Chapter Ten

Ramza walked beside Meliadoul and held her gloved hand for a while, as soon as the morning marching began. He knew the others in the group might be surprised by the sight. But, as was his way, Ramza did not much care about their opinions. He cared about their safety, their loyalty, their friendship, and occasionally their input on strategic plans… but their opinions?

No. Absolutely not.

By now, everyone understood that they would be doing things Ramza's way, if they remained in his party. Even the great Thunder God Cid accepted this. Ramza might not openly admit it to himself, but it was a great source of pleasure to him that so many people had chosen to stay by his side. It sometimes caused him to feel pressured; but overall, he enjoyed being their leader, a lot more than he would have guessed he would.

Behind them, Luso and Rad began making quiet jokes about the new lovebirds. Ramza and Meliadoul made idle conversation together as they walked. And when Mustadio came up to talk with them, Meliadoul easily included him in the conversation, too. Ramza liked that. It was nice that he did not feel he had to lose his friendships to keep her happy.

He did, however, hope that Mustadio was not jealous. Ramza was not going to stop pursuing Meliadoul at this point, but he did not want to hurt his friend. Mustadio had never directly said out loud that he 'liked' Meliadoul, but Ramza had gotten a strong impression that that might be the case.

Truthfully, Mustadio felt only relief when the pair happily included him in their conversation. He did not mind that Ramza apparently had a new girlfriend, as long as they didn't make him feel like too much of a 'third-wheel'.

Ramza was his best friend, and Meliadoul was fun to hang out with, as well. Mustadio thought Meliadoul was cute. If she had tried to climb into his tent, then he certainly would not have minded, but it was not as if he had real feelings for her. He was, quite simply, generally open to the idea of sex with a beautiful woman. He did not claim to have lofty standards in that regard, as Ramza did.

Nearly any girl could catch Mustadio's attention for at least a moment, but he hadn't felt anything even close to a real crush ever since he met Ramza's sister.

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The first time Mustadio got a good look at Lady Alma Beoulve was right after their first fight with Confessor Zalmour, when the team grouped together to decide what to do next.

She kind of looked like Ramza, only made soft and feminine. Where Ramza's hair was a pale yellow-blond, Alma's was a shade or two deeper; a rich honey color. Ramza had extremely striking dark eyes and eyebrows, but Alma's brows were less intense, above her warm medium-brown eyes. Her cheeks were also slightly rounded like Ramza's, giving her a youthful appearance. Her nose was pert and little.

The dress Alma wore had clearly been designed to emphasize her bosom. The cream-colored fabric of the top was cinched snugly under her full breasts. The red skirt of the gown was loose and modest.

Mustadio thought her body was adorably soft-looking, almost plump. It was strange to see anyone who was 'soft' these days. He had only been traveling with Ramza since their adventures in Goug, but he had grown accustomed to the general look of soldiers who marched for miles at a time and lived on little sustenance: lean, sharp edges, a little dirty, hungry, angular bone beneath sinewy muscle. Even the women.

Mustadio had never been much impressed with noble ladies before. Not that he really knew any of them personally, being only a poor machinist. Princess Ovelia had been a lovely girl, during the short time they traveled together, but Mustadio rather hated the idea of 'nobility' in general. It annoyed him that some people claimed to be inherently better than him, based solely on their last name. Despite his general lack of reverence for titles, however, Mustadio found himself worrying about what to say to Lady Alma. He just… wanted to make a good impression on her.

He had smiled as he listened to Alma chastising Ramza into allowing her to come on the journey to Orbonne. Clearly, Alma Beoulve's personality was not as soft as her figure.

Mustadio liked that, as well. He himself was quite a talker. He enjoyed having long verbal dissections of his intellectual pursuits, as well as pretty much any other topic, with other bright-minded individuals. The one thing he could not bear in a friend or lover was silence. He already felt like it would be fun to talk to sharp-tongued Alma.

Ramza might have been alert to Mustadio's budding attraction. When he introduced the two of them, he stated, "Alma, meet my friend from Goug: Mustadio Bunanza. Mustadio, if you even think about putting a finger on my sister, you will be fed to a behemoth."

Alma smacked Ramza's arm. "Ramza! So rude!" She leveled her gaze on Mustadio now. "Hello, Mustadio. Pleasure to meet you, I am sure."

Mustadio smiled. "Pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Alma. I would kiss your hand, but…" he gestured at Ramza.

Alma chuckled. "Yes, I rather think my bodyguard would disapprove."

"Damn right," Ramza muttered.

That very evening, Mustadio had the chance to talk his little heart out with Alma. She sat with him and Ramza, after they had made camp for the night. It seemed that even though Ramza and Alma were fond of each other… they really did not have all that much to say to each other, in a social setting.

