***Author's Notes***
Scene finished.
Not much else to comment on except that this chapter begins with a strong focus on Agrias and Ramza interacting first with each other, and then later on branches out to how they deal with others.
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-10 "Hit and Miss" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 05)
Agrias had been surprised, losing her prized control of the situation as Ramza asked her to follow him and explore some of the castle with her.
"I have to take care of Ovelia. . ." she told him, knowing that she was just making up reasons to avoid what it was Ramza wanted to confront her with.
The steadfast way that Ramza simply waited for her to change her mind unnerved Agrias, who felt as if she was arguing with her conscience. (What are you doing here, away from her?) her mind accused her.
"I want to talk with you," Ramza told her, bringing forth in his forward, calm, and penetrating manner what he wanted, what they both feared, desired and anticipated. He knew her initial statement was an excuse, an escape.
"I can't Ramza. . ." Agrias hastily replied, making as if she would return to the baths, obviously to check back on Ovelia. "Don't ask me this."
Ramza had sat down at a table placed right next to a wall. To stop unnerving her, he didn't stare directly into her eyes, staring at a place on the wall near her, but not past her. What was the worst was that Agrias could tell that Ramza was beginning to hide the fact that he was uncomfortable as well. Uncomfortable did not define what he felt, and she knew it was disappointment, confusion and not a little bit of hurt. He was beginning to shield his actions, his emotion, in other words, he was beginning to close his heart. What upset Agrias was that Ramza thought he was doing this for her sake too, not just his.
(Its not that simple, but you could make better decisions,) Agrias thought, wondering what it was she would do. Agrias did not like the fact that in a way, Ramza was leaving everything up to her, implicating her with all of the responsibility, and in an extension, all the problems. As if it was all on her hands.
He turned his gaze to stare into her, and Agrias didn't know what to say as he told her simply. "That's," he began, stuttering, "that's all right." She could tell that Ramza forced himself to finish his statement with "I understand."
She expected him to leave now, but Ramza was not so melodramatic, even with him being basically being rejected. The boy had tenacity, Agrias tiredly acknowledged. Perseverant or hardheaded: the trait depended on how one was involved.
"Maybe sometime, Ramza?" she said weakly as she got ready to exit the room. Opening the door into the hallway, she looked back. (Rejected?) her mind threw at her, (Hardly! You lie to yourself. . .)
What disturbed was the way Ramza seemed unaffected now, never having fully lost his composure, but in that brief moment, he had put up his own defenses. Agrias didn't blame him for it. She too felt hurt by her own actions, but she felt that it was unfair of him to push her this way. (Doesn't he know he's forcing me to make a decision?)
(I don't want any of this. . .) she told herself, ignoring the way her inner voice growled at her.
"I would like that," he told her, the shields falling away for just a moment as she heard the casual anticipation in his voice, and the way his false façade lost its dull edge, a brief quirk of his mouth indicating a fantasizing smile.
(Stop that. . .) she thought, wishing she could tell him no. Not out of rejection: to push him way, but because he was affecting her too much, complicating her life more than it should be.
(Why can you never accept the simple answer?) Agrias' subconscious told her, jarring the Holy Knight. (Simple doesn't mean insincere, and it doesn't mean it's a lie.)
Taking a stand, Agrias turned around and peeked into their room. Though she knew it wasn't a solution, Agrias once again took the initiative. Being the aggressive one, the assertive one, the aware one, was something that Agrias drew comfort from. Being in command, having so many responsibilities, duties, and burdens had changed her, Agrias knew. It wasn't an admission that Agrias was fond of pondering.
"I know what you are asking me," Agrias told him as directly as she could, trying to lose the tone of command in her voice while she tried to convey the gravity of what she was trying to tell him. Agrias paused, doubt beginning to reclaim her mind again as she wondered what she would say next, knowing that she may have just pushed back too hard and too close to the subject at hand. Thinking back on what she shared with him, Agrias referred to one of those events. "Ask me another time. . ."
Agrias thought that was best. To say something else would be to risk him taking it the wrong way. The 'You're a nice guy. . .' speech was something males knew all too well as the death knell to any chance of them courting a female. (As much as he may be able to read into me,) Agrias thought, (I'm not leaving it to chance that he may think I'm driving him away.)
(Isn't that what you're doing?) a thought accused her.
Ramza smiled at her, and Agrias had to turn her head slowly back into the hallway. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she told him. She didn't know if he would still be in the room then, but she knew she felt uncomfortable around him right at this moment. Not that Agrias was afraid that he would leave in a tantrum, but that. . . that. . . (Argh!)
"Headache tonight?" Ramza called after her as she shut the door behind her.
The joked implication was something Agrias did not find funny, but frustrating as he switched from what she thought of as romantic -in the 'clueless and fearful of rejection' fashion, to humorous, with a naughty undertone.
On the other side of the door, Ramza blinked as he heard thumping. Curious, he immediately stood and up strode over an opened the portal. Even though he knew who it would be, Ramza realized exactly how the sound was produced. Ramza did not flinch as he stared into Agrias' exasperated façade at point-blank range, to the point where he could smell her breath; stale, yet warm and enticing to him. Politely, Ramza kept from breathing onto her, as he tracked his gaze upwards. Seeing, the reddish patch on Agrias' forehead where she must have struck herself against the door, creased in a frown, Ramza immediately regretted his repartee.
The cold bemusement that Ramza could see in Agrias' eyes almost set utter terror upon Ramza. It would have, had he not seen the slight smirk that Agrias masked with her angry expression. It wasn't terror he felt, but he was anxious as to what she would do in retaliation. Yet, he found it worthwhile, feeling that whatever coin she would demand, he would accept gladly.
Her expression turning blasé, Agrias leaned in to Ramza, but she lost her nonchalant edge as Ramza did not retreat, but calmly stood his ground, expecting what it was she would do. To draw an effect from him, Agrias uttered a small moan, one of discomfort that transformed into a sultry purr. "Sorry honey," she purred, utterly enjoying the way Ramza was taken off-guard. Leaving Ramza stunned, Agrias turned and walked away from him in the route that lead to the baths, taking care to put more emphasis into the sway of her hips as she calmly paced away.
As an afterthought, Agrias shook her head, making her hair shift behind her, locks clung together by the bathing water separating, creating a billowy shroud for a moment. The mewl she added was simply too cruel.
***
Ramza did not stay in the room after Agrias had left. Walking in the other direction from the baths, Ramza found and asked one of the castle's civilian staff for some food. He found the man making the rounds, inspecting the empty chambers in what Ramza assumed to be the guest quarters.
