15th of March, M.E. 755
Dinner was exhausting. And yet, I cannot possibly sleep. What my uncle said to me this evening has my brain in a perpetual state of hyperactivity.
[FLASHBACK]
"Lemon?"
Ignis finished placing the plate before his uncle and sat down hesitantly. "Yes. Thought I'd try something different. Does it not meet with your approval?"
"No, no, it's not that, m'boy. It's just that you've never made anything quite so…" His hands gestured as if he were juggling or weighing something. "…cheerful."
"Whatever do you mean?"
His uncle folded his napkin neatly and set it aside as he pushed the dessert away. Ignis looked on in dismay. He had certainly put his efforts into preparing the dessert for his uncle's birthday. It was a shame that he didn't seem keen on it. His uncle crossed his arms on the table. "Well, I don't mean to offend you, but you've never been a ray of sunshine."
Now he was being insulted? "What are you saying, Uncle? I'm quite cheerful."
"Since when? I think the last I saw you smile, you were a baby. And it wasn't an actual smile. It was a grimace whilst you soiled your diaper."
Ignis sighed, tossing his own napkin onto the table in a careless wad. "If you don't care for the dessert, I'll make one more to your liking." He went to stand, reaching for the plates. "I'll only need a few minutes in the kitchen—"
"No. No, that's not it." He reached out and squeezed his forearm comfortingly, motioning for him to sit. Ignis obliged hesitantly. "You've become an excellent cook as of late. I'm sure it's superb. I only want to talk, that's all."
The younger eyed his companion warily as he settled back into his chair.
"I'm simply asking if this could be a symbolism of sorts? A clue, perhaps. As to your state of mind?"
There was no concealing his confusion. "I'm afraid I'm not following."
"Your entire life, you've been unbelievably broody. Even on happy occasions, you make heavy, rich desserts. It's as if you're pouring all your angst into a bowl and willing it to turn to something delightful. It's always something decadent, rich. The sort of thing people crave when they will themselves to relax, to forget, or to ease their minds. This—" he gestured at his plate, "is a celebration. You're light-hearted. I can tell."
Ignis stared at him for a moment before blinking, completely bewildered. "It's a dessert, Uncle. I've always had a sweet tooth, and decadent desserts pair well with something as bitter as Ebony. I've simply come up with a new recipe. That's it."
"No, no, no."
He sighed and sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. His Uncle's new favorite word, it seemed. It was going to be quite the evening.
"You see, it's not just the dessert, Ignis. You've changed your attire."
Ignis glanced down at his dark red shirt. "I'm attempting color. I can't be expected to wear white shirts every day of my life, can I? I've already aged myself far beyond my years."
"You've also changed your hair style."
"I wore it like this when I was younger," he replied defensively.
"Not like that, you didn't. Don't you see? You're far from the stiff plaster you used to be."
He rubbed his forehead. "Am I meant to be complimented? It feels a bit back-handed, if I'm honest."
He chuckled at his nephew. "Don't think I don't know what the cause is."
"Extra sleep?" Ignis retorted flippantly.
"Your assistant."
At first, it seemed a very valid point. Aleya had taken on quite the burden, and they got along very well. For once, it was quite pleasant to have someone to speak with about problems with the young Prince, the bad suggestions of the Senators, the drudgery and freneticism of unreasonable deadlines and emergency meetings, and the exhaustion of long training sessions. After all, she could empathize. She had done it all as well, right alongside him. "Yes, she's been invaluable to me," he conceded. "I doubt I could have found anyone else to perform the job with even half of her capability."
His uncle chuckled again. He apparently found the conversation amusing. "Ignis, m'boy, you are the smartest man I know. And yet, even you have your blind spots."
"Pardon?"
"I'm not talking about her capability as your assistant—her blasted job performance!" Suddenly his Uncle's good mood had turned afoul, betraying impatience. "How dim-witted could you possibly be?"
He was beyond shocked at the insult. He? Dimwitted? That was akin to calling Gladio a sniveling weakling. "Uncle!"