Mustadio more than made up for Ramza's abnormal silence around his sister. The machinist found that Alma was an absolute delight, as a conversationalist. They talked to each other for hours, with Ramza only occasionally adding a word here and there. They even volunteered to take the first watch shift of the night, because they were enjoying themselves so much that they did not want to go to bed. Ramza insisted on staying with them, too, being utterly unwilling to leave his sister unattended with Mustadio.

Truthfully, Alma seemed starved for conversation. She admitted to Mustadio that she had not really had any close friends for a while, as she had been living safely in her lord brother Zalbag's shadow, wherever he took her.

Alma seemed happy, now. Happy to be traveling with a homeless band of heretics, rather than living in a castle. Her eyes sparkled with life as she told him all about Orbonne Monastery (their ultimate destination) and Father Simon.

It was odd; even though Ramza sat literally between them, Mustadio felt like he and Alma were the only two people in the world as they chattered together. He was mesmerized by her merry smile, which she showed often. Her teeth were unusually straight and white, just like Ramza's. Their family seriously had more than their fair share of good genes. Mustadio supposed their commoner mother must have been an exceptional beauty, to snare lord Balbanes Beoulve.

Soon enough, Alma began to ask Mustadio questions about Goug and his work and his family. Mustadio enjoyed telling her all about their rescue of his father from the Baert Trading Company fiends. He would have tried to make his own role in the rescue sound more heroic, if Ramza had not been listening. But he knew Ramza would call him out on any bullshit claims meant to impress his sister, so he stuck to the facts. Really, Ramza and his pals had saved Mustadio's ass, and then Ramza had gone on to save Besrodio.

Alma seemed unsurprised to hear of her brother's brave acts. She was a bit less accepting, though, of Mustadio's detailed description of Cardinal Draclau turning into a Lucavi demon. No matter what Mustadio and Ramza said, they were not sure if Alma completely believed their tale.

Still, she was on their side. She was willing to do whatever she could to help them obtain the Virgo stone at the monastery. If Ramza believed it was important, then she supported him.

After around a week on the road, Alma asked if Mustadio would teach her to shoot his weapon. Mustadio had previously allowed her to examine the unloaded Romandian Pistol. She had, of course, seen him shoot it during the fight with Zalmour.

Mustadio had replied that he would be happy to teach her to shoot. However, her brother was not so pleased with that plan.

"It is a waste of ammunition," Ramza complained.

"I have plenty, and I can easily get more at the next outfitter we pass," Mustadio countered. "We are not hurting for funds lately. Lighten up, Ramza!"

Naturally, Ramza insisted on being present while Alma shot the pistol. Now that he had seen how well Mustadio and Alma got along, he was even less willing to leave them alone together.

The next time they took a day off from marching, to rest their bodies, was to be the day Alma had her first shooting lesson. Ramza's lover, the Holy Knight Agrias, decided to join them as well, and the four of them went off in search of a good spot in the woods. Mustadio chanced across a small clearing that would do nicely, and he arranged a few homemade targets at the far end.

He had to teach Alma how to load the pistol, and how to hold it properly with both hands, without ever actually touching her at all. Ramza was lurking a couple feet away, with his hawk eye on the two of them. He seemed so distracted with watching Mustadio, that he kept accidentally ignoring the things Agrias was saying to him. The shooting lesson had not even actually begun, and yet Agrias already looked furious with Ramza.

This is going to be a long day, isn't it? Mustadio thought to himself.

Alma was excited for the chance to use the exotic weapon. She recalled that the noise it made had been deafening, when Mustadio shot it at one of Zalmour's henchmen.

"Here, watch my stance when I take a shot," Mustadio said to Alma. "Then you'll have a turn."

Alma watched Mustadio plant his feet a bit wider apart. With both hands on the handle of the pistol, he brought his arms up straight in front of him, and sighted down the barrel. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the veins in his tanned, muscled forearms stood out.

"Cover your ears, if you like," Mustadio said.

Even with her hands over her ears, the noise was shocking when Mustadio took his shot. Alma jumped a little, as did Ramza and Agrias.

Mustadio's aim was true, as usual, and one of his far-away targets had been blasted down.

Alma grinned. This didn't look so difficult. If she could learn to use a pistol, like Mustadio, then maybe Ramza would feel more at ease about her traveling with his crew.

She was tired of him thinking of her as his defenseless, weak little sister. Alma wanted to prove that she could be useful, like Agrias and the rest. She didn't want to be dropped off like a child on Zalbag's doorstep, once the zodiac stone had been collected from the monastery. She wanted to stay with Ramza and his group, come what may.

