Chapter 1
"And now, viewers, here is what we have been waiting for," a reporter spoke hurriedly into a camera. "Mr Almasy, and his soon to be wife, Rinoa Heartilly." She motioned them over to the camera and proceeded to thrust a microphone into their faces. "Miss Heartilly, how does it feel to be engaged to the lovely Mr Almasy?"
"Oh, well. It's, erm," she stuttered.
"What she means to say is that she's delighted. Isn't that right, hun?" Seifer butted in. Rinoa forced herself to smile.
"Yes, that's what I meant." She laughed awkwardly.
"Well, I certainly know quite a few girls who are very jealous of you." The reporter turned to the camera. This is Julia Hart for Deling City News. Back to the studio." As soon as the camera was switched off, she turned to face Seifer. "So, what do you say we go for a drink?" He seemed to consider the offer for a minute.
"Certainly, I'd be delighted to."
"Will your fiancée be joining us?" The reporter gave Rinoa a dirty look.
"No, she won't," replied Seifer. "She's been feeling unwell this evening." He turned towards Rinoa. "Get the driver to take you back to the hotel."
"Alright," she said, not wanting to argue. She got into Seifer's limousine and shut the door behind her. "The hotel, please," she told the driver.
"Will Mr Almasy not be joining you tonight?" he asked sympathetically.
"No, he won't." The driver shook his head.
"You deserve better," he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, miss," he said, putting the limousine into gear and setting off for the hotel.
Rinoa threw herself onto her bed and sighed, thinking back on the night's events.
"I can't believe he told them we were going to married. I haven't even said yes." She got undressed and readied herself for bed. "And now, I can't exactly refuse, not after he's told everyone. Not with his temper." Regardless of how the media portrayed him, Rinoa knew the truth. He wasn't the wonderful man that everybody saw him as. Last year, his father, owner of half the businesses in Deling, was murdered by Seifer's older brother who wanted the inheritance money. Seifer had found his older brother at the murder scene, and in the ensuing fight, had killed him. Everybody thought he was a saint for living through it. He'd become a celebrity because of it. Nobody but Rinoa knew just how far from the truth this was. He was an alcoholic, and refused to share his money with anyone.
"How could anyone think that he was a great man. He's not even a bit like his father yet he lives off his good reputation." Seifer's father was a very successful businessman who always donated generously to charities, and was loved by everybody. Seifer was the complete opposite. "Oh, well. At least he won't be joining me tonight." Rinoa had her own room in their hotel suite, Seifer wouldn't even buy a house for the two of them. Seifer's room was right next to hers and she imagined that he would be sleeping in there tonight, although not alone. Sighing, she rested her head on the pillow and tried to get some sleep.
A few hours later, she was awoken by a loud crash in the hallway outside her room. She could hear Seifer's voice and he was obviously drunk from the way he was slurring his words.
"Ooops, sorry. Let me help you up." He struggled to talk coherently.
"Thanks Seifer." Rinoa recognised this voice as belonging to the reporter, Julia. "I had such a wonderful evening."
"I'm going to give you an even better night," he leered at her.
"Great. I'm going to have to hear all of this," Rinoa thought, pulling the pillow over her head in an attempt to block out the sound. It proved futile, however. She heard Seifer open the door whilst kissing the reporter.
"What was that?" she heard him say.
"What was what?" Julia replied sweetly.
"I stood on something." There was silence for a few seconds. "Get out," he ordered her.
"But Seifer," she protested.
"I said get out," he screamed. She could make out sounds of a struggle, before she heard the reporter screaming.
"You hit me. You hit me, you bastard."
"Yeah, get over it." Seifer was obviously in one of his drunken rages. She could hear the woman sobbing as she ran out of the hotel suite. At that moment, Seifer came bursting in through the door of her room. "Have you seen this?" he asked, nearly falling over as he stumbled in. He handed her a crumpled note with a large footprint on it. Rinoa guessed that this was what Seifer had trodden on. She began to read.
Seifer,
Pay day's nearly here. Give us the money, or else your girlfriend will find out about our good hospitality.
Rinoa gasped. "Who's this from?" Seifer shrugged. "Who do you owe money to?"
"Nobody," he told her. "It's probably just someone who's got it in for me."
"We have to go to the police." He put his hand firmly on her shoulder.