"Well, it's true lad. I'm sorry." By now, Uncle was almost sputtering, completely aghast. "Do you not see it?"
The younger Scientia opened his mouth to reply, but didn't get a chance. His senior cut him off again.
"I certainly do! I've seen you two working together. She's either two steps behind you—head down, all business—or she's at your side, in perfect step. When you're in a hurry, and handling a serious matter, the two of you work in immaculate tandem. You don't even have to turn around. She's there, passing you files you didn't even know you would need. She'll hand you your glasses, your documents, your gym equipment, your snacks, your bloody Ebony…"
He was stupefied at his relative's behavior. He had never seen him this way, before. He was actually trying to determine if he should bundle up his Uncle and take him to the nearest clinic. Before he could remind him to mind his hypertension, he still continued on. In so doing, a remarkable transformation occurred. He became less animated and irate, and became rather whimsical and pleasant.
"…And when you are not busy—in those calm and quiet moments when you have the time to speak together—why, I've never seen you so jovial."
Ignis stared back at him. He felt suddenly curious about what his Uncle was getting at, but at the same time, desperately paranoid of the path it was going to take. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to see himself through his Uncle's observations, or if he wished to clear the dishes and pretend he didn't understand where the conversation was going in the first place. Why hadn't he just made the man a cake? All of this started over one lemon tart.
"Your eyes light up when they land upon her."
Now it was decided. He wanted to switch his ears off. Relationships were a distraction; Mayhem swirled in a pretty bow of ambiguity. He had no time for such things, nor the patience for it. He crossed his arms, ill-tempered. "Most likely the glint in my lenses. Nothing more."
His uncle's face became stern. "Ignis Stupeo Scientia, I have raised you since your father died. I have cared for you as my own son. There is no one in all of Eos who knows you better than I. And I know when you are hiding."
"Hiding." It came out as a statement rather than a question. What had he gotten himself into?
"You are always stiff and formal. But when you and she think you are alone, your shoulders fall, your arms loosen, your jaw relaxes. You even take off your glasses and slouch a bit. And my dear lad, you smile. Nearly every time. I've seen you smile more often in these last two years than I've ever seen you smile in the entirety of your life."
Now he would have to be on defense. "That's not true. Noct and I are close. We played as children. We have poker nights with our friends. We visit the movies on occasion. I've been known to be witty."
His Uncle looked frustrated. He sighed. "Yes, but he is our Prince. You may love him as a younger brother, but you never lose that sense of obligation. But with our Aleya, you just relax. I've never seen you so calm."
He raised an eyebrow. "Our Aleya?"
"Well, she was mine before she was yours. Just if you've forgotten."
His uncle was referring, of course, to her employment. He shrugged and took a sip of his water. If his relative was expecting an apology, he would have to disappoint him. He wasn't giving her back.
"Who dashed out to fetch her from a traffic accident, half-naked?"
Ignis did a double-take, appalled. "I was fully clothed!" He snapped. "Just a bit unkempt. Would you have taken the time to tuck in your shirt or fasten your tie in those circumstances?"
He ignored his rebuttal. "I watched you go pale every time she went for combat training."
"She had no idea what she was getting into. I'm loathe to see a woman be hurt."
"You yelled at your closest friend because you thought he had harmed her."
"He gets carried away under the very best of circumstances, and she has not an inch of his experience.
I was only trying to keep an innocent girl out of harm's way."
"Is that what you were doing in the floor of your office a few weeks hence? Keeping her out of harm's way?"
"She fell and hit her head. Best for you not to read too much into it."
"And at the Founder's Day Festival?" His words were quiet, nearly coaxing. Ignis paused for a moment, remembering that champagne silhouette and how he had led her about the dance floor. He lifted his gaze, meeting his Uncle's. "You should have seen the way you looked at her, son. If you say you felt nothing, I would be quite disappointed to say I helped rear a liar."