The steward was apprehensive and very curious about what Ramza would need, since it was known that Princess Ovelia was visiting the castle, and that this boy -Ramza- in front of him was one of her guards.
"Something plain - for all of us," Ramza told him.
"Are you sure, sir?" the older man addressed Ramza, dubious but polite.
Ramza answered the question that the steward must have been thinking. "Her highness enjoys solidarity with her subjects. She would prefer dining with her us."
Rumors had been circulating within the castle about the princess even before she had arrived. The cardinal had never been one for secrets, and word of the 'state visit' spread through the denizens of Lionel Castle. Seeing the state of her guards, worn out from being in the field, only fanned the flames of gossip.
To Ramza, the steward was probably already adding this encounter with one of Ovelia's 'entourage' to the pool of intrigue. "Ah. . . of course. If you'll come with me to the kitchen, you can select which dishes you would like for us to take to your room. If you want, there's almost always a cook on duty-"
"No need for special treatment," Ramza interrupted him. "So long as it can warm and fill a belly, it is enough."
Apprehensively, the steward politely acquiesced. "If you'll follow me sir, the kitchens are this way." Wanting to ask about the nature of the princess' visit, but too indoctrinated into his role, the steward fell back to idle, though welcome, chatter. "Let's find something for you to eat."
Allowing the servant a small lead, Ramza tailed behind, taking time to examine the hallway covered in stone and reinforced by wooden frames above in the ceiling. No matter how cozy the environment tried to be, even with vibrant tapestries and sometimes small tables with knick-knacks on them, Ramza never felt at home within a castle.
He had always seen these places for what they are. A stronghold, a place meant to withstand attack. A place where one radiated power, and the surrounding area was at their fiat. Having grown up in Igros Castle, Ramza had learned as he grew up just how much power the nobles wielded, and how much of that power they spent to hold onto what influence and affluence they possessed.
Though security was not a question when it came to castles, Ramza never found comfort within them.
Blinking, Ramza interrupted his thoughts, noticing the steward beginning to walk down one of the spiral series of stone steps that traveled through the levels of the castle. He wondered why he was beginning to feel nostalgia.
He didn't have much success as he traveled down the counter-clockwise spiral. Even the stairway had martial functions. Most people were right- handed, and in ascending such a staircase, would have to fight uphill with their right arc against the stairpost, while the defenders above could sweep down upon them.
Ramza wondered if there were any other reasons why he felt so unsettled.
(It can't be her. . .) Ramza reasoned, attempting to find what else it was that was bothering him.
***
The familiar smell of the spit, sauces and the salty smell of cooked meat let Ramza know they were near. The steward had only wanted to talk of the 'mystery' behind Ovelia and her arrival, and Ramza thought there was no reason that people should know of this.
The heat was the second indicator as Ramza stepped into the kitchen's main chamber. If it wasn't for the tables strewn with ingredients, in- progress meals, and the finished products, the scene could have been mistaken for a forge. On one side of the wall was a series of cooking spits arranged in a row where the furnaces would've been.
"Phillip," a man clad in a smudged and stained smock -which had once been white- hailed Ramza's guide. "What can I do for you?"
"Princess' Ovelia's. . ." the steward paused, trying to think of how to address Ramza. He coughed to clear his voice to mask his hesitation. "Her Highness' warrior is here to select her and her entourage's meal."
Ramza could see the cook began to get frustrated. "Without any notice?" the cook grumbled, his heat-reddened face in a frown.
The steward shrugged, showing to his friend that he was just as lost. "Kevin, Her Highness wants a simple meal, one that she can share with. . ." the steward paused again, "them. . ." he finished, unable to find the term.
The cook blinked. "Oh well. Guess they're too exhausted from that skirmish to have dinner with the Cardinal tonight." Remembering that Ramza was there, the tall and broad-shouldered cook paused, knowing he had just committed a faux pas. The man looked fat, but as he moved, one could see the mass of muscle flex and stretch.
"Something like that," Ramza said tiredly. While he knew he shouldn't have said anything to confirm or deny whatever rumors were floating around, Ramza also thought that intimidating others wasn't the solution to that problem.
"Sorry, sir," Phillip began, finally addressing what he had wanted to ask. His friend had already let the Couar out of the bag, so to speak. "There's been a report involving mercenaries making an attempt on the princess' life."
Even though Ramza knew that the man referred to today's slaughter, he still thought back to how the group that he had 'belonged' in had betrayed the princess. Ramza had his own thoughts as to how Goltana and Larg, rivals for the realm both, were involved in this act of treason. With the resources that both wielded, it could be classified as a coup -or more appropriately: civil war.
Between those two, Ivalice would be divided. (Except for the Church. . .) Ramza pondered.
"No," Ramza told them, knowing it would stir up even more controversy, but it would also deflect from Ovelia. "They were after someone that the princess had placed under her protection."
"Oh. . ." Kevin remarked, drawling the word out, as if trying to understand the question even as he replied. It was analogous to a student eagerly raising his hand to report before he had finished finding the answer.
"The other young man with you?" the steward asked.
Other servants had begun to come near as well. Several of the mess- boys were beginning to clean up the preparatory tables around the fallen, the steward, and the cook. A woman hauling in a group of steins in either hand dropped them roughly onto the table Where the cook was tall and massive, she was short and stout, having mud-black hair and a slightly darker skin tone.
"You mean the curious little boy in yellow and blue?" she jumped into their conversation with a cynical tone.
"We have company, wife," the cook said tiredly.
"Yes, we do, dinnae we?" she replied in her highland accent. The sarcasm in her reply held no venom, only exasperation. "I have one of them following me now."
"The stomach rules all," the cook joked.
"Aye, dear," his wife told him, turning around and looking for the young man supposed to be following her. "Now where'd that laddie go?"
"What do you mean, wasn't he following you?" the steward asked.
"Don't worry," Ramza said. "Like your. . ." he hesitated as he looked at the woman, "husband," another pause as she nodded at him, standing by the cook to show he wasn't assuming anything, "said, his stomach will bring him here."
"Everyone," she spat out. "You mean men."
Wisely, none of the males spoke up.
***
"Have you found a place to spend the night?" Ramza asked Mustadio was lead into the kitchen. Some of the mess-boys and cauldron-girls had been searching for the young man, and one of the girls -a woman wearing yellows and greens- had retrieved him.
"Took me a while," the engineer quipped, "but they found me a bunk
"And you say its us," the cook's wife cut in, "that have problems with getting lost."
