When the Dark Flier touched down in the courtyard of the Ylisstol Palace, Nicholas had needed to move faster than he had done since the crusade, bellowing out orders for the Royal guards to step down and not start another war by shooting a messenger. The international condemnation for such an act would be nearly impossible to fix, such was the level of dishonor and pettiness it was considered. Even the more pragmatic nations across the Western Sea would look poorly upon an act, even if it were a mistake.
"Forgive my soldiers. I am afraid the scars of the crusade yet cut deep in my country, as I am sure it does in yours."
The Dark Flier held Nicholas' gaze for a few long, tense moments, before inclining her head respectfully. "Aye."
She swung herself off of her mount, and gently patting its mane before turning to the Exalt, now surrounded by Royal Guardsmen, lances pointed towards her. She cast her gaze over them all, and quite clearly fought back a scowl.
"...I am Sir Agatha of Pella, a Dark Flier of the Grimleal." The woman announced, and bowed stiffly. "I greet you with peace and good tidings in the name of our King, Validar the Fourth."
Nicholas bowed in return after the woman rattled off the traditional, formal introduction for peace time. "And I welcome you to my Halidom with peace and good tidings, and extend my protection to you."
It would annoy his guards, Nicholas knew. But by extending his protection to the Plegian, no Ylissean could harm her without committing treason. The Exalt knew that all it would take to spark a continuation of the Crusade was the death of this woman at the hands of one of his people, regardless of whether or not he approved. Which he didn't.
Inclining her head in acknowledgement, Agatha strode over to the Exalt and extended a hand. Nicholas accepted the offer, shaking the Plegian's hand firmly. "We will have a room prepared for you.. I am afraid we haven't done so already."
"It is fine, Your Radiance." Agatha replied plainly. "Might I ask for directions to the gardens? I mean no offence, but I wish to relax for a few hours before we must delve into the mire of international diplomacy."
The Exalt chuckled. "It is no bother, Sir Agatha. Emmie?"
The twelve year old Crown Princess of the Halidom of Ylisse, Emmeryn Henrietta Elissa Lowell, Grand Duchess of Whitecliff Bay, stepped forward, her brown-blonde in braids that came down both of her shoulders. She wore a remarkably simple green and white gown, and had a band of solid silver, inscribed with the first line of the holy text of Naga ("In the time after Her blessing, there was Peace"), rested atop her head. She curtsied, flawlessly, Agatha noted, and turned her gaze to the Exalt. "..Yes, Father?"
"Emmeryn. Would you please escort Sir Agatha to the gardens, for me?" He asked aloud. "She is visiting from Plegia."
The young princess swallowed, but nodded regardless. "Of course father."
Offering another stiff bow, Agatha proceeded to follow the young heiress, and away from the Exalt and his guards. When out of sight, she moved a hand to her belt and removed a small book from a side bag. It was purple, with Grima's brand printed in gold on the front.
"What….what are you going to be reading, Sir Agatha, if you do not mind my asking?" Emmeryn asked. "I..do not think I've seen a book like that before.."
The woman spoke in a reserved, uneasy tone. "It is a copy of The Alítheia, Your Highness. The holy text of the Grimleal. I would assume the reason you have not seen a copy before is due to the anti-Plegian laws put in place by your grandmother. If I recall correctly, she ordered all Plegian literature burned, the Almighty's words included."
Emmeryn nodded slowly, and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. After she did this several times, Agatha spoke. "You can speak freely, Your Highness. I will not be insulted."
Taking the opportunity provided her, Emmeryn blurted out "...My Grandmother ...Exalt Isolde..she always said that Plegians were...monsters...demons...but ...why? Why did she start warring with Plegia if it was lies? What was the point?!"
The Plegian cleared her throat. "...This is not a lesson I should be teaching you ...but sometimes, people are just...bastards, for the want of a better word. I doubt your grandmother had a real reason for her actions. No petty religious differences and no racist bullshit..pardon my language" Agatha let out an almost sad sigh. "I would advise you, as the young woman that will likely be my likely future Queen, not to convince yourself that there was any discernible excuse or reason for Isolde's War, else you will almost certainly be disappointed."
Emmeryn lowered her gaze. "I..see. Thank you for your advice, My Lady."
"It was my pleasure, Your Highness." The aged Plegian replied, almost smiling. "I am happy to answer any questions you might have..as long as they are sensible."
It was only at the feast that evening, that the first incident occurred. There was a feast held in Agatha's honour, all of the Exalt's court, including many important nobles and councilors. Meats and breads and stews and cheeses and more wine than an army could drink. Agatha herself was sat next to the Crown Princess, at Emmeryn's own request, no less. It was then that he announced the potential engagement between Emmeryn and Robin publically.
"...This is a joke, r-right father?."
The protest came swiftly, but Exalt Nicholas had expected it. Whilst his eldest daughter had remained silent, her eyes still on the Plegian Woman as she spoke, trying to mask a smile that betrayed nothing but surprise and mild satisfaction, his son, who rarely thought before speaking on a good day, was still young enough that the courtly mask expected of him was easily rattled and lifted. The fact Chrom had been incredibly close to his grandmother hadn't helped.
