The Disaster Magnet

Final Fantasy XV © Square Enix

The Disaster Magnet © fhclause

Chapter 3

It had been quite a few years since Noctis felt this awful.

Sprawled inelegantly—not that there was any way one could sprawl elegantly—on the lounge chair in his room, shirt left unbuttoned on the first two and face unshaved, Noctis mumbled a thank you as Ignis passed him an ice pack. He settled the pack on his forehead with a groan of relief as he buried himself further into the soft cushions.

When Noctis woke up and found himself in his bedroom, he had thought that last night was a dream. That the bumbling, red-haired buxom who was named after a fish, was a figment of his imagination he created to distract himself from his heartache. How that deliciously skittish, voluptuous of a woman had delivered a pun so bad, yet so good, that a burst of air straight from his belly tickled his throat and made him threw back his head in laughter. Noctis didn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard since he became king.

If he didn't feel the pain and the obvious bump on his forehead, Noctis would have definitely thought last night was a dream.

Noctis had asked Ignis if he knew what happened after he had passed out, but his retainer said nothing other than a short commentary on how Prompto was the one who carried him back into the limousine. No words from Lady Mola directly, but the Emperor of Niflheim did send a message of his intention to visit later in the afternoon.

Well, it was almost afternoon and Noctis had not even showered yet. Ignis, as quiet as he was arranging the paperwork of the day, was giving him constant stare of disapproval across the coffee table at his lack of hygiene. Usually, Noctis would have felt rebuked enough to do what Ignis was passive-aggressively telling him to do, but the pain from the bruise on his forehead and the insistent throb from the back of his head was turning him into a sloth since morning.

Then the door was knocked onto—unnecessarily loud, in Noctis's opinion—and Cor, his main advisor, came in.

Noctis saw through his unkempt hair that Cor had uncharacteristically raised an eyebrow at the sight of his slumped position. The sight of his king like this might have shocked the man. Usually—a back part of his mind chided himself for using the same adverb as an excuse for his lack of manner—Noctis would have straightened or saluted the man by now—he never showed his laziness to anyone outside his Brotherhood, after all—but he was that weary to care. "Yes, Cor?"

Cor coughed. "I would like to resume our conversation from two nights ago, Your Majesty."

Noctis groaned as he resettled his ice pack on his forehead. "By the Six. Can we not have this discussion right now? She just got married yesterday."

"We would've not been having this discussion if it were you she was married to. You can't just keep putting it off, Your Majesty. One way or another, you need to do your duty," Cor chided with a shake of his head. "You have made the council wait for five years under the reason to fortify the outlying territories of Insomnia—"

"A very good reason and a successful accomplishment."

"Yes, and the Galahd people are especially grateful. But rather than celebrating as you should have, you broke off your five-year engagement and gave your permission—publicly, without discussing it with the council first—for both of them to marry."

"Luna didn't need my permission to marry others. And Nyx Ulfric is a good man. Just because he is a commoner, doesn't mean he cannot be happy."

Cor sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thank you for not harbouring any resentment towards my subordinate, but that is not my point, Your Majesty. You had broken the council's trust and you did nothing to assuage their concern in trying to find a replacement within the past half a year after you two broke up. The council is voicing their concern about Lucis's future."

Noctis let the ice pack slid from his forehead as he sat up slowly. He supported his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers together as he stared down the carpet. "There has been a dissent?"

"Count Eridanus has been quite vocal in his displeasure. There is no big following as most people know how fraudulent he can be," Cor said, his face more stern than usual. "But you know how a small fire can spread so fast."

Noctis rubbed his thumb along with the other, contemplative. Then, he chuckled with a wry smirk. "You know, I wouldn't have pegged you as the politic expert before I became king. There's always a part of me that always sees you as Marshal."

"And I will always see you as the awkward prince who helped the farmer chase back his Chocobo around like a headless chicken. But I will not discuss it in further detail, because I am too polite to do so, Highness."

Noctis chuckled again.

There was a tiny quirk at the corner of his lips before Cor straightened them. He took a step forward and put a thick document on the coffee table, right into his sight of vision. "A list of candidates, for you to peruse."

