(sorry this took so long,
everyone! Thanks for sticking with it!)
Precious Learning
Chapter 6: The Ball
Terra didn't really know to go, and so she didn't end up going very far. She pushed through the giant oak doors of the banquet hall, past the startled guards and down the first corridor she found. It led her to a small balcony overlooking the western desert—the horizon sands were barely alight with the last honey glow of evening. She latched onto the stone rail to hold her as her body trembled, and her feet throbbed from running in the heels. She shook her head as if to deny the tears that leaked through her tightly pressed eyelids. What's wrong with me? The night air was cool on her skin, and she welcomed its mild comfort. Gradually, her crying stopped. Ashamed and confused, she scrubbed at her eyes and dried her face on a handkerchief Celes had lent her.
Gods, I must have looked like such a fool…. Terra gulped, pressing a
hand over her churning stomach. I've never acted like that before. How did
she upset me so much? She released a shuddering breath. I feel like a
child. Was I…jealous? Of that woman? But why?
"Terra?" Celes was coming up behind her, her steps slow and unsure. Terra quickly tried to clean her face of teary evidence. She couldn't respond for fear of her voice cracking. Already she knew it was too late, that Celes would ask for an explanation, but still she did her best to hold herself together and look presentable.
The former general placed a hand lightly on Terra's shoulder, and peered forward to see her face. "Terra? Are you all right?"
Terra attempted and failed to swallow the lump in her throat. "No," she croaked.
Celes slid her arm around her friend, and held her tenderly. "You're disappointed, aren't you?"
"It's not fair!" she exploded suddenly, sagging against the blonde. "The dress, these damn shoes, this ridiculous make up—I just wanted to look like one of them, for the first time in my life. To maybe…maybe belong with them, a little. But—but I don't even know why I bothered." She began to scrub at the color on her cheeks and eyelids. "Who cares? I'm not like them, I'm nothing—just a—"
"Stop that," Celes admonished gently, hugging her close. "Don't say that, Terra. What do you care what a noble from Albrook thinks? She's never done the wonderful things you've done. None of the people in there have been through what you have. You don't need to prove anything to them."
Terra sniffled, bringing herself under control once more. "I know," she said through a sigh. "I know that—it's just…something else. I just felt humiliated, and…tiny."
Her friend regarded her carefully, judging the words she'd chosen. "It was that woman Elyse, wasn't it?" she asked tentatively.
Don't admit it, don't admit it. "…Yes."
Celes exhaled heavily in sympathy. "I see. You…really were doing it for Edgar, weren't you?"
Terra wiped her face ungracefully on the back of her hand, and nodded slowly. "Yes. I just wanted so badly to…to make him happy. He looked so lonely the other day—or so I thought." She heaved a sigh and eased out of her friend's comforting embrace. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"I do." She smiled grimly. "You like him, and it hurts to see him with someone else."
Terra stared at her, surprised by how simple the words sounded when Celes said them. Her jaw worked several times before she could speak them herself. "I…like him?"
"Don't you?"
"I…." She stammered awkwardly, and lowered her head. "I don't know. I've never…felt like this before."
Celes was smiling at her, softly, almost admiringly. "And I bet you wanted to rip that girl's head off."
"More than that," Terra retorted before she could help herself. "Who does she think she is anyway? Bringing outfits like that to a serious delegation. And hanging over him as if—" She stopped abruptly, realizing how she sounded. She covered her face in embarrassment. "Gods, I really am jealous, aren't I? But how…? It's not like I haven't seen Edgar with other girls before."
"Well, maybe you're seeing him differently than before." Celes leaned against the balcony rail, staring out over the desert. "It happened to me, too, when I met Locke. At first I thought he was just a ruffian—a ruffian that saved my life, but still, a rat."
Terra winced at the description, but listened patiently as Celes continued. "But the more time I spent with him, the stranger he made me feel. Like…uneasy and excited and stupid. But I always liked being with him, because he made me feel…alive." She glanced at her friend to see if she was following. "And he still does. Do you understand?"
"A little," she admitted. "I…like being with Edgar." She took a deep breath, gaining back her composure completely. "Thanks, Celes. I appreciate you coming after me," she laughed. "I'm okay, now."
Celes nodded, still watching her intently. "Do you think you can go back inside?"
Can I stand to eat dinner with that woman? But what will Edgar think if I
don't come back? I don't want him to think I've become ill again.
"Yes, I can go back. Just let me go freshen up a bit." I don't
want him to know I was crying.
