Quatre straightened his tie for the fifth time in front of his mirror. He stared into the glass and tried to shake off his misgivings about the arrival of his betrothed and her family. No. by the end of the day, it would be decided that she and him were not to marry. He nodded to his reflection. It was only right. He pulled a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to make it smooth. He stopped himself halfway. He didn't need to make a good impression. He just needed to get the job done. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. If only Duo was here to give him a pep talk. Then again, every time Duo was over, something expensive ended up getting broken. He smiled to himself. Duo was certainly one of the happiest people he knew. Glancing back into the mirror one last time, he walked out of his room, and strode purposefully down the stairs to await his guests.

Avi nervously clenched and relaxed her hands. The car was hot, and they had been riding in it for nearly an hour, and they still had a ways to go. She was uncomfortable, and tired of sitting. She looked across at her older brothers. Together, you could never even tell they were related. Donny was fair skinned, and inherited his sandy brown hair from her father, he was tall and slender, and very precise and measured in everything he did. Marcel, by sharp contrast, had swarthy skin and dark hair from her mother. He was also loud, informal, and hearty. The two of them were inseparable, and although they doted on Avi, and loved her dearly, she always felt as if they were somehow keeping a secret between them, and wouldn't let her in on it. Marcel looked back at her and grinned.

"You look like your going to a bloody funeral, Avi, chin up, its not like we're sending you out to some stranger, and then leaving post-haste."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Marcel."

"Here let me try," Donny moved over to your seat, and sitting beside you, enveloped you in a tight, warm hug. "Well write you lots, and send you stuff all the time. Besides, you may like him."

"Thanks Donny"

She buried her face into his shoulder so neither of them could see the tear squeeze out her eye. Donny released her, but kept a comforting arm around her shoulder. Avi stared out the window at the trees and clouds whipping past in a green and white blur. It was frustrating that the weather never agreed with her mood. Right now, it seemed as if heaven itself was smiling, when all she could do was hold back the waterworks.

Quatre glanced at the clock. He had about forty-five minuets until Rothgar's arrival. If they were punctual. He heard the door open, and looked back to see Millie walking in. She was dressed becomingly in a green tank top and an pale yellow skirt. She walked to Quatre holding a small parcel in her hands.

"We, or I, actually found this just last night, while we were sorting things out regarding your betrothal," she shifted it in her hands. "I didn't open it, because its addressed to you."

"Oh. Well, let me see it."

She looked down at the ground. "I should warn you however…"

"Warn me of what?"

"These are 2 to 3 letters, I think. And if I'm right in assuming that, then I'm also right as to who wrote them." She turned them up so that Quatre could see the delicate handwriting on the front. "They're from Mother."

Quatre's heart stopped beating, as he took the letters with shaking hands. He looked at them a moment, and then shoved them back at Millie.

"Please…I don't think I'd be able to read them. Please read them aloud."

"Quat, are you sure…?"

"Yes, just…" he turned around and fought to get control of himself. "I'm sorry. Yes, please read them aloud."

She sat down softly, and opening the first. She began quietly:

"'My Dearest son,'"

Quatre almost choked. Millie glanced up anxiously, but at receiving affirmation from Quatre, continued.

"'If you are reading this, then I have passed away. I am so dreadfully sorry that I am no longer a part of your life. How I looked forward to having a son to care for when I was growing up. I know even as I write this letter, how handsome, and chivalrous, and honorable you are. Please know that I love you with all my heart. I'm writing this to you to explain exactly how you came to be engaged to Count Rothgar's daughter. Your father and I were dear friends of Rothgar's and we decided long before I became pregnant with you, that we would give our children in marriage to each other. When it was found that you were a boy, Rothgar promised his first daughter born to you in marriage. I remember how excited I was, and am to see the two of you married. I am dear friends with his wife, Roma, since my marriage to your father, some years ago. Quatre, it pains me to write this letter, because it means that I might truly not me there to see you wed their daughter. I sincerely hope you never see these words, but fate holds us with an unsteady hand, and even the best-laid plans of man often fail. Darling, I want you to understand that no matter what misgivings you might have about this marriage, it is meant to be. I can feel it, even as I feel you now, in my womb. If you have doubts, know that you are a great person. Believe it, embrace it. Let Rothgar's daughter see you at your best. Because, love, I know that you will be spectacular. I love you with all my heart, and want you to remember that.