Ramza and Phillip could only give helpless expressions as the cook was henpecked.
"We all do," Ramza said, in his way trying to disarm the friendly argument. Sometimes, even playful conflict could turn serious.
"I remember when you first came here, Kim," Phillip remarked jovially. "You always tagged along with one of the others everywhere you went for fear of being - ow!" Phillip cried out as she stepped on his foot as she left to drop off the steins somewhere else to be cleaned.
"My name is 'Kimberly' first of all. I'll leave you here to fill yer' bellies," she told them all. "I still have to tend to those damn drunk soldier-laddies up in the mess," she grumbled.
Ramza chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. "Some of the cadets had that problem," he told them. "Which is why all the squad leaders 'happened' to not notice whenever the serving. . ." Ramza paused, giving the woman a small smile, "lassies," he continued, "spilled hot soup on them every now and then."
"Dearie. . ." the woman said, her tone softening as she leaned in towards him. "Are you trying to make my heart a flutter?" Ramza just shrugged, giving her an ambiguous reply with his body. The pleasant and calm expression on his face could mean either affirmative or negative, leaving the decision to the onlooker. "If I was just a few years younger," she countered, grinning as she noticed her husband's jaw drop. "Tell me," she began in her normal tone, "were you one of these ruffians or one of these bonnie leaders?"
"Both," Ramza remarked to Karen, and to her credit, she wasn't surprised, simply understanding what Ramza told her. "I was different then."
"You protect the princess, right?" the cook asked. "You a mercenary?"
"Kevin. . ." the steward tried to warn his friend that he was being too forward, asking what wasn't his business.
"I graduated from Gariland Magic Academy," Ramza told them. "Its not just mages that train there," Ramza told them. "It became more martial because of the war," Ramza explained, noticing that he had begun to gesture with his hands as he talked. "It became the feeding school for cadets training to be Hokuten. Before, the force was all local militia or transfers from other units."
"You were Hokuten?" Kimberly asked, "What happened to you?"
"I failed," Ramza told them. "I didn't know it, but I was caught between my duty and my conscience."
"Well, what did you do then?" Mustadio came into the conversation. He was curious, and he hated being silent in a conversation, even if what he said made things worse for him.
"Nothing. I didn't even make a choice. I failed at both." Ramza wondered what else he would tell them. Generalities were evasions in their own way.
"That's a lesson more should learn without having to experience it," Kimberly told him sympathetically. "Pardon my rudeness, sir. . ."
"Ramza," he told Kim his name.
Kimberly grunted, "Well, I'm going to be taking some 'soup' to those soldiers now." She turned and gave Mustadio a dubious look. "Try not to get yourself into trouble."
"Good luck," Mustadio called after her
"You'll need it more than me!" Kimberly called back.
Ramza chuckled as the woman walked away, and he gave a curious look towards Kevin. "You're a lucky man."
Kevin shook his head. "You're the only one that thinks so."
"Wait till she hears that," Phillip told him.
"She already knows, right?" Mustadio piped up.
Kevin just turned his back on them. "Pick out what you need and be done with it. Humiliating me is not part of the dinner package."
"Entertainment helps the appetite," Mustadio continued in a jocular tone.
Ramza only sighed as Kevin growled, backing up before turning around, brining his bulk to intimidate the young man. "Under the princess' protection or not, laddie, there are two ways I can get your next meal into your stomach. Down your throat or up the nether passage."
"Still, you care for her. . ." Ramza stated, not trying to defuse the situation so much as probing for what the large man really thought.
"Don't let her know that," Kevin stated gruffly as he let Mustadio back away; the boy had found a new interest in the portions of different foods spread around the tables.
"Give it up, sir," Phillip said snidely, "The more you think about it, the more confused you are."
"Love isn't logic. . ." Ramza murmured, growing distracted as he saw the steward staring past the other men he was with; Phillip's gaze towards one of the cooking fires, looking at a smoke-grimed girl dressed in browns and grays tend to the spit where a couar roasted. "Sometimes. . ." Ramza continued, talking to himself, "you have to accept that." Looking at how his comment, overheard by Phillip, caused the steward to wince as the man stared at the girl by the fire, Ramza chose to let the subject go.
***
Padding down the hallway, Agrias wondered what it was she would do. To accept, to embrace, or to push away, to reject. "I'm attracted to him. . ." she said softly out loud as she walked, making sure to hop between carpet to carpet, hating the cold stone floor.
The closer she got to the women's bath, the more worried Agrias grew. (Tactical retreat?) she mused.
(A siege. . .) she replied to herself. The fact that Ramza desired her in return wasn't something she could deny now. It was flattering, but beyond that superficial reaction, it was frightening. Someone, another human being, wanted her out of something more than base lust.
Not simply to lay claim to her body, but to her heart.
"I want Ramza. . ." Agrias admitted, finding that open confession to herself oddly relaxing, "but do I need him?"
When Alicia stepped out of the women's bath, clothed in a pale olive blouse and a faded saffron skirt, the irritated expression on her subordinate's face let Agrias know she had been heard.
Taken aback, Agrias was caught off-guard. Both knights, each clad in thin cloth instead of armor, faced each other off. Alicia spoke first in a tone that lacked none of her characteristic humor, annoyance, or childishness. "Lavian is with the princess," she told Agrias, before changing the subject. "As a friend, we need to talk about what you are doing -what you will be," Alicia interrupted herself, "doing with Ramza."
Agrias knew Alicia well enough that if she was willing to breach protocol to this extent, there would be no deterring her from having that discussion, insubordination or not. "What do you wish to know?"
The smartcrack did not come.
"That," Alicia said annoyed, as she lead Agrias to a room across the women's bath, a collecting gathering area filled with benches, a place to lounge before and after ablutions. "Why do you act like that when it comes to him?"
Agrias had answers, but none of them was something she wanted to share, even with herself.
***
"I know I'm overstepping my bounds," Alicia remarked as Agrias gave a hard stare past her, at the stone wall where they sat against the side of the room with the door.
"Why do you want to know?" Agrias asked back.
Alicia ignored that. "If you think you're choosing your job," Alicia said solidly, "over your emotions, you're only fooling yourself. You're almost forsaken your duty outright once or twice. You've certainly violated the spirit of it. . . I never thought I'd see the day you'd skirt by on the letter of things." Seeing Agrias turn her gaze towards her, Alicia was only encouraged by her provocation. "You think he's a distraction, don't you?" Alicia bluntly stated.