A long silence filled the room as they stared at each other. The young retainer wanted to be angry. He wanted to get up and storm out before they spoke of this subject any further. However, he was never the type to act on pure emotion. He had spent his entire life in the company of those that gave the appearance of cool confidence and composure. It was a vital quality to hold one's wit, especially if he planned to exceed in service to the Royal Family. Furthermore, he did indeed owe his uncle much. It would be entirely disgraceful of him to wrong his family in any way; Even more true considering his uncle was the only blood relation he had left. Therefore, he had little choice but to speak the truth. He finally gave in to his uncle's dogged gaze and sighed. "Very well. I admit I am somewhat attracted to her."
His Uncle looked beyond delighted at his confession.
"However, it's nothing worth getting your hopes up for. It will not advance to anything warranting your attention. I have a great deal of responsibility, and I cannot afford to be distracted by fanciful intimacies. There are other more pressing matters to attend to."
"I see. Dating, relationships, marriage and family—those things would hinder your royal duties."
"Precisely."
"Mmm. But she doesn't appear to distract you now."
He set his elbows on the table and laced his fingers into a steepled position. "Of course not. I won't allow it."
"Ah, but you're keen on her. Tell me Ignis, does she currently hinder your work?"
"No."
He nodded, sitting back in his chair thoughtfully. "That is true. You seem to have matters well in hand. You're at every meeting in top form. You're at His Highness' side in earnest, you've managed his finances, health, activities, leisure, and royal duties. All of this without forgetting your dry cleaning or missing even one sip of your beloved Ebony."
"Well, I…" Ignis began, pleased with himself, basking in his uncle's praise.
"And not a speck of dust on you too, for that young lady is always brushing off any particulate that may dare float your direction. Perhaps you remember what it was like before hiring an assistant? You were always fearful of forgetting a date, of double-booking an engagement, leaving a critical document, or something of the sort. You slept half the time a healthy man should."
"I recall."
"And yet, though your duties have increased, you've improved. You've taken on more. You're given the time to be clear-headed and precise. Incidentally, you are doing such a stellar job despite the fact that your thoughts are constantly drifting away."
He frowned, soured. "Whatever do you mean? I am beyond diligent towards my duties. My thoughts are centered on the task at hand."
His uncle leaned forward. "Don't you see, lad? She's not a hinderance. If she is a distraction to you—which she is, I'd wager—She is a very welcome one. Though you no doubt think of her often, you've only improved in your obligations. Ignis- A good woman like her will not hinder you. She will improve you."
The royal retainer furrowed his brow; A quizzical stare. He never claimed to have experience with women. As to the feminine gender, he was completely at a loss.
"Take it from a man who knows. I was tied to my duties as well. I too, had a young lady that caught my eye. Her name was Renei. She was a beautiful young woman with a kind spirit, and a fire in her eyes. She was stronger than any man I knew, and yet so very delicate. She smelled like summer rain. I loved everything about her: her smile, her laugh, her temper, the way she walked. I could tell right away if her mood had changed, and I worried for her constantly."
He couldn't hide his curiosity. His uncle had never had a love interest, that he was aware of. And if he had, he had hidden it quite well. "What happened?"
"I was so tied up in my duties, I felt like I didn't have time. I figured we would eventually court, and then marry. But I wished to postpone such things until our lives became more stable. Sadly, that day never came. She was Queen Aulea's personal attendant. When the Queen took ill after giving birth, Renei did as well, soon after. She died two days later."
The story was heart-wrenchingly appalling. Ignis wasn't sure what to say to him. He sat in speechless silence, watching his uncle's face turn dark with grief over the woman he had lost decades ago.
He looked up at his nephew solemnly. "Waiting gets you nothing but regrets. Now, not all women's tales end so tragically. In your case, Aleya's most likely to leave once Noct ascends the throne."
Ignis' face registered momentary alarm as his pulse began to quicken. "I've no inkling she intends to leave. She quite clearly has told me she would not."
"Her heart is set to be in Altissia, is it not? I felt sure you would know. She's no reason to stay here."