The force of the recoil took Alma utterly by surprise, on her first shot. She missed her target by a wide margin, and her arms were jerked upward by the pistol.

Ramza and Agrias were arguing about something, behind her.

"You have to be ready when you take your shot," Mustadio said. "Keep your arms strong, don't let the pistol jerk you around."

"I see that, now," Alma remarked. Her next couple of shots were better, though she still missed the small target across the field.

Whatever Agrias and Ramza were fighting about, it seemed to have pushed Agrias past her limits, because she stalked away after a final angry glare at Ramza.

Handing the pistol back to Mustadio, Alma asked, "Ramza, what did you say to her?"

"Nothing!" Ramza said defensively. "She gets angry over nothing!"

Alma rolled her eyes. "You probably said something rude to her. No one ever accused you of being tactful, dear brother. Now you had better go apologize."

"Fine, if you are ready to go back to camp."

"No, I am not ready to leave! I have only taken three shots!"

"Well, I cannot just leave the two of you—"

"Go, Ramza!" Alma exclaimed, cutting him off. "I do not need you to be my nanny! I am perfectly safe here with Mustadio, so go make things better with Agrias!"

"I—" Ramza looked back and forth between Alma and Mustadio a few times, conflicted. Mustadio gave a small, indifferent shrug. He didn't want to get involved in an argument between the siblings. "All right," Ramza finished weakly. "I will see you back at the camp when you finish your lesson." He ambled off.

Alma gave a frustrated sigh. To Mustadio, she said, "He still thinks I am a child."

"No," Mustadio said, with a grin, "he just thinks I'll seduce you if he leaves us alone for half a minute. Although I'm not sure why he thinks I'm such a ladies' man. Women can't get away from me fast enough, once I start talking about machines!"

Alma smiled. She doubted that was actually true; he was probably just being modest. Mustadio was a good-looking man with a charming demeanor, and she would bet that women fell for him frequently. He had a slim but strong build, and she had noticed that his eyes were an interesting color: more gold than brown.

Alma's next several shots were steadier. As she prepped to take another, she was surprised when Mustadio frantically grabbed the weapon out of her hands. He pointed immediately and took a shot off toward their right. In the distance, she saw a coeurl panther slump dead to the ground, a bloody wound in its head.

"By the gods!" Alma shouted.

"Sorry! Sorry, Lady Alma! I didn't mean to grab; I just didn't want to let dinner run away!"

Alma made a face, as she made the connection between his words and the dead panther he had shot. "You eat cats?!" she exclaimed.

Mustadio shrugged. "Yep. And you will too, once we get it into the soup pot."

"Eww. No, I will not," Alma said.

"Sure, you say that now. But you've only been traveling with us for, what, a week? Give it another couple weeks, and you'll be excited for some fresh cat meat."

Alma grimaced even harder. She waited for Mustadio to go collect the carcass, before she continued her shooting practice. She jumped around, excitedly cheering, after she hit one of the targets for the first time.

"Whoa, careful with the pistol!" Mustadio exclaimed.

"It is not loaded anymore!" Alma said, handing it back to him.

"Still! You don't just jump around waving a pistol! It's not safe!" Mustadio insisted.

Alma laughed, still elated that she had hit her target. She sat down in a sunny spot in the long grass. "My arms feel shaky now," she remarked.

"Yes, that happens when you shoot many times in a row. It's not as easy as it looks!" Mustadio said.

"I suppose not! But I would still like to practice more, after I take a break," Alma insisted.

"All right, we will."

Mustadio took a seat on the ground, a couple feet away from Alma. He made sure he left enough space between them that Ramza would not complain, if he returned.

Alma flopped backward, laying her head in the grass. "The sunshine feels amazing! Do you know, I was never allowed to let the sun touch my face, before I joined this group? My keepers always admonished me that a lady must not let herself get freckles. So, no sunshine allowed. I had to wear a huge hat whenever I ventured outdoors."

Mustadio looked down at Alma, who was clearly basking in not only the sunshine, but also in her own little sense of rebellion.

"Well, you have some freckles on your face now," he told her.

She mock-gasped. "I do not!"

"You do, indeed."

Alma looked so pretty laying in the field, at ease. Mustadio could not stop grinning at her.

Alma liked watching him smile. His canine teeth jutted forward a bit, so that they slightly crowded the teeth next to them. She thought it made his smile look rather wolfish, and she found that sort of sexy. The bright, sunny-tempered machinist actually looked a little dangerous when he smiled.

Mustadio plucked a very long blade of grass. Reclining onto his elbow, he reached over and traced the tip of the grass blade lightly down Alma's nose. "You have freckles all along here," he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut, smiling. "That tickles!"