"Yes," Agrias replied. It was the honest answer, but she felt guilty by saying it in that way.
"I'm not saying that he isn't anything to you then," Alicia gritted out, frustrated. "But why do you put him down like this? You don't just feel lust for him, this is affecting you too much."
"What if it is just that base emotion?" Agrias coldly tossed back, feeling that she was digging herself deeper, her defensive answers only serving to push her farther away from what she really thought.
Alicia grew subdued, as if she was resigned. People like her did not get boisterous when infuriated, but they quiet, all the energy that mirrored their spirit being hidden, focused. When she spoke, her voice was serious and clipped. "In the years I served under you, I've gotten to know you. I've learned things about you. You're good at hiding some things, but you're so inexperienced," Alicia pointed out, "in this 'game,' that you didn't even know better to hide when a man fascinated you."
Agrias felt the beginnings of a migraine form.
When Alicia smirked, it was followed by a small chuckle. "I've seen you want men before." Agrias knew that to deny that was pointless. "The way you seemed drawn to them, the way you looked after them. . ."
"What's your point," Agrias interrupted her. She knew that Alicia was most likely telling the truth from her perspective.
"You never thought of them after seeing them a few times," Alicia said carefully, as if stating an argument. "The idea of Ramza gets into," Alicia said in a insinuating tone, a bit of friendliness beginning to show, "you even when he's not there."
"You found that special," Agrias remarked dryly.
"I hear its called an 'epiphany,'" Alicia mocked, "but to me, its 'the stupid finally seeing what's always been there.'"
Alicia's anger was beginning to fade by the way she was beginning to look more relaxed.
"What I see is, that boy's affecting you in a way I've never seen before." Alicia smiled as she moved in for the kill, lying back on the stone bench she and Agrias shared. "I can see that he happens to ring your bell," she quipped, "you look the same as when some yummy stud fresh from working in the fields, all sweaty and tired got near us. . . mm-mm-mm!"
"Yes. . ." Agrias drawled out. "Are you just going to continue torturing me?"
"Until you realize that lov-" Alicia caught herself, "liking Ramza isn't something for you to be ashamed of." She poked Agrias in the side with the toes on her left foot. "At least I'm not worried about you so much."
Agrias just gave her an uncomprehending glance as Alicia craned her head upwards to deliver a lecherous smirk.
"I was beginning to think the man who'd make you a woman was only a myth," Alicia remarked dryly.
Feeling the conversation turn lighter, Agrias followed the thread, interested. "A myth?" She took a breath. "To tell the truth," Agrias said, knowing that her statement would reveal nothing knew to someone who knew her as long as Alicia had, "I never planned on getting married. . ." Agrias withheld a sigh that accompanied the melancholy and resigned loneliness that accompanied that thought.
"Mm?" Alicia hummed, sitting up to face Agrias. "I don't remember bringing up the topic of marriage."
Agrias froze as Alicia broadsided her with her own words.
"I. . ." Agrias stuttered, "I meant that. . ."
"Stop denying it. You should feel pride, not shame." Alicia let out a frustrated sigh. "I know I'm probably only giving you second thoughts as to any chance of you being with him, but dammit boss!" she cried. "What's so wrong? You care for him, and I've seen and felt," Alicia emphasized, "that he's interested in you more than just what men chase us for. He's not the Adonis, but he's as close to the perfect man for you as God created. In case you haven't noticed," Alicia said sardonically, "you can't marry St. Ajora. You're a knight, not a nun!"
"With what we do for a living. . ." Agrias countered.
Alicia's retort was in a theatric tone that mocked Agrias' voice by imitation. "Ah, the tragic ballad of the knight and her mercenary. . . either may die any day. . . and to love would only mean to be hurt the other all the more when one of them dies! Oh, cruel world!" Alicia let out a derisive snort. "Why deny both of yourselves happiness?" Alicia tossed back. "You're doing what you can to make the world a better place, but you can' hold it up all by yourself. You're a soldier, not a clergywoman. Discipline not self-denial." she pointed out. "You've almost died so many times that you're sense of mortality is more acute than anyone else's. Meaning, you're more desperate to live, and to enjoy what little bit of life that you can." Agrias knew she was caught trying to run away. "I remember you thinking others cowards when they pulled that same '
Agrias remembered why many people couldn't hold a conversation of a serious nature with Alicia. The feisty chemist-knight's personality enabled her to switch from angry to amused and back again, and all throughout Alicia was aggressive, simply forward and intolerant of deceit, denial, or diversion in discussions. In other words, while she appeared to be a clown, Alicia also put more weight in her chats. "You lured me into this, didn't you?"
"I will confess to that" Lavian's calm voice spoke.
(Why is it that when others bring it up, I find liking. . .) Agrias grunted at the headache that thought caused, (. . . loving him so much easier to accept.)
When Ovelia spoke up a moment later, Agrias wanted to crawl, hide, or otherwise, seek Ramza out. "Agrias, I know it is not my business. . ."
"You're our friend," Alicia put bluntly, cocking an eyebrow at the princess.
"Yes. . ." Ovelia agreed softly.
"We don't mean to guide what you feel, but we want you to be honest with yourself. We know you well enough to tell that you're-"
"Do you expect him to propose to me tonight?" Agrias said defensively, but her voice had a light-hearted tone in it. She felt that she could begin to be more open -to herself- about her state of relations with Ramza.
"I would favor it," Ovelia said with a mischievous smile.
As the two other females sat across Alicia and Agrias on another bench, the Holy Knight resigned herself to being the center of attention for tonight's entertainment. What she found truly amusing -and frightening- was that Ovelia was not kidding. (State wedding?) Agrias mused, shaking her heard as she gave a small laugh. "Whatever tomorrow brings," Agrias said out loud, feeling at ease.
***Author's Notes***
None really. Except that yeah, heavy emphasis on Agrias and Ramza interacting with other characters.
Yes, it was inevitable that the females of the group would finally confront Agrias about the topic.
On a side note. . . the story has finally broken 60,000 words. The pure, body-text version of it is that size, cutting out all of my commentary.
Expect me to go into more of what has been established/covered in this scene in the next one. Hopefully it won't be painful.
I'm really tenuous on my opinions about the last segment, where Alicia and Agrias finally talk about Ramza. Major questions:
How did I butcher the portrayals of the female characters?
Seriously, I'm thinking I did something wrong. . .
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
Nothing new to report.
***Readers' Response Corner***
Scene finished.