"It is not." Nicholas replied to his son calmly. "An engagement is being finalised. There will be peace and unity between Ylisse and Plegia."
"But why?" The young Prince Chrom asked heatedly. "We've always fought them! Grandmother fought them! You've fought them! I'll fight them! Emmie doesn't need to...to.."
"Do as Princesses do and marry someone for the good of their nation?" Nicholas stared at his son with a tired expression. "Wars cost lives and money Chrom. As Exalt, I must weigh whether or not continuing to fight is worth it now that peace is on the table."
"Nana said that peace with monsters is impossible." Chrom huffed. "She was smart."
"Well my Mother was wrong." Nicholas snapped, more harshly than he intended. "She marched our people into a war we could not win without a miracle, one that was unlikely given her lack of ability to wield Falchion. On her orders countless innocents on both sides were killed! Children were butchered for the simple reason that they follow a different faith to ours! She forcibly conscripted our citizens when our armies were depleted! She died alongside farmers and miners and shopkeepers for Naga's sake! How is that smart?"
"B-But stopping monsters is smart!" The Prince protested. "And what monsters could be worse than those death-worshipping Plegians?!"
As gasps filled the room, all eyes slowly turned to Agatha, who had not stopped eating her meal. She spooned up some of the rich, meaty stew in her bowl, and brought it to her lips. Savouring the flavor for a few moments, she swallowed loudly, which was likely deliberate. When she spoke, the entire hall had little option but to listen. "...Youthful ignorance I can accept Prince Chrom. Intentional ignorance I cannot. Do remember that I am a member of the clergy, Princeling, and more versed in what constitutes 'death-worship' than you are. What you 'refer' to is in fact the Lethen Heresy, who focused only on the Lethe chapters of The Alítheia."
"Q-Quiet Plegian!"
"Well said My Prince!" The cool tones of Lord Claudius Bradshaw filled the chamber. "Don't give them a chance to spout their vile doctrines. The very fact that-"
"Oh do shut up, Claudius."
Every eye turned to the one that spoke. The Exalt-Consort, Maria, wore a bored smile on her face. Bradshaw went a furious shade of purple. When he opened his mouth to speak again, Maria beat him to it.
"Do remain quiet, you warmongering Isoldian pillock." She told him. "You are threatening the peace process with your words. Is that honestly how you wish to be remembered? 'Claudius Bradshaw, the Warbringer'?"
"Nay!" The man scowled. "But if we must sell our Crown Princess like some common whore, we'd be better off allying with those Ancestor worshipping heatherns to the North, than the Devil worshipers to the west!"
With a shout from the Exalt, guards began to haul the Ylissean Lord out of the chamber, and then, swiftly, the chatter began again.
"If I were to write to Prince Robin…." Emmeryn murmured to the Plegian beside her.
"If you were to do so, you would be wise to remember that the official and formal name of our nation is the Theocratic Kingdom of Plegia, Princess." A ghost of a smile crossed Agatha's face. "Due to the Head of State also being the Head of the Faith. Be respectful, but not sycophantic. You are his equal, not his inferior. You will remain his equal, not his inferior."
"...I see.." Emmeryn nodded, before speaking again. "Can I ask something? If it is too personal, please say….why are you referred to as 'Of Pella', Sir Agatha?"
"...It refers to my status as being of common birth, Princess." The Plegian replied. "Whilst I do have a family name, when I am formally introduced or have a need to formally introduce myself as I did upon my arrival, it is by the city of my birth instead of my family name. It is the same for all commonborn in my situation. Our deeds are partly the glory of our home towns and cities. Instead of our families. That is solely a right of the Nobility. As I hail from the main city in the Duchy of Macedon, Pella, I am referred to as Agatha of Pella."
"Oh." Her gaze turned to the doors, where Bradshaw had been dragged through mere moments before. "Maybe...don't mention the fact you are a commoner to the Nobles."
Agatha snorted. "...Noted, Your Highness."
Robin Alexios, Crown Prince of the Theocratic Kingdom of Plegia.
I appreciate you writing to me more than can be articulated by ink and parchment. You need not ask forgiveness for contacting me in the manner you did, one of us needed to start things off, and I am glad that you took the initiative.
As you wrote to me of your faith, it seems only fair that I do the same. The Faith of Naga does not have any name further than 'The Faith'. We believe that Light and Life are good, blessings from Naga, and that darkness and death are evil, the creations of demons. I am sad to admit that most of the time, Grima is listed amongst those demons. Though as I have no Priestly training, I am afraid I know not how to describe the faith further.
As such, with your permission, I would like to propose a trade to take place upon our meeting. I would like to trade copies of the Holy Texts of our respective faiths. If our match does go through, I have little to no desire to anger your own people, nor do I wish to intentionally trick you into doing the same to mine.
Respectfully Yours, and may the blessings of Naga and Grima both be upon you.
-Emmeryn Lowell.
T'is clarification time! Woo!
Ages: Bearing in mind that this first arc takes place only a few months after the Crusade ended, Robin is 10, Emmeryn is 12 and Chrom is 7 or 8 and Lissa is about 2 or 3, or to put it another way, most people are two years older than in canon. Of course, at the conclusion of this arc, we will go forward in time a little, and so on until the time of the games (which is about fifteen-ish years from where we are now).