Forever your loving Mother,

Quatrine.'"

Millie looked up at Quatre, but his back was to her, and he was facing the window. His hand clenched the back of the chair, and his shoulders shook slightly. Millie ran to him, but he held up a hand. She stopped,

"Quatre…"

He drew in a deep breath and answered her in a voice full of sadness.

"Is that," he choked and swallowed before continuing. "Is that all she writes?"

"Yes. Quatre, are you going to be-"

"I'll be fine, Millie." He turned around to face her. His face was pale, and his eyes were brimming with tears. "Please leave me. I need a few moments to compose myself, and get my thoughts together."

Millie looked up at him for a long moment, before reaching up and kissing him gently on the cheek before walking out, and quietly shutting the door. Quatre sat at his desk, and then buried his face in his arms, as bitter sobs ripped from his throat. He wept for a few minuets before sitting up and drying his eyes. He forced himself to think, but there was only one thing that occupied residence in his mind. He was going to marry Avarona Liv Rothgar. He would honor his mother's memory, and do what she wished years ago. He felt the familiar sense that someone was with him, even though he was alone. He smiled sadly at the sky.

"I can feel you mother. And I will respect your desire for me to marry this girl. I will be my best, and I will make you proud."

Quatre straightened his jacket that had become slightly rumpled from his crying, and stood up tall. He glanced at the clock. Let them come, he was ready.

The car pulled up to a large mansion, that was surrounded by wide, tall trees, and white and yellow roses. There was a fountain off to one side, in which an angel was pouring an everlasting stream of water. She fell into step behind her father, who walked briskly up to the door, and rang. A servant answered quickly, and they were shown inside a large foyer with red carpeting and about 10 women of all ages waiting to greet them. A pretty blonde, with a light green tank top and a pale yellow skirt walked up to them a beamed at them.

"Welcome! My name is Millicent, but most call me Millie. I am one of Quatre's sisters. I'm so glad that you made it."

She clapped her hands, and several of the other women stepped forward and took hats and coats from Avi and her family. All of them were introducing themselves at once.

"Good afternoon! My name is Maria."

"My name is Ellen."

"I'm called Katrina"

"Hi! I'm Quatre's sister Tammy!"

"I'm Danette!"

Avi whirled around in a circle, while ten or more names were given to her.

"Wait a minute, you're all Quatre's sisters?"

One of the girls, named Val, grinned at her, and took her hand,

"Yep! There are twenty-nine of us all together, but many of us couldn't make it. A lot of us are married, with children, living elsewhere in France, but for the most part, we all live within a few hours of each other. You'll meet us all soon."

Avi felt overwhelmed already, but shook her head and coached herself to be calm. She had to give this a try before she decided she didn't want to marry him. She heard a voice behind you, and although it was quiet, it seemed to fill the room.

"Good afternoon, Miss Rothgar."

Avi turned around to see the man who she would wed, and nearly turned back around again, to save herself from embarrassing herself. He was strikingly handsome. With a tall figure and broad shoulders that looked like they could hold a lot of weight, he also looked slightly intimidating, but his small smile made him anything but that. He was wearing brown slacks that fit nicely, and she couldn't help but note with satisfaction that they were pressed and neat. His shirt was white, and unbuttoned slightly at the top, revealing a strong neck and his collarbones. Over which he wore a darker brown suit jacket. He had high cheekbones that tapered into a perfect chin, and his hair flipped over his eyes in a way that made Avi desperately want to put her hand up and smooth it away. When she looked into his eyes, she couldn't look away again. They were deep aquamarine blue that had green near the center. They were deep, and bottomless, and although he was smiling at her, his eyes were slightly sad, and glittered with feeling. She lifted her hand to shake his, but instead he took it, and gently brushed his lips over her knuckles that sent tingling sensations up and down her arm. He looked up at her father and nodded to him.

"Count Rothgar, I hope you are well."

"I am, thank you, your sisters have erased any foul mood I might have had from the car ride."

The man smiled, "I've arranged for one of my men to show you and your sons the grounds, while your daughter and I have tea; if that is not to presumptuous on my part."