No. That couldn't possibly be true. Aleya had said that she would never leave. On the other hand, he had known for a long time that her father had always meant her to be an academic great, with his sights set on Altissia. She had herself spoken in great reverence about the various academies and careers awaiting the intellectually advanced of the world. Perhaps there was a chance she could leave. "I don't think…"
"Know this, young man. Taking action leaves no room for regrets. Win or lose, you have the satisfaction of at least knowing you did something. Whereas sitting idle—believe me—only leaves you with remorse."
The words sank like a stone, and the room went still for several moments.
His uncle nodded curtly. "That is all I will say. You're a smart lad, you'll figure it out." He clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms in anticipation. "Now! Let's dig in to this delightful concoction you've made, shall we? I'm sure you've put your heart in it." He winked at his nephew as he picked up his fork to eat.
[Back to Entry]
I ate it, but I have no idea what it tasted like. Uncle says it was grand. Although he may have been apologizing for lecturing me so; One can never tell.
I kept pondering on our conversation. I must admit I am somewhat confused. Before this evening, all of my choices seemed so simple, all lines and edges neatly corned and squared away. Why must my Uncle cast such concern upon me? I fear I'll never sleep.
21st of March, M.E. 755
The day of the King's birth seemed a bit lack luster this year. Oh, it was still grand, to be sure; There was the obligatory gathering of the statesmen, Senators, Counselors, and their families to commemorate the occasion. The people outside the Citadel will have their customary week-long celebration, and the King will attend various events throughout.
However, he asked to spend the day quietly with Noctis. I wasn't invited. Can't say I'm not at least a touch offended, considering how close I am to the royal family. I do realize, though, that it was not my place. If the King wishes to spend the day bonding with his son, he certainly has the right.
Noct seems to have enjoyed himself. A bit of the scowling angst had washed away by the time I met up with him this evening, prior to the festival. (I'm obliged to mention it returned before the gala was over.) In any case, I think it did him a bit of good. Would they were able to spend time together more frequently…
On a side note, I invited Aleya. She, of course, declined. She seems to be distancing herself again. Not that it's not for the best. I find myself oddly distracted when she's around too often. Best to keep work as work. And then, perhaps my uncle will find someone else to marry off.
22nd of March, M.E. 755
[FLASHBACK]
Ignis threw his last dagger towards Gladio. Just as the dagger was sure to pierce his shoulder, Gladio swung his large sword, grunting with the effort of moving so quickly with such a heavy weapon. Ignis, who had already been moving towards Gladio for a blindside attack, saw the dagger ricochet towards him; He quickly back-flipped. Upon landing on his feet, he twisted and retrieved his dagger from mid-air. Prompto slid past his feet, skidding towards Noct as he shot a few blanks at the Kings's Sworn Shield. Gladio twisted away as Noct hauled Prompto to his feet by one arm. Then he and Ignis jumped together and somersaulted in mid-air, landing consecutive blows against Gladio's outstretched two-handed sword.
"Nice!" Noct shouted as they landed, bouncing on their heels.
"Time out!" Prompto called, obviously out of breath. "Seriously, guys, I'm outclassed here."
"Yeah, you are. But we'll keep you anyway," Noct grinned at him cheekily.
They were all dripping with sweat. For the first time since Aleya had met any of them, their hair was out of place, plastered to their skin in damp streaks. Gladio stretched, Ignis checked over his daggers for any wear and tear, Noctis and Prompto doubled over, panting. She stood and applauded. It was the first time they had noticed her there, and 3 of the 4 seemed startled—especially Ignis.
Prompto jumped in an exaggerated fashion. "Hey, Allie. Didn't even see you there."
Ignis shot Prompto a surprised and somewhat irritated stare at the abbreviation of her name.
"Sorry to drop in unannounced. Just finished up with a little practice and saw you all here. Thought I'd be nosy and snoop a bit. You guys are amazing." She walked towards them, a couple of towels tucked over her forearm.
"Really? 'Ya think so?" Prompto excitedly asked.
