IX "Commitment"

She shouldn't have stayed. She knew it, and did anyway.

Red light from the dying sun had streaked through the window in a certain way that convinced her, maybe, or perhaps through some private longing for a recently-dead relationship she'd instigated the whole thing. She'd reasoned to herself that everyone else would have been out for the rest of the evening—there was supposed to have been some kind of special show for the soldiers.

Neither of them had intended to be the show.

It had been an accident that a couple of Roy's bunkmates had stumbled in. They had stammered and left quickly, not having seen Riza's face. It was no matter; Roy had gained a reputation as a womanizer (as it were) overnight. The reputation was one he'd taken to, particularly, and Riza had been forced to spend the next few days acting carefully aloof to her comrades. She did finally get away with some excuse no longer remembered. Exactly what was unimportant—she knew what had transpired.

It was hard to act, though. She had gotten butterflies in her stomach every time she glimpsed Roy going to or from somewhere. Even exhausted and drunk and slightly hung over he had been a better lover than she had ever known. As luck would have it, the next day they were told to begin packing up camp and Riza and Roy became busy with separate duties…but for those first few days it became impossible not to lapse into daydreams.

Roy sent a runner for her the day before the first caravans moved out, called her to his office tent. She'd met Maes for the first time there, nervously wondering if he knew her as the mystery blonde. The Major hand then commenced to explain why he'd chosen to meet with the two of them in private, while there was a lull in official business. He'd looked her straight in the eye (his were still red) and asked her if she'd hear his testimony yet again.

With Hughes' investigation department data, there had been a lot more to tell. She'd been horrified to learn of the planned deception that had led to Ishbal's downfall, that the instigation had been the military's own fault.

"I hear you're an excellent soldier," Roy had said. "I've spoken to your superiors and found you've been recommended with praise for a promotion to the officers' ranks. Hughes and I are in need of someone with your practical expertise with weapons, and the addition of some women's intuition would be welcome. More than that, I know we can trust you, and that you believe as we do: it's time for change."

"What can I do to help?" she'd asked.

"I'll be pushing for an administration position, myself. I'll need an assistant of distinction, who can support me and advise me. I imagine the battlefield has been hard on you, after all, and I'm sure no one would think twice if you requested a quieter position, away from the stress."

It was going to be hell, for a while, if she followed his "advice." She'd assured herself that he was no doubt a practical man; he'd have his hands full enough with bureaucrats and politics and paperwork. Besides, now that he'd thrown all those compliments and inside tidbits at her, how was she supposed to shrug him off? She'd resigned herself and thrown him her best salute. "I'll do what I can, Major."

"Excellent."