"You will not go to the police," he ordered. "If you do, you'll be sorry," he threatened. Rinoa knew that now was a good time to drop the subject, even though she was sure he was hiding something from her. "I'll get someone to look after you. A bodyguard of something." He paced the room. "Yes, someone to look after you," he muttered. "I haven't finished with you yet." Rinoa wasn't sure whether she had heard this correctly and knew it was pointless to ask any more about it.
"Is it really necessary to have someone look after me?"
"Yes." He walked over the phone and dialled a number that Rinoa couldn't see. "Operator, give me the number for SeeD." There was a slight pause. "I don't care what time it is, just give me that number." Seifer scribbled something down on a pad of paper. He promptly put the phone down and dialled a different number. "Get me the headmaster on the phone. I don't care if he's in bed, just do it now, this is important." He waited several minutes. "Is this the headmaster? Good, I need to hire someone to look after my fiancée. 10,000 gil? No, no that'll be fine. I'll tell you what, I'll pay double if you send me your best. Yes, tomorrow will be fine." He slammed the phone down. "Someone will be coming tomorrow," he announced, leaving the room.
Rinoa was woken by a knock at her door. She looked at the clock on her bedside table. 7.00am.
"If this is another journalist, I swear I'm going to kill somebody." The person at the door knocked again impatiently. "Alright, alright, I'm coming," she shouted impatiently. She dragged herself out of bed, wearing only her nightdress and opened the door. She looked up at the person standing in the doorway. He looked down at her and blushed. "I'm sorry," she hastily said, taking her dressing gown off the hook on the back of the door and wrapping it around her figure. "Are you a journalist?" she asked.
"Do I look like one?" The man spoke in a deep, booming voice, and it was then that she noticed the blade strapped to his waist.
"Guess not. Sorry," she apologised. "I take it you're from SeeD?" He nodded. "Well, come in." She held the door open for him, taking the opportunity to look him over. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight. He was well built, muscular, with a large scar running down his forehead, between his eyes. "Please, sit down." She pointed to a chair in the corner of the room, next to the window. "I'm Rinoa." She offered him her hand to shake, but he merely stared at it. She withdrew it, offended by the man's offhand behaviour. "What's your name?"
"Squall."
"Can you say more than one word at a time?" she asked sarcastically. He glared her in reply. "What's your problem with being here?"
"I'm a SeeD, a mercenary. I'm not someone's babysitter." She sighed.
"This is going to be tough."
"And now, viewers, here is what we have been waiting for," a reporter spoke hurriedly into a camera. "Mr Almasy, and his soon to be wife, Rinoa Heartilly." She motioned them over to the camera and proceeded to thrust a microphone into their faces. "Miss Heartilly, how does it feel to be engaged to the lovely Mr Almasy?"
"Oh, well. It's, erm," she stuttered.
"What she means to say is that she's delighted. Isn't that right, hun?" Seifer butted in. Rinoa forced herself to smile.
"Yes, that's what I meant." She laughed awkwardly.
"Well, I certainly know quite a few girls who are very jealous of you." The reporter turned to the camera. This is Julia Hart for Deling City News. Back to the studio." As soon as the camera was switched off, she turned to face Seifer. "So, what do you say we go for a drink?" He seemed to consider the offer for a minute.
"Certainly, I'd be delighted to."
"Will your fiancée be joining us?" The reporter gave Rinoa a dirty look.
"No, she won't," replied Seifer. "She's been feeling unwell this evening." He turned towards Rinoa. "Get the driver to take you back to the hotel."
"Alright," she said, not wanting to argue. She got into Seifer's limousine and shut the door behind her. "The hotel, please," she told the driver.
"Will Mr Almasy not be joining you tonight?" he asked sympathetically.
"No, he won't." The driver shook his head.
"You deserve better," he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, miss," he said, putting the limousine into gear and setting off for the hotel.
Rinoa threw herself onto her bed and sighed, thinking back on the night's events.
"I can't believe he told them we were going to married. I haven't even said yes." She got undressed and readied herself for bed. "And now, I can't exactly refuse, not after he's told everyone. Not with his temper." Regardless of how the media portrayed him, Rinoa knew the truth. He wasn't the wonderful man that everybody saw him as. Last year, his father, owner of half the businesses in Deling, was murdered by Seifer's older brother who wanted the inheritance money. Seifer had found his older brother at the murder scene, and in the ensuing fight, had killed him. Everybody thought he was a saint for living through it. He'd become a celebrity because of it. Nobody but Rinoa knew just how far from the truth this was. He was an alcoholic, and refused to share his money with anyone.