Not much else to comment on except that this chapter begins with a strong focus on Agrias and Ramza interacting first with each other, and then later on branches out to how they deal with others.
***Author's Notes***
Chapter 02-10 "Hit and Miss" (Chapter Two: The Manipulator and the Subservient, Scene 05)
Agrias had been surprised, losing her prized control of the situation as Ramza asked her to follow him and explore some of the castle with her.
"I have to take care of Ovelia. . ." she told him, knowing that she was just making up reasons to avoid what it was Ramza wanted to confront her with.
The steadfast way that Ramza simply waited for her to change her mind unnerved Agrias, who felt as if she was arguing with her conscience. (What are you doing here, away from her?) her mind accused her.
"I want to talk with you," Ramza told her, bringing forth in his forward, calm, and penetrating manner what he wanted, what they both feared, desired and anticipated. He knew her initial statement was an excuse, an escape.
"I can't Ramza. . ." Agrias hastily replied, making as if she would return to the baths, obviously to check back on Ovelia. "Don't ask me this."
Ramza had sat down at a table placed right next to a wall. To stop unnerving her, he didn't stare directly into her eyes, staring at a place on the wall near her, but not past her. What was the worst was that Agrias could tell that Ramza was beginning to hide the fact that he was uncomfortable as well. Uncomfortable did not define what he felt, and she knew it was disappointment, confusion and not a little bit of hurt. He was beginning to shield his actions, his emotion, in other words, he was beginning to close his heart. What upset Agrias was that Ramza thought he was doing this for her sake too, not just his.
(Its not that simple, but you could make better decisions,) Agrias thought, wondering what it was she would do. Agrias did not like the fact that in a way, Ramza was leaving everything up to her, implicating her with all of the responsibility, and in an extension, all the problems. As if it was all on her hands.
He turned his gaze to stare into her, and Agrias didn't know what to say as he told her simply. "That's," he began, stuttering, "that's all right." She could tell that Ramza forced himself to finish his statement with "I understand."
She expected him to leave now, but Ramza was not so melodramatic, even with him being basically being rejected. The boy had tenacity, Agrias tiredly acknowledged. Perseverant or hardheaded: the trait depended on how one was involved.
"Maybe sometime, Ramza?" she said weakly as she got ready to exit the room. Opening the door into the hallway, she looked back. (Rejected?) her mind threw at her, (Hardly! You lie to yourself. . .)
What disturbed was the way Ramza seemed unaffected now, never having fully lost his composure, but in that brief moment, he had put up his own defenses. Agrias didn't blame him for it. She too felt hurt by her own actions, but she felt that it was unfair of him to push her this way. (Doesn't he know he's forcing me to make a decision?)
(I don't want any of this. . .) she told herself, ignoring the way her inner voice growled at her.
"I would like that," he told her, the shields falling away for just a moment as she heard the casual anticipation in his voice, and the way his false façade lost its dull edge, a brief quirk of his mouth indicating a fantasizing smile.
(Stop that. . .) she thought, wishing she could tell him no. Not out of rejection: to push him way, but because he was affecting her too much, complicating her life more than it should be.
(Why can you never accept the simple answer?) Agrias' subconscious told her, jarring the Holy Knight. (Simple doesn't mean insincere, and it doesn't mean it's a lie.)
Taking a stand, Agrias turned around and peeked into their room. Though she knew it wasn't a solution, Agrias once again took the initiative. Being the aggressive one, the assertive one, the aware one, was something that Agrias drew comfort from. Being in command, having so many responsibilities, duties, and burdens had changed her, Agrias knew. It wasn't an admission that Agrias was fond of pondering.
"I know what you are asking me," Agrias told him as directly as she could, trying to lose the tone of command in her voice while she tried to convey the gravity of what she was trying to tell him. Agrias paused, doubt beginning to reclaim her mind again as she wondered what she would say next, knowing that she may have just pushed back too hard and too close to the subject at hand. Thinking back on what she shared with him, Agrias referred to one of those events. "Ask me another time. . ."
Agrias thought that was best. To say something else would be to risk him taking it the wrong way. The 'You're a nice guy. . .' speech was something males knew all too well as the death knell to any chance of them courting a female. (As much as he may be able to read into me,) Agrias thought, (I'm not leaving it to chance that he may think I'm driving him away.)
(Isn't that what you're doing?) a thought accused her.
Ramza smiled at her, and Agrias had to turn her head slowly back into the hallway. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she told him. She didn't know if he would still be in the room then, but she knew she felt uncomfortable around him right at this moment. Not that Agrias was afraid that he would leave in a tantrum, but that. . . that. . . (Argh!)
"Headache tonight?" Ramza called after her as she shut the door behind her.
The joked implication was something Agrias did not find funny, but frustrating as he switched from what she thought of as romantic -in the 'clueless and fearful of rejection' fashion, to humorous, with a naughty undertone.
On the other side of the door, Ramza blinked as he heard thumping. Curious, he immediately stood and up strode over an opened the portal. Even though he knew who it would be, Ramza realized exactly how the sound was produced. Ramza did not flinch as he stared into Agrias' exasperated façade at point-blank range, to the point where he could smell her breath; stale, yet warm and enticing to him. Politely, Ramza kept from breathing onto her, as he tracked his gaze upwards. Seeing, the reddish patch on Agrias' forehead where she must have struck herself against the door, creased in a frown, Ramza immediately regretted his repartee.
The cold bemusement that Ramza could see in Agrias' eyes almost set utter terror upon Ramza. It would have, had he not seen the slight smirk that Agrias masked with her angry expression. It wasn't terror he felt, but he was anxious as to what she would do in retaliation. Yet, he found it worthwhile, feeling that whatever coin she would demand, he would accept gladly.
Her expression turning blasé, Agrias leaned in to Ramza, but she lost her nonchalant edge as Ramza did not retreat, but calmly stood his ground, expecting what it was she would do. To draw an effect from him, Agrias uttered a small moan, one of discomfort that transformed into a sultry purr. "Sorry honey," she purred, utterly enjoying the way Ramza was taken off-guard. Leaving Ramza stunned, Agrias turned and walked away from him in the route that lead to the baths, taking care to put more emphasis into the sway of her hips as she calmly paced away.
As an afterthought, Agrias shook her head, making her hair shift behind her, locks clung together by the bathing water separating, creating a billowy shroud for a moment. The mewl she added was simply too cruel.
***
Ramza did not stay in the room after Agrias had left. Walking in the other direction from the baths, Ramza found and asked one of the castle's civilian staff for some food. He found the man making the rounds, inspecting the empty chambers in what Ramza assumed to be the guest quarters.
