Chapter Twenty-Five
"Alma, might I speak with you?"
Alma saw Meliadoul hesitantly standing in her bedroom doorway.
"Certainly. Is something wrong?" Alma asked. She had not had any one-on-one conversations with the Divine Knight, before now.
Meliadoul walked in and perched on the edge of Alma's brand-new bed. She looked around the room (which was already messy with all of the possessions Alma had managed to collect so far), and then looked out the window, avoiding Alma's eye. The view from this second-story bedroom showed her only trees and the side of the miner's hut they had abandoned as soon as their new house had become inhabitable last week.
"Nothing is wrong. I just… I heard about your time in Riovanes, Alma. And… and… I—I wanted to ask you about… about my brother, Izlude."
Alma's lips pursed tightly together. She hadn't known that Meliadoul was aware she had been imprisoned with Izlude. She had always thought that one day she would talk to Meliadoul about their time together… but she hadn't planned on doing it this soon. She wasn't sure she was ready for this.
"Um, all right," Alma said warily.
"I was told by Malak that my brother kidn—" Meliadoul's voice cracked sharply, but she went on, "kidnapped you, from Orbonne Monastery, before Lord Barinten's men took you both."
"Yes. He did," Alma replied.
"Gods… I am so sorry, Alma," Meliadoul said, suddenly choking on a sob.
Alma was stunned to see the Divine Knight weeping, when she had thought for certain that she herself would be the first one to break down over any discussion of Izlude.
"Please accept my apologies on his behalf," Meliadoul begged. "He—he was not normally so cruel… I hate knowing that he—"
"Meliadoul, no!" Alma cut in. "You've no need to apologize to me. Izlude was actually very kind to me while we were imprisoned… I am not certain I could have survived that time without him, truly."
Meliadoul was clearly eager to hear anything Alma felt like sharing, regarding Izlude. So, Alma spoke at length about her time in the Riovanes dungeon with Meliadoul's little brother. She found herself even sharing details she might normally have tried to keep from one of Izlude's relatives: their first kiss, their shared cot and their talk of marriage, of making a life together. It both hurt and helped, to tell it all to someone who had cared for Izlude at least as much as she did.
They had both wept rivers by the time Alma ran out of things to say. And then they talked some more about him. Eventually, Ramza came looking for Meliadoul, but she sent him away. They continued to talk well past their usual bedtime, and Meliadoul shared her own memories. Alma was surprised that she was able to laugh a bit, hearing about Izlude's childhood mischief, rather than simply crying the whole time.
Meliadoul hugged her tightly when they finally said goodnight, and thanked her for sharing so much.
"I thought I was the only person in the world who mourned him," Meliadoul admitted. "I am sorry that you must share in that pain; but it is a comfort to me, to know that Izlude spent his last days with someone who loved him. I cannot thank you enough for that, Alma."
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If Agrias had a pocket watch (rare items from Goug which were only sold in private auctions to the wealthy) then she would have been checking it. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching Ovelia try on another dress for the fourth or fifth time, as she tried to decide what to wear to the festival for Saint Ancelot, which would be held in town today.
Agrias had given opinions on the gowns when asked, but she was quickly realizing that her input was not going to encourage Ovelia to decide any faster.
In the mirror, Ovelia caught Agrias' eyes roving over her appreciatively as she stripped down to her shift again. Wordlessly, she knelt in front of Agrias and dropped a quick kiss onto her lips. Agrias gripped Ovelia's shoulders to prolong it, pulling her almost into her lap.
Ovelia reached up to brush some strands of blonde hair out of Agrias' face. "Do you think we have time to go back to bed, before everyone else is ready to leave?"
Smiling, Agrias shook her head. "We are holding everyone up enough already, with you unable to decide on a dress."
"It is not an easy decision! I have never been to a festival in a small town!" Ovelia exclaimed. "It is our first chance to dress nicely since we arrived here, but if I over-dress, then I will stand out too much!"
"I still think you should wear the first dress you tried on," Agrias said.
"And I still think you should get in the spirit and put on a gown yourself, Agrias!"
