AN: I just realized that I should probably state that I don't own any of the FF9 characters. But then, if you've played the game, you know which characters I don't own and which I do, don't you:P

According to the rules of decorum and propriety, the scene in Queen Garnet Til Alexandros's bedroom was one of shocking disgrace. The young woman was wrapped tightly in the arms of a man not much older than she. Their eyes were squeezed shut against the world as if all of their problems could be kept away if only they could stay together, each in the embrace of the other. They created a perfect picture of two lovers joined together in grief.

Eventually, the queen's sobs quieted and the man's hand, which had been slowly stroking her head, stilled. The moment he felt her stiffen he knew that she had realized what she had done: she had cried in front of a stranger. Worse, she had actually taken comfort in the arms of this man who she did know. This was hardly the action that a monarch should have taken and her cheeks reddened as the inevitable shame overtook the primitive desire for comfort. Her guest allowed her to remove herself from the warm circle of his arms, although she did so with a small pang of regret; she could not deny that she had enjoyed the solace he had given her, but she felt that to take more comfort than he had offered would be an affront to the man and to herself. She instead took a step away from him and lowered her head, avoiding his eyes the best she could without being rude.

"Thank you," she murmured, still appalled at what she had done but realizing that he had only allowed it for her comfort.

He did not reply. Garnet, as she was still trying to avoid his gaze, could not see his expression. She had the vague impression that he had nodded, but that was only a feeling that could have easily been incorrect. She could not help but wonder what he was thinking.

He was, in fact, wondering just how to explain to the woman before him that he was partly responsible for her fit. He could have saved Zidane, he was sure, if he had only tried harder. But then, he was greedy. He desired life; he craved the warmth of the sun and the heat of battle; he wanted to live. Was it so wrong?

Yes, he realized. To ruin the life of an innocent…that was wrong.

And then there was the other matter, that of his identity. He was not so certain that the princess -queen, he mentally corrected himself- would be so accepting of his presence if she knew who he was. How could he tell her when only a few moments before she had been in his arms, crying over the loss of her lover?

And it's your fault.

The man willed the voice away; he had no time for that now. He would not waste the time given back to him on thoughts of the fallen genome. But, he realized as his gaze wandered over the young woman before him, Garnet did at least deserve to know his name, if not his involvement with her lover's end.

It was then that Garnet raised her eyes to meet his, and he was struck with such a wave of grief so strong that his very breath was ripped from his chest. He could feel himself slipping away from reality and he put up a valiant fight against the will that was taking over his own. It was in the midst of this battle that he felt her hand upon his arm and heard her soft, worried voice asking if he was going to be okay.

Not wanting to involve her or make her aware of his condition, the man, wincing, bit out a terse reply. He felt the battle of wills drawing to a close, with him as the victor and was relieved that he once more had control of his own body. When the other thing had retreated to the depths of his soul, the man sighed in relief and glanced at the princess to see her reaction.

She appeared horrified.

Garnet knew that she should not have allowed it to bother her to the extent it did, but when the impostor had winced in pain, she could not help placing her hand on his arm. He had, in turn, hissed that he was fine. But that was not what had frozen the princess's heart in some emotion she could not name.

For the first time since his arrival, the impostor had called her Dagger.

Finally, she could bear the secrecy no longer. She would not back down from the answer, no matter how terrifying it may be. Garnet curled her delicate fingers into a tight fist as she hardened her resolve. She would not have a stranger in her home any longer.

"Just who are you," she demanded with all of the tenacity that might have been expected of a royal lady.

Startled by her sudden burst of willpower, the impostor could do nothing but stare at her, shocked. Blinking, he straightened, aware that the answer to her question, which did indeed need to be answered, could very well get him thrown out of Alexandria castle and Queen Garnet's life.

But, he decided with a sneer, if he had to be the villain he might as well play the part. Mustering as condescending a look as he possibly could, the impostor opened his mouth and replied, "I am the very man who Zidane sacrificed his life for." He paused to smile bitterly at the shocked woman. "I am your enemy Kuja."

When delivered a particularly painful blow, the mind does not always accept the seriousness of the matter. It tries to find reasons why such a thing cannot be true, why it cannot exist, or why it simply cannot be the way it is. Garnet's mind, although particularly stronger than most, was no exception to this rule. However, after a full minute of searching, she could find no solid reasoning behind the impostor's last words to her.

I am your enemy Kuja.

Shivering, Garnet took a step back, and then another. She felt as though she had betrayed herself and, as the memory of his arms and how he had held her as she cried surfaced, the hot, uncomfortable rush of shame burned her cheeks and brought tears to her eyes again. Why? Anyone would have been better than him! Another genome who looked like Zidane, a demon possessing the fallen body of her love, even Garland himself would have been more desirable than Kuja!

"No," she whispered, not realizing that she did. Her reaction earned a frown from the man who claimed to be her enemy.

She was in shock, Kuja realized. Of course, expecting your lover only to find your enemy was not an event welcomed by most women. Kuja could not help the flash of regret that sliced at his mind. Although he had spent most of his "life" resenting his brother genome, the end of Zidane as the world knew him had struck Kuja as an unique occurrence, one that should not have happened. He did not regret that he had not died in the Lifa Tree, but he sorely bemoaned the loss of such a valiant soul as his brother. The least that he could do was comfort his brother's lover.

"Garnet." She was pale, teetering, on the edge of falling into the abyss. To think that he was the one who had comforted her! She had run to her lover's killer!

A small sound escaped the queen's mouth before she felt the ground coming up to greet her. Darkness clouded her vision and the last thing she saw before fainting was a look of worry on her enemy's face.

AN: You know, every time that I read a fanfiction I notice that there are notes from the author. I haven't really stopped and taken the time to talk to any of you, so I thought that I would do so now. First I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read my little fanfiction. I would also like to thank all of you who have reviewed. Until you've written a fanfiction you can't really appreciate a review. I've started reviewing all of the stories that I read simply because I know how much it means to the author. Trust me, we NEVER look over a review:D

And for those of you who are worried about where this story is going…I'll try to keep it interesting for as long as I can. It's the end of the school year and I've got an uber big research paper due in my English 102 class. /wah But never fear! I shall finish this story!! (I hope! ;;)

And honestly, how many people didn't know that "the impostor" was Kuja:P