The steward was apprehensive and very curious about what Ramza would need, since it was known that Princess Ovelia was visiting the castle, and that this boy -Ramza- in front of him was one of her guards.
"Something plain - for all of us," Ramza told him.
"Are you sure, sir?" the older man addressed Ramza, dubious but polite.
Ramza answered the question that the steward must have been thinking. "Her highness enjoys solidarity with her subjects. She would prefer dining with her us."
Rumors had been circulating within the castle about the princess even before she had arrived. The cardinal had never been one for secrets, and word of the 'state visit' spread through the denizens of Lionel Castle. Seeing the state of her guards, worn out from being in the field, only fanned the flames of gossip.
To Ramza, the steward was probably already adding this encounter with one of Ovelia's 'entourage' to the pool of intrigue. "Ah. . . of course. If you'll come with me to the kitchen, you can select which dishes you would like for us to take to your room. If you want, there's almost always a cook on duty-"
"No need for special treatment," Ramza interrupted him. "So long as it can warm and fill a belly, it is enough."
Apprehensively, the steward politely acquiesced. "If you'll follow me sir, the kitchens are this way." Wanting to ask about the nature of the princess' visit, but too indoctrinated into his role, the steward fell back to idle, though welcome, chatter. "Let's find something for you to eat."
Allowing the servant a small lead, Ramza tailed behind, taking time to examine the hallway covered in stone and reinforced by wooden frames above in the ceiling. No matter how cozy the environment tried to be, even with vibrant tapestries and sometimes small tables with knick-knacks on them, Ramza never felt at home within a castle.
He had always seen these places for what they are. A stronghold, a place meant to withstand attack. A place where one radiated power, and the surrounding area was at their fiat. Having grown up in Igros Castle, Ramza had learned as he grew up just how much power the nobles wielded, and how much of that power they spent to hold onto what influence and affluence they possessed.
Though security was not a question when it came to castles, Ramza never found comfort within them.
Blinking, Ramza interrupted his thoughts, noticing the steward beginning to walk down one of the spiral series of stone steps that traveled through the levels of the castle. He wondered why he was beginning to feel nostalgia.
He didn't have much success as he traveled down the counter-clockwise spiral. Even the stairway had martial functions. Most people were right- handed, and in ascending such a staircase, would have to fight uphill with their right arc against the stairpost, while the defenders above could sweep down upon them.
Ramza wondered if there were any other reasons why he felt so unsettled.
(It can't be her. . .) Ramza reasoned, attempting to find what else it was that was bothering him.
***
The familiar smell of the spit, sauces and the salty smell of cooked meat let Ramza know they were near. The steward had only wanted to talk of the 'mystery' behind Ovelia and her arrival, and Ramza thought there was no reason that people should know of this.
The heat was the second indicator as Ramza stepped into the kitchen's main chamber. If it wasn't for the tables strewn with ingredients, in- progress meals, and the finished products, the scene could have been mistaken for a forge. On one side of the wall was a series of cooking spits arranged in a row where the furnaces would've been.
"Phillip," a man clad in a smudged and stained smock -which had once been white- hailed Ramza's guide. "What can I do for you?"
"Princess' Ovelia's. . ." the steward paused, trying to think of how to address Ramza. He coughed to clear his voice to mask his hesitation. "Her Highness' warrior is here to select her and her entourage's meal."
Ramza could see the cook began to get frustrated. "Without any notice?" the cook grumbled, his heat-reddened face in a frown.
The steward shrugged, showing to his friend that he was just as lost. "Kevin, Her Highness wants a simple meal, one that she can share with. . ." the steward paused again, "them. . ." he finished, unable to find the term.
The cook blinked. "Oh well. Guess they're too exhausted from that skirmish to have dinner with the Cardinal tonight." Remembering that Ramza was there, the tall and broad-shouldered cook paused, knowing he had just committed a faux pas. The man looked fat, but as he moved, one could see the mass of muscle flex and stretch.
"Something like that," Ramza said tiredly. While he knew he shouldn't have said anything to confirm or deny whatever rumors were floating around, Ramza also thought that intimidating others wasn't the solution to that problem.
"Sorry, sir," Phillip began, finally addressing what he had wanted to ask. His friend had already let the Couar out of the bag, so to speak. "There's been a report involving mercenaries making an attempt on the princess' life."
Even though Ramza knew that the man referred to today's slaughter, he still thought back to how the group that he had 'belonged' in had betrayed the princess. Ramza had his own thoughts as to how Goltana and Larg, rivals for the realm both, were involved in this act of treason. With the resources that both wielded, it could be classified as a coup -or more appropriately: civil war.
Between those two, Ivalice would be divided. (Except for the Church. . .) Ramza pondered.
"No," Ramza told them, knowing it would stir up even more controversy, but it would also deflect from Ovelia. "They were after someone that the princess had placed under her protection."
"Oh. . ." Kevin remarked, drawling the word out, as if trying to understand the question even as he replied. It was analogous to a student eagerly raising his hand to report before he had finished finding the answer.
"The other young man with you?" the steward asked.
Other servants had begun to come near as well. Several of the mess- boys were beginning to clean up the preparatory tables around the fallen, the steward, and the cook. A woman hauling in a group of steins in either hand dropped them roughly onto the table Where the cook was tall and massive, she was short and stout, having mud-black hair and a slightly darker skin tone.
"You mean the curious little boy in yellow and blue?" she jumped into their conversation with a cynical tone.
"We have company, wife," the cook said tiredly.
"Yes, we do, dinnae we?" she replied in her highland accent. The sarcasm in her reply held no venom, only exasperation. "I have one of them following me now."
"The stomach rules all," the cook joked.
"Aye, dear," his wife told him, turning around and looking for the young man supposed to be following her. "Now where'd that laddie go?"
"What do you mean, wasn't he following you?" the steward asked.
"Don't worry," Ramza said. "Like your. . ." he hesitated as he looked at the woman, "husband," another pause as she nodded at him, standing by the cook to show he wasn't assuming anything, "said, his stomach will bring him here."
"Everyone," she spat out. "You mean men."
Wisely, none of the males spoke up.
***
"Have you found a place to spend the night?" Ramza asked Mustadio was lead into the kitchen. Some of the mess-boys and cauldron-girls had been searching for the young man, and one of the girls -a woman wearing yellows and greens- had retrieved him.
"Took me a while," the engineer quipped, "but they found me a bunk
"And you say its us," the cook's wife cut in, "that have problems with getting lost."