She grinned at him. "Of course. Especially you, Prompty. You're scrappy."
Prompto flushed immediately. "Scrappy? I—I guess I'll take that as a compliment."
She turned her attention to Noct. "Slick moves, Your Highness."
"Yeah, they are." He tossed her a sarcastic smirk.
Gladio stepped close to her, too close for Ignis' liking. He visibly stiffened as Gladio came so near that he brushed her shoulder with his side. "What? No compliments for the big guy?" He asked.
To Ignis' utter dismay, she wrapped an arm around Gladio and gave him a quick embrace. "Good job, big guy. Now take care of that big smell." She stepped away pinching her nose slightly with a grin.
Noct and Prompto laughed while Ignis still stood stalk still, watching her, wondering if his scent was something less to be desired as well after practicing combat for so long.
She moved towards Noctis, stepping between he and Prompto's position and Ignis' position, and handed him a towel. "Your Highness. Here you go. There's a bottle of water over at the bench if you'd like."
"I'll take a towel, too!" Prompto cheered, stepping towards her.
She took a large step back and bumped into Ignis' shoulder. They both turned to each other for a split second before Ignis backed away slightly, conscious of her last comment towards Gladio. With a generous, soft smile, she handed Ignis the towel. "For you."
"Aw, man!" Prompto cried. "Why does Iggy get the towel?"
"Because Ignis is the boss," she answered him. "I take care of the guy who takes care of me."
"What about Noct?" He complained. They all watched him for a moment before he flushed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Oh, well, yeah. I guess that's kind of obvious. Prince and all…."
She tapped him in the shoulder with her knuckles. "How about I treat you to ice cream when I get off of work?"
Ignis looked up sharply as he mopped the nape of his neck with the towel she had provided him.
Prompto cheered immediately. "Really? You serious?"
"I never lie about ice cream." She grinned at him. "Go clean yourself up."
He saluted her. "Yes, ma'am! Come on, Noct!"
Noct followed him, complaining. "Why would I want to follow you to the shower?"
Gladio tagged along, trailing behind him. "I think it's a good idea if you do. Your stench is higher than your position."
"You want to say that again?" Noctis challenged.
Gladio shrugged. "Sure."
They went on like that until exiting the gymnasium. Aleya laughed softly as she watched them leave. Ignis found himself staring. Since the conversation with his uncle about a week prior, he had found himself watching her more often. It wasn't that he was so keenly aware of her mannerisms so much as his own. He had begun examining his own actions and feelings when he was around her—a self-evaluation of sorts—to see if there was any merit to his uncle's words. Right now, for example, as he watched her laugh, he tried to determine what he felt. There was no denying the slight curl of the left side of his lip at seeing her happy. That curl threatened to turn into a sideways grin. His eyes traveled to her bare shoulder instinctively, before he realized it. His eyes snapped up to her face as she turned to him. A slight panicked thrill ran briefly through his veins, followed by bewildered confusion. Why had he naturally turned his attention to her bare skin?
"Look at you. You're usually so well-put together. This won't do, Mister Scientia." She moved towards him with outstretched hands. He stepped away quickly, causing her to look at him in confusion.
"I—I'm afraid I probably smell no better than the others." He explained.
She laughed with a slight shake of her head. "Yes, but leave it to you to be the only one who's conscious of it. Here." She reached up towards his face again, and this time he told himself to remain still. "You can at least do something with your hair before you walk out."
He watched her as she ran her fingers through his hair, scooping the soggy mess off of his forehead and back from his temples. An oddly elated sensation that ran through his body as she did so, and he felt his heart rate begin to increase. Were her eyes always that bright? Were her eyelashes always so long? Did the corners of her mouth always naturally curl up so gently? Where had that scar on her left clavicle come from? She was wearing earrings—the same color as the clamshell bracelet he had given her, which she always wore. He swallowed hard, noting how close she was to him. If Uncle had meant for his nephew to notice how at ease he was with his assistant, he had done just the opposite. Ignis had never felt so self-conscious in his entire life.