The former general nodded again, looking relieved and understanding. "That's fine. I'll go back and let them know you're all right. There'll be a seat saved at the table for you when you get back."
"Thank you. I'll be there soon."
Celes returned to the banquet hall, and Terra quickly found a washroom in which to straighten her dress and clean her face. Fortunately she was able to do a convincing job of wiping the tears away. Her eyes still looked a bit red, but she reasoned that she could explain this effect as coming from her illness, if need be. All right, Terra. Let's get back in there. With a deep breath she gathered her wits and followed after Celes.
As Celes had promised, the chair at her side was saved. Terra took a seat across from Setzer and apologized for having run off so abruptly. "I was a bit nauseous," she explained. "But I'm all right now."
"Are you sure?" Setzer asked with concern. "You don't have to stay if you don't feel well."
"No, I'd like to stay." She smiled faintly. "I'm considered a delegate, after all, and I don't want to waste Edgar's invitation." Unwillingly her eyes jumped to the far end of the table, where Edgar was seated at the head. He was speaking to one of the delegates, but as soon as Terra caught his eye he sent her a questioning look. He was worried about me, too. Just the thought made Terra feel a bit better, and she smiled back at him, nodding to affirm her well-being. I'm okay, she mouthed.
He still looked troubled, but nodded back, and returned his attention to the Jidor ambassador at his side. Terra glanced about again, though knowing she shouldn't have, and spotted Elyse halfway down the table, out of the King's hearing range. The blond was speaking politely to Sir Fedric. Terra quickly turned away before she was caught watching.
Dinner progressed without incident. Terra didn't eat much, remembering Celes's warning—though she didn't feel like eating much anyway. She chatted with her friends and laughed at Locke's jokes. Every once and a while she would cast a glance in Edgar's direction; each time she felt more foolish for the way she'd behaved. So he'd been flirting with one of the delegates—what did it matter? Edgar's open, honest, and jovial manner was a trait she appreciated in him. She had no right to be upset.
At last the banquet had ended, and everyone was escorted into the ballroom. As the mass gradually filtered out into the expansive setting Edgar appeared suddenly at Terra's side to be assured of her well-being. She thanked him for his concern and politely declined from accepting the first dance. "I still feel a little light-headed," she exaggerated. "Maybe after a few songs."
"All right then. Take care." The king squeezed her hand comfortingly and then moved away to entertain his guests. Terra wasn't surprised to see him offer his dance invitation to Elyse, who until then had been speaking to some others of her peers. She smiled radiantly and took Edgar's arm, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.
I can't blame either of them, Terra thought glumly. Edgar's just like that, and Ms. Rullivan…well, I can hardly condemn her for appreciating his company. She twisted her fingers around her dress. After all, she's braver than I am….
Locke and Celes moved onto the dance floor together as the first song began, and Terra stepped back, content to watch. She'd never had the chance to learn how to dance—Celes moved with amazing fluidity and grace for someone who'd done nothing but fight all her life. Even Locke, the peasant and thief, followed the motions of the dance as if a noble himself. She only permitted herself to look at Edgar once; after that, her cheeks flushed and heart skipped, and she turned away. It wasn't worth getting upset over again.
"Your Norin is quite a card player."
Terra glanced over her shoulder at Setzer, who was watching her with a bit of a grin on his face. "Well," she replied, confused at his choice of topic, "if he is, he got it from you."
He chuckled. "He's a good kid, too—he got that from you."
"That's nice of you to say so, but he deserves that credit. He's been such a help to us all." He's trying to keep your attention, she realized. Away from Edgar, and the dance. She smiled. Thanks, Setzer. "How is the Falcon coming along?"
"Just beautifully," Setzer replied proudly. "She's a peach, that ship. Cleaning up like a diamond. I'll have to show you around tomorrow—help me add my woman's touch."
Terra laughed. "All right, Setzer, I will."
Edgar felt like he was seventeen again.
It was only the first dance, but he was nearly breathless. He was not a stranger to fine ladies—even exceptionally beautiful ones—and yet this woman captivated him. It was not only her looks that held him, but the flashing, inviting gleam in her ocean eyes, and the twisted smirk of her lips. She danced with a flare. Every movement was accented by an extra tilt of the head, a flick of the wrist; she had not learned to dance as the court ladies had, through practiced instruction. Sometimes he even wondered if she really knew the steps, or rather was making them up as she went along. But she never missed a beat and never faltered.
"You have an interesting style of dance, Ms. Rullivan," Edgar commented at last.