Ramza and Phillip could only give helpless expressions as the cook was henpecked.
"We all do," Ramza said, in his way trying to disarm the friendly argument. Sometimes, even playful conflict could turn serious.
"I remember when you first came here, Kim," Phillip remarked jovially. "You always tagged along with one of the others everywhere you went for fear of being - ow!" Phillip cried out as she stepped on his foot as she left to drop off the steins somewhere else to be cleaned.
"My name is 'Kimberly' first of all. I'll leave you here to fill yer' bellies," she told them all. "I still have to tend to those damn drunk soldier-laddies up in the mess," she grumbled.
Ramza chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he remembered. "Some of the cadets had that problem," he told them. "Which is why all the squad leaders 'happened' to not notice whenever the serving. . ." Ramza paused, giving the woman a small smile, "lassies," he continued, "spilled hot soup on them every now and then."
"Dearie. . ." the woman said, her tone softening as she leaned in towards him. "Are you trying to make my heart a flutter?" Ramza just shrugged, giving her an ambiguous reply with his body. The pleasant and calm expression on his face could mean either affirmative or negative, leaving the decision to the onlooker. "If I was just a few years younger," she countered, grinning as she noticed her husband's jaw drop. "Tell me," she began in her normal tone, "were you one of these ruffians or one of these bonnie leaders?"
"Both," Ramza remarked to Karen, and to her credit, she wasn't surprised, simply understanding what Ramza told her. "I was different then."
"You protect the princess, right?" the cook asked. "You a mercenary?"
"Kevin. . ." the steward tried to warn his friend that he was being too forward, asking what wasn't his business.
"I graduated from Gariland Magic Academy," Ramza told them. "Its not just mages that train there," Ramza told them. "It became more martial because of the war," Ramza explained, noticing that he had begun to gesture with his hands as he talked. "It became the feeding school for cadets training to be Hokuten. Before, the force was all local militia or transfers from other units."
"You were Hokuten?" Kimberly asked, "What happened to you?"
"I failed," Ramza told them. "I didn't know it, but I was caught between my duty and my conscience."
"Well, what did you do then?" Mustadio came into the conversation. He was curious, and he hated being silent in a conversation, even if what he said made things worse for him.
"Nothing. I didn't even make a choice. I failed at both." Ramza wondered what else he would tell them. Generalities were evasions in their own way.
"That's a lesson more should learn without having to experience it," Kimberly told him sympathetically. "Pardon my rudeness, sir. . ."
"Ramza," he told Kim his name.
Kimberly grunted, "Well, I'm going to be taking some 'soup' to those soldiers now." She turned and gave Mustadio a dubious look. "Try not to get yourself into trouble."
"Good luck," Mustadio called after her
"You'll need it more than me!" Kimberly called back.
Ramza chuckled as the woman walked away, and he gave a curious look towards Kevin. "You're a lucky man."
Kevin shook his head. "You're the only one that thinks so."
"Wait till she hears that," Phillip told him.
"She already knows, right?" Mustadio piped up.
Kevin just turned his back on them. "Pick out what you need and be done with it. Humiliating me is not part of the dinner package."
"Entertainment helps the appetite," Mustadio continued in a jocular tone.
Ramza only sighed as Kevin growled, backing up before turning around, brining his bulk to intimidate the young man. "Under the princess' protection or not, laddie, there are two ways I can get your next meal into your stomach. Down your throat or up the nether passage."
"Still, you care for her. . ." Ramza stated, not trying to defuse the situation so much as probing for what the large man really thought.
"Don't let her know that," Kevin stated gruffly as he let Mustadio back away; the boy had found a new interest in the portions of different foods spread around the tables.
"Give it up, sir," Phillip said snidely, "The more you think about it, the more confused you are."
"Love isn't logic. . ." Ramza murmured, growing distracted as he saw the steward staring past the other men he was with; Phillip's gaze towards one of the cooking fires, looking at a smoke-grimed girl dressed in browns and grays tend to the spit where a couar roasted. "Sometimes. . ." Ramza continued, talking to himself, "you have to accept that." Looking at how his comment, overheard by Phillip, caused the steward to wince as the man stared at the girl by the fire, Ramza chose to let the subject go.
***
Padding down the hallway, Agrias wondered what it was she would do. To accept, to embrace, or to push away, to reject. "I'm attracted to him. . ." she said softly out loud as she walked, making sure to hop between carpet to carpet, hating the cold stone floor.
The closer she got to the women's bath, the more worried Agrias grew. (Tactical retreat?) she mused.
(A siege. . .) she replied to herself. The fact that Ramza desired her in return wasn't something she could deny now. It was flattering, but beyond that superficial reaction, it was frightening. Someone, another human being, wanted her out of something more than base lust.
Not simply to lay claim to her body, but to her heart.
"I want Ramza. . ." Agrias admitted, finding that open confession to herself oddly relaxing, "but do I need him?"
When Alicia stepped out of the women's bath, clothed in a pale olive blouse and a faded saffron skirt, the irritated expression on her subordinate's face let Agrias know she had been heard.
Taken aback, Agrias was caught off-guard. Both knights, each clad in thin cloth instead of armor, faced each other off. Alicia spoke first in a tone that lacked none of her characteristic humor, annoyance, or childishness. "Lavian is with the princess," she told Agrias, before changing the subject. "As a friend, we need to talk about what you are doing -what you will be," Alicia interrupted herself, "doing with Ramza."
Agrias knew Alicia well enough that if she was willing to breach protocol to this extent, there would be no deterring her from having that discussion, insubordination or not. "What do you wish to know?"
The smartcrack did not come.
"That," Alicia said annoyed, as she lead Agrias to a room across the women's bath, a collecting gathering area filled with benches, a place to lounge before and after ablutions. "Why do you act like that when it comes to him?"
Agrias had answers, but none of them was something she wanted to share, even with herself.
***
"I know I'm overstepping my bounds," Alicia remarked as Agrias gave a hard stare past her, at the stone wall where they sat against the side of the room with the door.
"Why do you want to know?" Agrias asked back.
Alicia ignored that. "If you think you're choosing your job," Alicia said solidly, "over your emotions, you're only fooling yourself. You're almost forsaken your duty outright once or twice. You've certainly violated the spirit of it. . . I never thought I'd see the day you'd skirt by on the letter of things." Seeing Agrias turn her gaze towards her, Alicia was only encouraged by her provocation. "You think he's a distraction, don't you?" Alicia bluntly stated.