Alma reached up with both hands to brush her bangs back, off of her forehead. Her hands came to rest beside her head, when she finished the movement. The position looked painfully open and inviting, to Mustadio.

"And here," he said quietly, trailing the blade across her cheek.

Alma's eyes remained closed, but she stopped smiling. Her lips were parted, wordlessly. She drew in a long, shaky breath. Mustadio froze for a moment, before he allowed his hand to keep moving. The grass blade stroked down her cheekbone, and then slowly along the curve of her lower lip. She gasped softly.

When Alma opened her eyes again, the heavy-lidded stare she gave him was full of longing. Simple instinct drove Mustadio to lean over and kiss her still-parted lips. She moaned into him, and he was utterly lost for a moment, sliding his tongue across her lip, feeling her hand stroking his hair. He was down on his forearms now, his body halfway pressed over the length of hers.

What are you doing? A voice in the back of his head shrieked at him. This is Ramza's sister, he'll lose his mind if he sees you like this!

Mustadio reluctantly pulled his head backward. He had been planning to tell Alma that they couldn't do this, but the words didn't come right away. Instead, he stared down at her flushed face, while she stared back at him. After a moment, her lips curled slightly into a small smile.

Mustadio sat up, feeling a bit shaky. "I—Huh. Um. We had better continue shooting."

Alma bit her lower lip. "All right."

She took her time sitting up and stretching. That had been her first kiss. It had felt really lovely, and Mustadio had seemed to enjoy it too, until he pulled back.

Alma was savoring the moment. She had actually begun to believe that she would never kiss anyone until she was married. The young noblemen she crossed paths with at Igros Castle (or anywhere else, really) all knew who she was. A Beoulve daughter, with older brothers who had the power to destroy a squire's career, if provoked.

The boys didn't mess with her, even if she might have liked to be messed with. The same boys who openly flirted with the daughters of minor knights and barons practically turned to stone whenever Alma tried to talk to them. She was off-limits, as far as they were concerned.

It had been sort of depressing, for Alma. It wasn't much fun to be revered, when that also meant being completely alone. She appreciated that Mustadio had found the courage to kiss her, even though they both knew Ramza would not approve.

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Mustadio had never had another moment alone with Alma after that day, during their trip to Orbonne Monastery. He had given her two additional shooting lessons, but Ramza had been present during every minute.

Probably for the best, Mustadio thought. He had really enjoyed their kiss, but he might not have tried for another one, even if they had been given a good opportunity. Something about the whole dynamic struck him as distasteful, with her being a noblewoman, and him a commoner. He wasn't asking for life-long love, necessarily, but he also didn't like the idea of being used as some commoner-boy-toy for a while, until she disposed of him in favor of a suitable rich nobleman. Even if Alma genuinely liked him, that would inevitably happen sooner or later.

Mustadio often thought about the day Alma had been kidnapped at Orbonne.

Alma was looking after Elder Simon, who was gravely injured, as Ramza and the rest of the team had been preparing to go down the stairs to confront Izlude Tingel for the Virgo stone. Mustadio had been so close to offering Alma his spare pistol, before they left her. He owned two, and he carried both into battle. If he needed more bullets, it was faster to pull his second weapon than it was to take a moment to re-load his first.

He almost gave her a pistol. But ultimately, Mustadio did not make the offer. Because he was selfish. Because he was a coward, deep down. He might need that second pistol to protect himself, in the fight that was surely waiting for them downstairs. He weakly told himself that Alma would be safe, hiding behind a large table with Elder Simon.

Of course, she had not been safe. She had been abducted right after they abandoned her there.

Now, in his thoughts, Mustadio spent a lot of time living in the painful world of 'what if'. What if he had given that pistol to Alma, before the rest of them went downstairs? She had become a pretty good shooter, after her three lessons.

If he had, then so much trouble might have been avoided. Mustadio could picture it: as Wiegraf Folles strode toward Alma, intent on kidnapping her, she could have simply lifted her weapon and shot him square in the face. Her aim was true after all that practice; she could have easily hit the White Knight from close range. Then, she could have dashed down the stairs to re-join the relative safety of Ramza's party. Wiegraf would have never had the chance to hand Alma over to Izlude, who spirited her away on a chocobo.

If Mustadio had just given her that damn pistol. Alma would probably be safe with them, right now. And even Wiegraf would have been better off. A quick bullet to the head would have spared him from the horror of being possessed by a wicked Lucavi.

Halfway-drowned in shame and regret. That was how Mustadio felt, all the time now. If they weren't able to rescue Alma, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself.

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