Noctis frowned at it, a sense of alarm told him not to open it, but his curiosity won over. He weighted the document, grimaced at the colourful page markers sticking out at the edge of the document, coded neatly and accordingly to the letters of the alphabet. When he flipped the cover over, his eyebrows shot up high in disbelief. "Where did you even get—"

"That information is confidential, even to you, Your Majesty. They are from all over Lucis, Niflheim and Altissia, so you have no shortage of choices. I suggest you choose one before the end of this month."

Noctis whipped his head towards his advisor, but quickly regretted it. The headache came back with vengeance. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't choose one before the end of this month."

"Fortunately for you, it's not a matter of 'can', but 'need'. Have soirees, balls or attend them. Dinners, if necessary. I'm sure you can think of a way." Cor straightened before bowing. "Your Majesty." He gave a stern nod to Ignis, turned and left the room.

Noctis flopped back onto the lounge chair. "Uugh."

Ignis knocked the stack of paperwork in his hands against the coffee table a couple of times before gently setting it aside. He took the document, resting limply in Noctis's hand, and flipped the cover over. He raised an eyebrow. It contained information of all unmarried noble ladies from over Lucis, Niflheim and Altissia, their general information, likes and dislikes, and even down to how many shoes they purchased within a year. "It is… very disturbingly detailed."

"Ugherm."

"Well." Ignis put the document back onto the coffee table before nudging his glasses up. "Unfortunately, Curia Cor is right, Your Majesty. You have been putting the subject off for too long."

"Whose side are you on?" Noctis complained.

"I don't like this as much as you, Noct, but the worst battle sometimes are not the ones you fight outside the border. It's the one inside. So, if Curia Cor says this would prevent inner political dispute, I think you should consider it."

"I know, I know. I just—" Noctis groaned, gripping his hair tight as if it could help him find the answers he needed. Alas, nothing came other than more frustration. "I just hate being a king sometimes. I don't know how Dad did it." He let his hands slumped down next to his thighs, staring blankly at the view outside the window. It was too bright to properly empathise with his feelings. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm already failing him."

Ignis looked at him with pity, noting that Noctis had this sense of melancholy ever since he had taken up his duty as king. But there was nothing much Ignis could do but to support him from the side. "How about I run a hot bath for you? That should make you feel better."

And true to his retainer's words, Noctis did feel a whole lot better. Perhaps there was something about hot bath that was magical. Or perhaps Ignis was a magician, because by the time he had buttoned up his shirt up to the collar, Noctis felt as if he was ready to rule the world. Or tackle his first immediate problem deemed by his truly.

Like the large stack of paperwork Ignis had painstakingly arranged for him. Not his unmarried state nor the empty nursery.

Noctis was busy signing and/or rejecting proposals, when the butler announced the Emperor of Niflheim's arrival and showed him in. Noctis stood up to greet him but paused midway, hands still gripping the armchair, frowning alarmingly at the big bouquet of flowers in the emperor's hand. "What?"

Ravus rolled his eyes as he waved the bouquet around. "Not from me, silly, but from Lady Mola."

At that, Noctis perked up and took the bouquet. It was a messy combination of yellow daisies and white lilies. He peered over the bouquet to Ravus with a raised eyebrow.

Ravus waved a hand dismissively. "She was overly distraught when she thought she had committed regicide in front of the ton that she was not comprehending anything I say until this morning. I couldn't tell whether she was laughing of crying when she heard you're still alive, though. When I was about to visit you, she gave me a bouquet of daisies to pass to you. Then I suggested to her to come with me, and she took it back and came back with that. Must be something I said that convinced her that I was tricking her to go to your funeral instead. She picked those flowers personally, you know." Ravus smirked. "My gardener threatened to quit when he found out."

Noctis laughed. He could imagine it already, Lady Mola crouching down on a field of flowers, worrying herself for nothing to find the best flowers to put into the bouquet. He did not know if she knew it was inappropriate for ladies to give flowers to gentlemen they barely knew—Lady Mola probably did, but did not think of it until Ravus was halfway to the Crown City. She was probably quaking in her boots right about now, worrying if she had offended him again—but the gesture was touching. He never received a bouquet before. He brought it closer to his face—the unpleasant smell of the daisies overpowering the lilies—but Noctis smiled anyway. "Give her my thanks."