Agrias snorted. "Squire's gear is good enough for me. I'll not be without my sword today, even if Meliadoul and Alicia think it is safe to go out with no weapons."
Lavian, Rad, and Ramza were on the same page as Agrias. They were dressing as squires and carrying their weapons to the festival, rather than wearing the colorful civilian clothing the others were allowing themselves to enjoy today.
"It will be safe though, will it not?" Ovelia said. "This is a celebration, nothing dangerous ought to happen."
"Probably."
As Ovelia climbed back out of her lap, Agrias looked around at the gowns scattered everywhere. The room had been perfectly tidy an hour ago, when Ovelia had first started getting ready. Agrias was still helping Ovelia get used to the idea that there were no maids to pick up after her anymore, and Ovelia had to do it herself.
They were sharing this bed and bedroom in the new home. The house was large enough that they could have asked for two separate bedrooms, but Ovelia had insisted on just one room for the two of them, and no one had questioned the decision too closely. Agrias thought most of them realized, by now, that her relationship with Ovelia was not platonic.
They were so happy to be living in a house with proper walls and locks on doors, rather than the old hut, which had simply had blankets hung as partitions. Thank goodness the head carpenter Ramza had hired was both a mage and a geomancer. She had been skilled in the manipulation of physical matter, and in using magic to make the construction of a home come along shockingly quickly.
Although the new house was very comfortable, Agrias and Ovelia had spent a fair amount of time discussing their future plans. They wouldn't stay here forever. The property and the mine were owned by Ramza, Meliadoul, Malak, and Mustadio, who had each pitched in shares of their fortunes to purchase everything, with the understanding that they would settle here permanently. The others were simply paying rent to stay on the property (except for Rafa, who they were treating as still a child, and insisting that she live with them rent-free until she was sixteen. Even after that, Malak surely would not charge her to live on his property).
The people paying rent were, of course, free to roam elsewhere if the mood struck them. No one was in a hurry to leave, though. There was a sense of safety, being part of the large group. Together, they had successfully fought off attacks from the Church of Glabados while they still lived in Ivalice. If the Church tried to send assassins after them into Ordallia, they would have a better chance of surviving if they could continue to fight together.
Whether the Church would actually bother to do that was anyone's guess. The Church of Glabados had no authority in Ordallia; they could not send large forces into the country without stirring the attention and retaliation of Ordallian officials. The High Confessor might simply decide that it was better to let the heretic group led by Ramza Beoulve disappear without a fight.
Hell, the Church might not even know for sure if Ramza was still alive.
After a year or two of peace, then Agrias and Ovelia would probably move out on their own, to create a home separate from Ramza and the rest of the crew. Once they knew it was relatively safe to do so.
Ovelia slipped back into the blue gown, the one Agrias had just referred to, and then reached back to tie her shoulder-length hair up into a bun.
"So… today is Delita's birthday," Ovelia commented quietly.
"His birthday?!" Agrias looked up, startled.
"Yes. He shares his birthday with Saint Ancelot."
"That bastard. Try not to think about it, Ovelia. Do not let him ruin the festival for you."
Ovelia maintained her cool composure, looking honestly not bothered. "Do not worry, Agrias. I can speak of him without feeling upset. I really can."
"…All right… Well… Hmm. Speaking of birthdays, I need to ask when is Mustadio's! He gave me a gift for my birthday, a very expensive gift actually, and I ought to return the favor! He has not mentioned his birthday to you yet, has he?"
"No, I've no idea when it is," Ovelia said. "What did he give you, then?"
"Lip rouge! One with magical properties. Heaven knows where he got the idea, but it was very thoughtful."
Agrias stood up and rummaged in the top drawer of their new wardrobe until she located the carefully wrapped Tynar Rouge.
"Would you like to try it on, Velia? I've not worn it since the day he gave it to me. I felt passing strange, walking around with red lips… I felt as if everyone was staring at me."
Ovelia agreed to try it on. She was accustomed to people staring at her. As she began to apply the lipstick in front of the mirror, Agrias went out into the hall to find Mustadio.
It turned out he was already downstairs, with the rest of the group growing rapidly more impatient to leave for the festival.
