she made eye contact with anyone, the complacent mask she commanded over her emotions would crumble. They danced wordlessly and without passion, rigid and professional, mirroring the very skeleton of their arrangement.
As the song began to settle down, Bradley slowed his movements. The band finished with a resounding vibrato and the room began to clap as Bradley bowed, placing a gentle kiss on Riza's hand.
"Thank you for dancing with me, Elizabeth. It was divine."
Bradley's words stopped Riza's heart for a full moment. There it was. Concrete proof of Riza's deepest fear. She was a placeholder for her mother.
Part of Riza wanted to correct her future husband, but another, louder part, insisted she stay silent. She wasn't entirely certain his use of her mother's name had been an accident and now was not the time or place to make such an inquiry. She decided to shelve the concern and wait to investigate, finding temporary comfort in resolving to keep an eye out for future proof that Bradley was indeed intending to use Riza to replace his original failed engagement.
Her gut, however, told Riza she already knew the answer. Nevertheless, she curtsied to him. "It was my pleasure, my lord."
The band began another song and couples started to dance all around Bradley and herself. The room was live with excitement and Riza looked for Bradley's lead, holding his hand expectantly.
Instead of moving back into a waltz, Bradley strode over to his previous seat, guiding Riza along with him. There, General Raven was waiting.
"A beautiful dance for the beautiful couple," Raven said as he held out his glass in respect. "Now that the formalities are good and over with, can I have a minute of your time, Bradley? In private."
"Of course," Bradley said, letting go of Riza. He turned to look around the room before calling out. "Mustang!"
Roy was standing a few feet away, cheerfully talking to a man Riza did not know when his name rang out. "Yes, Lord Bradley?" He asked as he approached the small group.
"Do me a favor, will you. Dance with my fiancé. I need a word with General Raven and I'd like her to be properly entertained until I come back."
If Bradley's request racked Roy's nerves, he didn't let it show. "Of course, sir," Roy amidably replied. He threw back what little of his drink he had left, placing his glass on a small table beside them, before turning to Riza. "Lady Hawkeye."
Riza nodded her head. "Lieutenant-Colonel."
They settled into an awkward posture as Roy took the lead. Though his breathing was even, Riza could feel his arms shaking as they moved.
"You look beautiful, Lady Hawkeye," Roy said after a moment, desperate to break the tension between them. "This dress is becoming on you."
"No it's not. It's far too much and you know it," Riza said, the ghost of a smile on her face.
Roy seemed uncertain on how to continue the conversation from there. He moved with her, avoiding eye contact completely and Riza could almost hear him counting down the seconds until their dance ended.
"Bradley has barely spoken to me all night, and when he did, he called me by my mother's name," Riza blurted out. The words left her mouth before she realized what she was admitting and she internally cursed. Blame the wine for her boldness. Now that she had admitted it out loud, she could no longer pretend her fiance's misstep had never happened.
"He what?" Roy said as he looked at Riza, his hesitation gone.
"He called me Elizabeth. The man has spoken twenty words to me all night, but he is able to call me by my mother's name."
Roy twirled her softly, pulling her back towards him with the utmost ease, the tension between them now gone as one friend sought comfort in the other. "I'm sure it was a mistake."
"No it wasn't. I'm just a trophy to him- a young little thing who will pop out children and who shares the same face as the only woman he was never able to have. If I wasn't he would speak to me more."
"Did he say it was a mistake?"
"I didn't correct him nor did he notice."
"Are you sure he didn't notice?"
"Do you think I'm wrong?"
Roy's silence voiced his unspoken agreement. He shook his head and pulled Riza closer, careful to avoid crossing the line on what would be considered inappropriate. She was no longer awkwardly away from him and she decided to push the boundary as she leaned into him for emotional and physical support. Her grip on his shoulder tightened as they continued to dance. Roy did little to stop her.
"I shouldn't even care. I've never been under the impression that I wouldn't be in an arranged marriage. My father has never given me any inclination that he would not pick my husband out for me. This is the only thing I've expected. So why does this bother me?"
"Expectations don't always equal reality. Knowing you're expected to marry whomever your father decides won't always make it easier when the time comes."
"Clearly," Riza sighed into Roy's shoulder.
"Is there… is there anything I can do to help?" His voice was so quiet, Riza almost missed his words completely.
"No. Letting me vent is more than enough."
They continued to dance, allowing a peaceful silence to wash over them. The song ended but neither Roy nor Riza pulled away. After scanning the room, it was clear that Bradley had not returned from his conversation with General Raven and the pair silently exchanged glances agreeing to a second dance.
The music shifted to a slower, melodic tune almost melancholy in nature. Roy pulled Riza flush to his chest and she tucked her head into the crevice of his shoulder, breathing in his cologne. They swayed in time for a moment, forgetting everything and everyone around them. The escape was a welcomed reprieve to Riza's turbulent mind.
It occurred to Riza that this may be the most intimate exchange she had ever had with anyone. Her father left much to be desired in regards to affection and her mother existed in flashes that were more retellings of others' stories than her own memories. This tender embrace, soft and gentle, but firm and unwavering nevertheless, took her breath away more so than the hot searing kisses she and Roy had shared a week ago.
She closed her eyes, determined to capture this feeling- to preserve it in the depths of her mind for herself and herself alone. After this, she would continue playing the part of Bradley's dutiful new wife, but for right now, in this moment, Riza began to understand what it meant to be cherished.
Bradley had no interest in cherishing her. She was a placeholder- his life sized doll intended to fill the void her deceased mother and barren ex-wife had left. Each interaction with Bradley furthered Riza's understanding on why her mother had betrayed society's expectations and ran off to elope with her father. Perhaps Bradley had treated her the same way, putting her on a shiny pedestal, but never truly having an interest in knowing who Elizabeth Grumman was. Their marriage, much like Riza's impending one, would have been purely transactional. Elizabeth had been negotiated for like a prized mare at the country fair and Grumman had given her away to the highest bidder without a second thought, only for Elizabeth to reclaim her life and risk everything for love.
Rebecca's words bounced around in Riza's head relentlessly. "At least I know what it's like to be loved."
Riza swallowed, internally making her decision. She would marry Bradley, she knew deep down, but if she was to be doomed to a life as a trophy, producing children and managing the social aspects of the Bradley estate, she wanted to know happiness. She wanted to know what it felt like to be cherished.
She wanted to know what it meant to be loved.
She raised her head, closing the distance between herself and Roy. "Actually, there is something you can do."
"Hmmm," he hummed, not breaking their rhythm.
"Come to my room tonight." There was no hesitation in her words.
Roy instantly stopped dancing and pulled away from her so she could see his full face. He looked alarmed. "What?"
"Come to my room tonight." This time it was insistent, reading almost like an order.
"You don't… you don't know what you're asking," Roy stumbled.
"Yes I do," Riza reassured. She paused, searching for the right words, fully knowing she was approaching a point of no return. "I'm going to be Bradley's little possession for the rest of my life. I don't want to grow old with regrets. Please. Come to my room tonight."
Roy's breathing increased to an almost ragged pace. He stepped back, not quite letting go of Riza, but releasing her from his immediate warmth. He stared at her face, searching for the sincerity in her words, his expression unreadable. He cleared his throat.
Before Roy could speak, Riza's name rang out behind her. She turned to find Grumman cheerfully walking over to the pair.
"May this old man have the pleasure of a dance with his darling granddaughter?" Grumman asked as he offered Riza his hand.
"Of course, grandfather," Riza said as Roy let go of her completely.
It was only after Roy had walked fully out of her sight that she realized he had never given any implication of his answer.