"Ah, well. About that," Ravus drawled as he sat himself on one of the settees in front of the desk. "I was wondering if you are interested in giving your gratitude personally?"

There was something in Ravus's tone that made Noctis paused. He set the bouquet gently on the windowsill where the sunray was abundant and sat down in his armchair. "What happened? Was it last night?" he asked.

"Yes, but nothing astronomical. Surprisingly, there were some nobles that showed interest despite what happened last night. His Grace, who is not a fan of flowers, had never been so happy to see that many bouquets of flowers in his foyer, although I do believe half a dozen of them merely showed interest for amusement purposes."

Noctis looked away as he folded the corner of a paper guiltily.

"In fact," Ravus continued. "I do believe one of the bouquets is from Insomnia."

Noctis frowned. "Whose?"

Ravus waved his hand. "Count Something-Something. Eduarnus? Aldinus?"

The frown deepened. "Count Eridanus. He's a prick."

"Noted. But coming back to our topic, I was wondering if you are free tomorrow? Since both the Oceanus and Nox Fleurets are staying in Insomnia this week, we thought of having a family luncheon together at the Oceanus's summer house tomorrow. You know, before Luna and her husband go off for their honeymoon in Altissia. Naturally, His Grace and Lady Mola will be there, as well as my mother."

Noctis's throat involuntarily constricted at the mention of Luna but quickly covered it with a cough. He gave the older man a wary stare. "And you want me to come…with you?"

Ravus rolled his eyes. "Not like that, but yes. I would like you to come with me. Mola was terribly devastated by what happened last night. I would like to restore some confidence in her that she did nothing catastrophic or she will never come out in public. You being there will prove to her that you do not bear any misgivings towards her." Ravus looked at him pointedly. "You did not, did you, my dear?"

"No, of course not. Sorry," he replied hastily, "for what happened last night."

"Ah. Terrible looking bruise, that," the older man gave him a look that were both sympathetic and condescending. How such contradictions were possible was probably another Ravus's mystery working. The said man scooted closer, his eyes lit up with interest. "But what did happen last night? I saw you two were laughing before you two fell down. In fact, everyone saw you two were laughing. The ton had a great discussion about what the killer topic was, that it brought the True King down."

"Nothing," Noctis flushed as he traced his bruise, suddenly embarrassed by the silliness of it. "Lady Mola made a pun and we just forgot we were dancing and lose our footing, I suppose."

Ravus blinked. "Mola? She made a pun?" He blinked again, twice, before leaning back into his seat, an undecipherable expression on his face. "Hmm."

They fell into a contemplative silence before the emperor's eyes darted around and caught something on his desk. "Oh? What's this?" Ravus snatched the document off from the desk before Noctis could. He had brought the document with him, just in case Cor would come in to check on him, but busying himself with his paperwork made him forget it was there. The emperor skimmed over it and smirked. "Ah, 'The List'. How nostalgic. Which edition is this?"

"You have it?" Then, catching up what the emperor had said, Noctis shook his head. "Wait. There's more than one?"

"Had it, more like. My council never give me one anymore after I burned it right in front of them. 'The List' is updated every three months. It even has one for the ladies. You'd be surprised how many nobles use it." Ravus flipped the document to a certain page. "Lady Mola is never in here, though."

Noctis frowned. "She's not?" Ravus handed the document back to him, and sure enough, there was no Lady Mola Altum in the 'M' section.

"Honestly, I am not sure whether to be grateful or insulted," Ravus continued. "I supposed I should be grateful that she is not entangled with the ton's wedding market game, but I also feel a little bit insulted that she was not deemed suitable enough to be a part of it."

"Definitely insulted," Noctis huffed, putting the document down. That thing was making his head ached again. "She is a fine lady."

"Indeed?" Ravus had that undecipherable expression again before he smiled. "Then, you don't mind coming for the luncheon?"

Noctis stared at his unfinished paperwork. He should not procrastinate any more than he should, or Gladio would be the one stacking—both the paperwork and him —instead of Ignis. He would be too bruised to move from his armchair then. But, he thought with a quick glance at the infernal document sitting on his desk and then to the bouquet flower on the windowsill. What a better way to cheer oneself up but with a good distraction?

Noctis smirked, already imagining the kinds of (mis)adventure he could get. He looked at Ravus. "Tomorrow, you say?"