"I apologize," Agrias said to everyone, "Ovelia should be ready in just another moment or two."
"You said you would hurry her up this time!" Malak said.
Agrias sighed. "I tried! She said after she finishes fixing her hair, she only needs to say a few prayers more for the morning, and then she will come down. Anyway, Mustadio, when is your birthday? When the time comes, I must find you a fitting gift to thank you for the Tynar Rouge you gave me."
Mustadio tried to put off the question, but was eventually forced to admit that his birthday had passed by last month, without any mention made of it at the time.
"R-really, you needn't get me a thing," Mustadio insisted.
"I cannot believe you did not even tell us," Agrias said, "And I will certainly get you something! Ovelia and I will find the perfect gift for you at the festival."
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Agrias quickly learned that Ramza was very fond of festivals. During their long acquaintance in Ivalice, they had never been able to attend one before. A day spent playing games and drinking mead out in public seemed to very much agree with Ramza. He and Meliadoul kept getting back in line to test their balance on a rope-climbing device set over a soft bed of loose straw.
Neither Agrias or Ovelia was interested in competing, but they watched the others. Ramza was holding Meliadoul's drink while she used all four limbs to cling onto a wobbling web of angled ropes. She was closer to the top now than even Ramza had gotten on his last try, but… Agrias shook her head, both judgmental and amused. The girly lavender dress Meliadoul was wearing was not the right choice of attire for this game. Not only could they see part-way up her skirt as she climbed, but Meliadoul's ample breasts were liable to pop out of that low-cut gown any moment, as she balanced on the ropes.
When they had all been waiting in the parlor of the house earlier, Agrias had been able to tell that Ramza had greatly appreciated the unobstructed view of Meliadoul's generous cleavage. The way his gaze had kept drifting down as he stood with an arm around his wife's waist, it had seemed that he would rather pull her back into the bedroom instead of beginning the trip to the festival.
Once they had arrived here, Meliadoul had seemed to entirely forget that she was dressed like a lady. She was drinking as fast as the rest of the crew, which probably didn't feel good while she was laced into a tight bodice, but Meliadoul showed no signs of discomfort. And now, she was playing festival games that were never meant to be played by anyone wearing skirts.
Agrias grudgingly felt a bit of admiration for Meliadoul's carefree attitude. She realized that that was something Meliadoul and Ramza had very much in common: an ability to roll with the punches, to seek enjoyment wherever it could be had, to refuse to dwell on inconveniences and bad news.
Agrias herself was one who dwelled. She took precautions, she planned in advance as much as she could. Ramza sometimes accused her of overthinking things, of always trying to find fault, back when they were together with each other. But Agrias felt it was only sensible. If everyone went around as blithely optimistic as Ramza and Meliadoul, then they would probably all be dead by now. Ramza's luck couldn't carry them through everything.
She was not surprised that Ramza and Meliadoul had gotten married so soon. Agrias would never have made such a decision so quickly, if she had been in their shoes, but they were nothing like her, really. With a smirk, Agrias speculated that the two of them were just simple enough to actually make it work, to still be carelessly happy together forty years later.
The one thing that really irked Agrias was her jealousy that they had been allowed to do it. Once they got to Ordallia with their fake paperwork, Ramza and Meliadoul could simply go get married. No matter what country she traveled to, Agrias would never be able to just stroll into a church and marry Ovelia. Even though she loved her more than anything or anyone.
It wasn't Ramza or Meliadoul's fault, but Agrias still had a hard time being completely happy for them.
Barely six inches from reaching the victory bell at the top of the ropes, Meliadoul's balance slipped, and in a flurry of violet-colored skirts she tumbled down to the straw below, momentarily leaving everyone with a view of white stockings and underwear. The watching crowd cheered, Meliadoul made a rude gesture at most of them, and then accepted her drink back from Ramza, also taking his drink so that he could get back in line to compete again.
"I thought her breasts were going to fall out of her dress by the time she made it to the top," Agrias muttered to Ovelia.
Ovelia gave a sly grin. "I'd not entirely have minded if they had," she muttered back.
Agrias darted Ovelia a shocked look, before they both began giggling.