"Not at all, son."

Avi watched as his sisters filed out in different directions, and a large, burly man introduced himself, and led her father and brothers off. Leaving her alone with her…Betrothed. He looked at her and smiled reassuringly. He offered her his arm, and she took it, he felt warm next to her as they walked to a large, open room in which a small table was set with white china that had blue pictures painted on it. He gestured to the table, and then pulled a seat out for her, and pushed her in. He seated himself opposite her, and smiled warmly.

"I'm very glad you could make it, Miss Rothgar."

"Please sir, just Avarona, or Avi, as my friends and family call me."

"Only of you call me Quatre, Avi."

"Alright, Quatre."

She felt the word in her mouth as it came out. It sounded like the sounds a brook made when it rippled and washed over rocks in the bottom. He lifted the pot and poured her a cup. Then poured himself a cup too.

"Sugar, or cream?"

"Sugar please, no cream."

"One scoop or two?"

"Three, please."

He grinned at her, "A sweet tooth?"

She smiled back, "Its terrible, I know, but I can't seem to help myself."

She lifted her cup to her mouth, and inhaled the spicy scent of the dark liquid. Wrapping her fingers around the outside to warm them, she sipped her tea, and relaxed into the chair. He sat back and gazed at her for a moment with his glittering, blue-green eyes. He smiled at her again, and spoke,

"I'm going to be frank with you, Avi, if you'll be the same to me."

"Of course."

"Answer me this, do you want this marriage?"

Quatre couldn't remember seeing a more stunning girl in his life before. She was beautiful. She was the perfect height, not too tall, not too short, at around 5 feet, 2 inches. She had smooth olive skin that was unblemished save for a thin, white scar that ran from her thumb to her ring finger, across the back of her hand. She had large, dark eyes, that looked up at him beneath thick lashes. Her hair was long and curled around her face nad shoulders in the most becoming way, before stopping at her waist. She was dressed in a white summer dress that flowed around her when she walked, and brushed her legs. Her gait was poised and graceful, as if she was floating, rather than walking, and she had a curvy figure that only further complemented everything else attractive about her. When she had put her hand lightly on his arm, it had affected him more than he cared to admit, and the sparks that had gone shooting up his arm was a surprise, even if a pleasant one. He watched as she looked off through the window to her right as she thought of a reply to his answer. He stared at her profile, even that seemed to be gorgeous. He mentally kicked himself. What was he doing? He meant to woo her, not stalk her like some lovelorn teenager. She turned back towards him, her eyes a mixture of confusion, apprehension, and willingness.

"I…don't know. I wish I could say yes or no, but I can't."

"Maybe I can help you make that decision." Quatre paused. Was it wise to tell her everything now? No. he would wait awhile for that.

"I found a letter from my mother, to me, about our betrothal. She,…" Quatre breathed slowly. Then looked up at her again. "She passed away, giving birth to me, but she left me several letters regarding this and other affairs."

Avi's eyes grew sad. "Oh, Quatre, I'm so sorry."

Quatre nodded softly then continued. My mother, and your mother were extremely good friends, which is part of the reason we were betrothed. Here is the letter,"

He handed her a small folded sheet that had his name inscribed in lovely penmanship. She took it, and then shook her head.

"Its too personal, I could never-"

Quatre pushed the letter back at her and struggled to smile.

"No, its alright. I think you should read it."

Quatre watched as she carefully opened the letter and began to read. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the paper, and she softly put her hand to her mouth. She looked at him, and almost whispered

"Quatre, I don't know what to say, except that she must've loved you more than life itself, and I am truly sorry for her passing." She gently put her hand on his, and looked at him with an unwavering gaze. "Do you want this marriage, Quatre?"

"At first no, but after reading this letter, I decided that I would try." He smiled. "Yes I do want to marry you."

"Then so do I."

"Would you like to walk with me? I'd like to get to know you better."

She smiled and Quatre's spirit leaped. He wanted to make her smile all the time. he rose, and pulled her chair out for her. Then offered his arm to her. she took it, and he laid his free hand over hers. Then ushered her out the room. Quatre reflected as they walked outside, that first impressions were often misleading, but then decided that he hoped sincerely that this one was not. The only thing he could deduce thus far, was that she was a remarkable young woman.