"There." She stepped away, wiping off her wet fingers on the hips of her training fatigues. "It's best to look presentable. You never know who you'll run into on the way to the showers."
"The Marshal?" He wondered aloud.
"Like Senator Lorche's daughter."
He blinked at her. "What do you mean?"
"She asked to see you. It's the real reason I came here. I didn't want to tell you in front of all the guys. You know what they would say."
He nodded. His heart rate began to slow gradually as she kept her distance from him. "Indeed." Was she saving him from embarrassment? "I've never received a request from her before. Did she say what she wanted?"
"She has to deliver a message to you from her father."
"Why didn't her father just give it to me personally?"
She shrugged, hands up in the customary 'I don't know' fashion. "I didn't ask. Can you imagine me asking a Senator's daughter for such information? They hate me enough as it is."
It seemed a flippant, nonchalant comment. But something about it frustrated Ignis and lit an internal alarm of some kind. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt irritated. "Why wouldn't you ask her? Aren't you on equal station?"
She stared at him in momentary disbelief. "Equal?" She let out a short laugh, hardly a breath. "Come on, Boss. You don't really believe that. Why would you? I'm just—"
"My assistant. And I am the Primary Retainer to His Highness. As she is a Senator's daughter and never sticks her nose into politics of any kind. I'm quite sure your position not only rivals her; It exceeds it."
"Yeah, but I'm not…"
"No more of that," he responded, cutting her off. "Thank you for delivering the message."
It was apparent that the conversation had come to an end. Ignis would hear no more of her self-deprecation, and he considered the matter closed. With that final word, he turned on his heel and headed towards the exit, leaving Aleya alone in the training room.
[Back to Entry]
Today, I received an invitation from Senator Lorche to pass on to His Highness. He would like for Noct and I to attend a dinner as a gesture of appreciation. I'm not certain what to make of it. Senator Lorche has never been overly fond of His Highness. I always gathered that he viewed Noct as quite unruly and undisciplined. While he's always shown respect to me, I think he may also have an underlying current of sympathy towards me for having my hands full with respects His Highness' care. It's possible that he wishes to extend courtesy towards His Majesty's son. Were I to gamble, however, I think something else is amiss. I don't believe it to be anything sinister, of course. I just feel his invitation has other motives. Perhaps he wishes to get into His Highness' good graces as a preemptive show of support? He's extremely career-oriented. I wouldn't hesitate to think he's laying plans for his future in politics.
I'll ask Noct what he thinks about it in the morning.
As to other things: I do wish Aleya wouldn't automatically assume everyone dislikes her. She's so certain of it. She continues to feel—especially after our ballroom display some weeks ago—that everyone in the Citadel regards her with criticism. I thoroughly believe she's being a bit paranoid about the whole situation. If I ever find out differently, I will address it immediately. Who in blazes would care if we danced or not? She's my assistant, is she not? I've danced with every other bloody politician's daughter, niece, and sister over the years. What difference does it make?
Also, I wish as well that she'd keep a bit of physical distance when we're alone. I don't relish the way it makes me feel. It's imperative that I keep my full senses about me. I don't enjoy being confused.
24th of March, M.E. 755
The Marshal called me in today with a surprising announcement. It seems the investigation into Aleya's accident has concluded, with astounding findings. Not only was the accident intentional, but it appears that the driver who careened into them was no other than the infamous Lord Yore. I was beyond belief. I asked the Marshal if we knew of his intent—was he targeting members of the Crown in general, or would he be after Aleya herself? After all, it was she who ultimately led to his expulsion from service.
The Marshal was uncertain. He said he only wished me to know; To be aware of the situation lest something else transpire. We both are hopeful nothing further will happen. After all, there have no further attempts to harm anyone to date. However, I can't help feeling uneasy. If Lord Yore is really roaming about and is so angry—angry enough to try to kill once—could he try it again?
The idea sounds horrid. It sends unwanted chills down my spine. Best if I keep an eye on her, I suppose.