Meliadoul wasn't even the only one dressed uncharacteristically fancy today. Alicia had worn a green dress, which looked striking with her auburn hair and pale skin. Agrias wasn't sure if she had ever seen Alicia dressed as anything other than a squire or a lancer, before now. The petite woman looked adorable today.
Alicia had agreed to help Agrias and Ovelia pick out a birthday present for Mustadio while they were here. When they grew bored with watching the rope climbing competition, the three women began to wander around the stalls and shopfronts, looking for something suitable.
"Will you please tell Mustadio that the gift is from me, too, if I pitch in some money?" Alicia asked Agrias.
Agrias arched an eyebrow. "Why?"
Alicia looked away. "No reason, I just want him to know I helped," she said.
Naturally, Agrias and Ovelia spent the rest of the afternoon teasing Alicia about having a crush on Mustadio. The redhead didn't deny it, but she didn't openly admit it either. Ovelia offered to try to help arrange things so that Mustadio would end up paired with Alicia later tonight, when the dancing would begin in the town square. Alicia dropped all pretense at that point, saying that she would appreciate that very much.
They finally settled on a new holster for Mustadio's gun, as the perfect belated birthday gift. Mustadio wore both his old pistol and his new, more advanced revolver at each of his hips while he worked each day. He had one proper leather holster, but the other gun was kept in a homemade sling. They had commissioned the creation of a new holster with the town's leathermaker, and they were confident that Mustadio would really appreciate the gift once it was finished.
Agrias, Ovelia, and Alicia eventually rejoined the rest of the group, finding them hanging out toward the back of a crowd watching a play being performed. The actors spoke the same language they did, but the southern Ordallian accent was so strange that they had a hard time understanding a lot of the words.
The rest of the crew seemed to already be pretty deep into their cups. Ramza's cheeks and nose were flushed red, and he was not saying much. Mustadio, in contrast, was talking a mile a minute. By now, Agrias knew that those were the obvious signs of each man being inebriated.
Luckily, Mustadio was still basically functional enough to join in the dancing, later on. Ovelia kept her word, and ushered Alicia into Mustadio's unsuspecting arms, ordering him to go dance because Alicia wanted to.
Agrias thought Mustadio didn't mind being pushed into dancing with Alicia. They appeared to be having a good time twirling together.
Agrias and Ovelia wouldn't be able to dance with each other in public without getting harassed, so they did not dance at all. Just one more cruel fact that Agrias knew she would spend a lot of time dwelling on.
Many people had laid out picnic blankets on the grass nearby, to sit and watch the festivities. Agrias laid down her cloak so that she, Ovelia, and Alma could sit down and watch the dancing. She didn't need the cloak for warmth anyway; it was a balmy evening. There were some good things to be said about southern Ordallia's nearly-tropical climate. It must be freezing in Lesalia by now, but here it still felt like late-summer.
They made a beautiful trio, sitting together on Agrias' cloak. Alma looked almost like a bride, in the cream-colored, many-layered gossamer gown she wore today, and with her honey-colored hair held back in an elaborate twist. Ovelia, of course, looked incredible in whatever she wore. And even dressed as a squire, Agrias knew that she herself was quite good-looking, with her thick blonde braid down her back.
Many of the local boys and men felt moved to approach them and ask them to dance, but the three women politely declined each hopeful lad. Alma claimed that her head hurt from drinking too much mead, but Agrias suspected the truth was that Alma just didn't feel like flirting.
Agrias figured it was likely that Alma had been subjected to less-than-pleasant encounters with men during her months of being held hostage. Agrias knew that it could be a long time before the Beoulve girl found her equilibrium again. She had told Alma that she was willing to listen, if Alma ever wanted to talk about what had happened to her during captivity, but Alma had not been very forthcoming.
Looking up again, Agrias saw that Mustadio and Alicia were still dancing together, this time to a slower tune. Alma and Ovelia were watching them too.
It was a terribly romantic scene. It was reaching the time of night when the stars were just becoming visible in the dusty blue sky. Mustadio had briefly dipped his head so that his forehead pressed against Alicia's for a long moment, as they both giggled over something together.