"I learned from my brother." She spun, though her hand remained curled in his. "Though I wish your players would perform something with more spirit, Sir Edgar," she added with an almost challenging tone. "Surely your desert blood isn't satisfied with a waltz…?"
"There are very few things that satisfy desert blood, Madam," Edgar replied coolly, forgetting himself for a moment as his eyes made a sweeping look of her figure.
Elyse noted the direction of his lingering stare with eyebrows arching. "His majesty should be careful with such insinuating remarks," she warned. "Company of less moral character than myself would take them as some dare."
He grinned. It was as if they were playing a game—he hadn't met a woman like this for some time. "And what would those of your character take them as?"
"An invitation." She released his hand and stepped back, curtsying. Before Edgar could question she'd strode swiftly toward the small band providing the ball's music. The conductor turned his attention momentarily to listen to the woman's request, and with surprise glanced at Edgar for confirmation. Though he didn't know what she had in mind, Edgar nodded his consent. The conductor sent his monarch a look of appreciation before giving instructions to his players.
"What was that all about?" Edgar asked as the blond diplomat returned.
Elyse smiled smugly, replacing his hands on her hips. "For all your rattle I hope your bite holds venom," she replied coyly. She took his wrists and tilted her head back. "My brother taught me more than the Triller's Waltz, you know."
Realization dawned on Edgar as the music began, and Elyse's strange posture became clear. I haven't danced this in years, he thought with a brief flash of apprehension—or was it excitement? So few people now even knew the dance they were about to perform, as was proven when several people politely departed from the floor. It's not as if I've forgotten—dear Gods, how could I? "Oh, to have the spirit and body of the young," he declared, laughing.
She joined him, though both sobered quickly as the music began to pick up
speed, indicating the beginning of the dance. Edger took in a deep breath. You
asked for this, Edgar. Don't you dare disappoint her now.
"Edgar's got to be out of his mind!" Locke exclaimed, though he was grinning ear to ear. He and Celes had moved off the dance floor, and were standing with Terra and Setzer off to the side. "Dancing the Illdred."
"The Illdred?" Terra echoed curiously. "What's that?"
"An exceptionally difficult dance," Setzer answered. "Impressive to watch."
Celes cocked an eye at him. "You're only going to watch? I thought you'd be a master at this kind of style."
The gambler laughed heartily. "Be my partner, and I'd be more than willing to demonstrate just as you say, General."
"Very well then." To Locke and Terra's surprise, Celes offered her hand. Her face was still and confident, though it held a smile.
Setzer blinked, himself startled by her immediate response. After a moment he laughed and accepted. "All right—let's show these nobles how dance is done, shall we? Forgive me if I borrow her just this once, Locke," he added with a wink. The pair moved quickly to the floor and took positions just before the music reached its cue.
Terra and Locke stood back, both disconcerted at having been left behind. "Peacock," the latter muttered, crossing his arms. "They both know I don't know that dance. Show offs."
Terra soon saw what Setzer had meant. The Illdred, as they'd called it, was unlike anything she'd ever witnessed. With the tempo racing those couples that were participating were forced to display a remarkable degree of agility. She was silently envious of how well the woman were able to move, even in their high-heeled shoes. Elyse especially, her skirt spinning, one moment at the end of Edgar's reach and the next pressed to his hip. His arm snaked about her waist and she bent over it backwards, so far that it was painful to watch.
Locke whistled, as he too was apparently watching the pair. "That girl's pretty good," he remarked. "You don't see many people now-a-days that can pull off the Illdred—takes a lot of commitment."
"Is that why you never learned?" she asked jokingly, trying to keep her mind off of how amazing the pair looked together.
The treasure hunter snorted. "Ha! I could show them a thing or two about dancing…but not in this atmosphere." He plucked a champagne glass off a nearby servant's tray and downed it. "Celes'll tell you. I can dance fine."
"Yeah…." Terra glanced about, trying to not look at the swirling couples, and not succeeding well. Edgar looks really happy, she thought with a sigh. Maybe that's all he really needed to get him to be himself again. She gathered herself up. If that's so, then good for him. I'm glad. "Locke, I think I'm going to go back to my room."
"Are you okay?" he asked. "Do you want me to walk with you?"
"No, I'm all right. I'm sure Celes will want another dance, anyway." She smiled up at him. "It's okay, Locke. Enjoy the ball, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sure, okay. Take care."
Terra nodded, and with a small smile left the ballroom.
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