"How could anyone think that he was a great man. He's not even a bit like his father yet he lives off his good reputation." Seifer's father was a very successful businessman who always donated generously to charities, and was loved by everybody. Seifer was the complete opposite. "Oh, well. At least he won't be joining me tonight." Rinoa had her own room in their hotel suite, Seifer wouldn't even buy a house for the two of them. Seifer's room was right next to hers and she imagined that he would be sleeping in there tonight, although not alone. Sighing, she rested her head on the pillow and tried to get some sleep.
A few hours later, she was awoken by a loud crash in the hallway outside her room. She could hear Seifer's voice and he was obviously drunk from the way he was slurring his words.
"Ooops, sorry. Let me help you up." He struggled to talk coherently.
"Thanks Seifer." Rinoa recognised this voice as belonging to the reporter, Julia. "I had such a wonderful evening."
"I'm going to give you an even better night," he leered at her.
"Great. I'm going to have to hear all of this," Rinoa thought, pulling the pillow over her head in an attempt to block out the sound. It proved futile, however. She heard Seifer open the door whilst kissing the reporter.
"What was that?" she heard him say.
"What was what?" Julia replied sweetly.
"I stood on something." There was silence for a few seconds. "Get out," he ordered her.
"But Seifer," she protested.
"I said get out," he screamed. She could make out sounds of a struggle, before she heard the reporter screaming.
"You hit me. You hit me, you bastard."
"Yeah, get over it." Seifer was obviously in one of his drunken rages. She could hear the woman sobbing as she ran out of the hotel suite. At that moment, Seifer came bursting in through the door of her room. "Have you seen this?" he asked, nearly falling over as he stumbled in. He handed her a crumpled note with a large footprint on it. Rinoa guessed that this was what Seifer had trodden on. She began to read.
Seifer,
Pay day's nearly here. Give us the money, or else your girlfriend will find out about our good hospitality.
Rinoa gasped. "Who's this from?" Seifer shrugged. "Who do you owe money to?"
"Nobody," he told her. "It's probably just someone who's got it in for me."
"We have to go to the police." He put his hand firmly on her shoulder.
"You will not go to the police," he ordered. "If you do, you'll be sorry," he threatened. Rinoa knew that now was a good time to drop the subject, even though she was sure he was hiding something from her. "I'll get someone to look after you. A bodyguard of something." He paced the room. "Yes, someone to look after you," he muttered. "I haven't finished with you yet." Rinoa wasn't sure whether she had heard this correctly and knew it was pointless to ask any more about it.
"Is it really necessary to have someone look after me?"
"Yes." He walked over the phone and dialled a number that Rinoa couldn't see. "Operator, give me the number for SeeD." There was a slight pause. "I don't care what time it is, just give me that number." Seifer scribbled something down on a pad of paper. He promptly put the phone down and dialled a different number. "Get me the headmaster on the phone. I don't care if he's in bed, just do it now, this is important." He waited several minutes. "Is this the headmaster? Good, I need to hire someone to look after my fiancée. 10,000 gil? No, no that'll be fine. I'll tell you what, I'll pay double if you send me your best. Yes, tomorrow will be fine." He slammed the phone down. "Someone will be coming tomorrow," he announced, leaving the room.
Rinoa was woken by a knock at her door. She looked at the clock on her bedside table. 7.00am.
"If this is another journalist, I swear I'm going to kill somebody." The person at the door knocked again impatiently. "Alright, alright, I'm coming," she shouted impatiently. She dragged herself out of bed, wearing only her nightdress and opened the door. She looked up at the person standing in the doorway. He looked down at her and blushed. "I'm sorry," she hastily said, taking her dressing gown off the hook on the back of the door and wrapping it around her figure. "Are you a journalist?" she asked.
"Do I look like one?" The man spoke in a deep, booming voice, and it was then that she noticed the blade strapped to his waist.
"Guess not. Sorry," she apologised. "I take it you're from SeeD?" He nodded. "Well, come in." She held the door open for him, taking the opportunity to look him over. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight. He was well built, muscular, with a large scar running down his forehead, between his eyes. "Please, sit down." She pointed to a chair in the corner of the room, next to the window. "I'm Rinoa." She offered him her hand to shake, but he merely stared at it. She withdrew it, offended by the man's offhand behaviour. "What's your name?"
"Squall."
"Can you say more than one word at a time?" she asked sarcastically. He glared her in reply. "What's your problem with being here?"
"I'm a SeeD, a mercenary. I'm not someone's babysitter." She sighed.
"This is going to be tough."