Agrias could not claim to be surprised that when the song ended, Mustadio dipped his head again, this time to gingerly press a kiss to Alicia's smiling lips. Even from this far away, Agrias could see that they both looked shy-but-pleased when their kiss ended.
Ovelia triumphantly declared, "Hah!" and clapped her hands together, apparently feeling that the credit for their kiss went to her own meddling.
Alma's expression looked positively stormy.
Agrias was taken aback for a moment. She could not figure out why Alma had any cause to look so very displeased.
"Alma, are you well?" Agrias asked, feeling genuinely concerned for her.
"What?!" Alma said loudly, snapping her stare away from the dancing pair and onto Agrias. "Oh. Oh, gods. Yes, I am well. Uh… my head still hurts, though. Do you think we can convince everyone to go back home soon?"
Agrias assured her they would try, after this next song ended and they could pull the dancers away.
A minute later, the conversation happening on the blanket next to theirs snared Agrias' attention completely.
"Yes! And only on her throne for a few months! Seems even their palace isn't safe from the Black Death anymore."
"I heard their new king is so devastated that he rarely even leaves his chambers anymore. Poor man! They say he really loved her."
A snort from another person. "Well, he ought to! She pulled him out of some gutter and raised him up to the throne! Surely they will replace him now with someone from the nobility…"
Agrias barked at Ovelia and Alma to please go take a walk, and the look on her face must have been terrifying enough that they did so with hardly any questioning. Once the two others were gone, Agrias risked addressing the gossiping women directly.
"I am so very sorry to interrupt, my ladies. Only, were you speaking of the king and queen of Ivalice, just now?" Agrias said, trying to pretend only a small amount of interest.
The women fairly squirmed with pleasure at being called 'ladies'. They were obviously only of the merchant class, and being "mistaken" for noble ladies would be the highlight of their week, by Agrias' estimation.
They fell all over themselves to tell Agrias every bit of gossip they had heard.
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Agrias waited until she and Ovelia were alone in their bedroom to tell her everything. She wanted Ovelia to be able to receive the news in private, before they had to tell everyone else. Gods, that was if Ramza and the others hadn't already heard the gossip from other people at the festival! It must be a popular topic of conversation, even if it was about monarchs from another country.
But if the others had heard, they probably would have raced to tell Ovelia and Agrias. They probably didn't know, yet. It wasn't as if any of them had mixed all that much with the locals.
Agrias would have to tell them soon, either tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. The news added yet another layer to the danger they already lived in.
She pulled Ovelia against her, into a warm hug, as they were getting undressed.
"Velia, listen. I learned something upsetting at the festival, and I waited until now to tell you about it."
Ovelia stiffened in her arms. "What is it?" she asked, sounding unusually childlike.
"I wish there were some easier way to say this, but… you must know. The rumor going around town is that Delita has declared to all of Ivalice that you are dead. He never admitted that you chose to leave him. He has claimed that you caught the Black Death and you died while confined in a room in the palace. At least, that must be the story they believe in Ivalice, because it is the story being told now, even here."
"He… he says I am dead?" Ovelia repeated softly.
"I am sorry, Ovelia. I know this must be difficult to hear."
"But what about… with no body to show? How could he…?"
"Only the gods know! He may have found a body to stand in for yours, and I pray for that poor soul if he did. You know he pulled a similar stunt when he faked Cid's death. I am sure it was not difficult for him to bribe a couple of Priests to stay in a sickroom and claim you were in there dying from the Black Death, so no one else could come in to see you."
"Oh gods… Agrias," was all Ovelia managed to say.
Agrias knew that Ovelia understood. She often kept her cards close to her chest, but she wasn't stupid. They both knew what this meant for them.
Delita had claimed that Ovelia was dead. Delita would not want a woman he had declared deceased ever showing up at his palace to make a liar of him and demand her throne back, one day. If Delita had told people that Ovelia was dead… then he would do his very best to make it the actual truth.
"I must now warn Ramza and the others," Agrias whispered into Ovelia's hair. She had to tilt her face up a bit, since Ovelia was a couple inches taller than she. "We were not sure whether the Church would send assassins after us, but now we know that Delita will."
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