"Yes," Agrias replied. It was the honest answer, but she felt guilty by saying it in that way.
"I'm not saying that he isn't anything to you then," Alicia gritted out, frustrated. "But why do you put him down like this? You don't just feel lust for him, this is affecting you too much."
"What if it is just that base emotion?" Agrias coldly tossed back, feeling that she was digging herself deeper, her defensive answers only serving to push her farther away from what she really thought.
Alicia grew subdued, as if she was resigned. People like her did not get boisterous when infuriated, but they quiet, all the energy that mirrored their spirit being hidden, focused. When she spoke, her voice was serious and clipped. "In the years I served under you, I've gotten to know you. I've learned things about you. You're good at hiding some things, but you're so inexperienced," Alicia pointed out, "in this 'game,' that you didn't even know better to hide when a man fascinated you."
Agrias felt the beginnings of a migraine form.
When Alicia smirked, it was followed by a small chuckle. "I've seen you want men before." Agrias knew that to deny that was pointless. "The way you seemed drawn to them, the way you looked after them. . ."
"What's your point," Agrias interrupted her. She knew that Alicia was most likely telling the truth from her perspective.
"You never thought of them after seeing them a few times," Alicia said carefully, as if stating an argument. "The idea of Ramza gets into," Alicia said in a insinuating tone, a bit of friendliness beginning to show, "you even when he's not there."
"You found that special," Agrias remarked dryly.
"I hear its called an 'epiphany,'" Alicia mocked, "but to me, its 'the stupid finally seeing what's always been there.'"
Alicia's anger was beginning to fade by the way she was beginning to look more relaxed.
"What I see is, that boy's affecting you in a way I've never seen before." Alicia smiled as she moved in for the kill, lying back on the stone bench she and Agrias shared. "I can see that he happens to ring your bell," she quipped, "you look the same as when some yummy stud fresh from working in the fields, all sweaty and tired got near us. . . mm-mm-mm!"
"Yes. . ." Agrias drawled out. "Are you just going to continue torturing me?"
"Until you realize that lov-" Alicia caught herself, "liking Ramza isn't something for you to be ashamed of." She poked Agrias in the side with the toes on her left foot. "At least I'm not worried about you so much."
Agrias just gave her an uncomprehending glance as Alicia craned her head upwards to deliver a lecherous smirk.
"I was beginning to think the man who'd make you a woman was only a myth," Alicia remarked dryly.
Feeling the conversation turn lighter, Agrias followed the thread, interested. "A myth?" She took a breath. "To tell the truth," Agrias said, knowing that her statement would reveal nothing knew to someone who knew her as long as Alicia had, "I never planned on getting married. . ." Agrias withheld a sigh that accompanied the melancholy and resigned loneliness that accompanied that thought.
"Mm?" Alicia hummed, sitting up to face Agrias. "I don't remember bringing up the topic of marriage."
Agrias froze as Alicia broadsided her with her own words.
"I. . ." Agrias stuttered, "I meant that. . ."
"Stop denying it. You should feel pride, not shame." Alicia let out a frustrated sigh. "I know I'm probably only giving you second thoughts as to any chance of you being with him, but dammit boss!" she cried. "What's so wrong? You care for him, and I've seen and felt," Alicia emphasized, "that he's interested in you more than just what men chase us for. He's not the Adonis, but he's as close to the perfect man for you as God created. In case you haven't noticed," Alicia said sardonically, "you can't marry St. Ajora. You're a knight, not a nun!"
"With what we do for a living. . ." Agrias countered.
Alicia's retort was in a theatric tone that mocked Agrias' voice by imitation. "Ah, the tragic ballad of the knight and her mercenary. . . either may die any day. . . and to love would only mean to be hurt the other all the more when one of them dies! Oh, cruel world!" Alicia let out a derisive snort. "Why deny both of yourselves happiness?" Alicia tossed back. "You're doing what you can to make the world a better place, but you can' hold it up all by yourself. You're a soldier, not a clergywoman. Discipline not self-denial." she pointed out. "You've almost died so many times that you're sense of mortality is more acute than anyone else's. Meaning, you're more desperate to live, and to enjoy what little bit of life that you can." Agrias knew she was caught trying to run away. "I remember you thinking others cowards when they pulled that same '
Agrias remembered why many people couldn't hold a conversation of a serious nature with Alicia. The feisty chemist-knight's personality enabled her to switch from angry to amused and back again, and all throughout Alicia was aggressive, simply forward and intolerant of deceit, denial, or diversion in discussions. In other words, while she appeared to be a clown, Alicia also put more weight in her chats. "You lured me into this, didn't you?"
"I will confess to that" Lavian's calm voice spoke.
(Why is it that when others bring it up, I find liking. . .) Agrias grunted at the headache that thought caused, (. . . loving him so much easier to accept.)
When Ovelia spoke up a moment later, Agrias wanted to crawl, hide, or otherwise, seek Ramza out. "Agrias, I know it is not my business. . ."
"You're our friend," Alicia put bluntly, cocking an eyebrow at the princess.
"Yes. . ." Ovelia agreed softly.
"We don't mean to guide what you feel, but we want you to be honest with yourself. We know you well enough to tell that you're-"
"Do you expect him to propose to me tonight?" Agrias said defensively, but her voice had a light-hearted tone in it. She felt that she could begin to be more open -to herself- about her state of relations with Ramza.
"I would favor it," Ovelia said with a mischievous smile.
As the two other females sat across Alicia and Agrias on another bench, the Holy Knight resigned herself to being the center of attention for tonight's entertainment. What she found truly amusing -and frightening- was that Ovelia was not kidding. (State wedding?) Agrias mused, shaking her heard as she gave a small laugh. "Whatever tomorrow brings," Agrias said out loud, feeling at ease.
***Author's Notes***
None really. Except that yeah, heavy emphasis on Agrias and Ramza interacting with other characters.
Yes, it was inevitable that the females of the group would finally confront Agrias about the topic.
On a side note. . . the story has finally broken 60,000 words. The pure, body-text version of it is that size, cutting out all of my commentary.
Expect me to go into more of what has been established/covered in this scene in the next one. Hopefully it won't be painful.
I'm really tenuous on my opinions about the last segment, where Alicia and Agrias finally talk about Ramza. Major questions:
How did I butcher the portrayals of the female characters?
Seriously, I'm thinking I did something wrong. . .
***Author's Notes***
***Readers' Response Corner***
Nothing new to report.
***Readers' Response Corner***