Author's Note:

I normally put these at the end so as not to hinder your guys' reading experience, but I just have a couple of things to clarify.

I said last A/N that the story would likely not follow both of their POVs. However, after reading a new romance novel recently, I noticed that many of them do switch POVs, and quite frequently at that. From here on out, each chapter will probably feature a bit of both Seifer and Quistis' POVs, though I may focus more on one than the other, depending on the chapter.

Last, I am well aware that people generally refer to members of the peerage by their title, which usually has an extension. Marquess of Stoneville, Baron Whatever, etc. However, for the sake of me not confusing readers and picking obscure regions off of the game's world map, I'm going to stick with Marquess Almasy, Marquess Leonhart, Duke Kramer, etc. However, the rule with Christian (in this case, Hyne-given) names still stands and only people who are closely acquainted/familiar with one another have the right to call each other by name.

Okay! With that out of the way! Thanks to StarryNight101 and Strings805 for beta-reading. Enjoy!

The ballroom was stifling.

Quistis sat alone in the far corner by the buffet table, hiding behind a gilded room separator in an attempt to blend into the background as much as possible.

Lady Hartley had a rather large ballroom. Normally, it afforded her guests the luxury of forming individual groups in separate areas, allowing them some semblance of privacy. Tonight however, the room was packed to the brim and everyone was standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. Quistis had a hard time finding a group of ladies she could stomach for longer than five minutes and as a result, she'd ended up in the corner, alone.

Also, because of the sheer amount of people in the room, the air had turned humid and thick. Her skin had a light sheen of perspiration on it and she hadn't stopped fanning herself since the moment she'd arrived. What she wouldn't give to step outside for but a moment, but the prospect of a lady heading out into the night unchaperoned would likely send a wave of gossip sweeping through the ton.

Hence, why Quistis had ended up hiding in the corner.

A little belatedly, she realized that she was hungry. That was probably why she gravitated to the corner that was by the food—though she rarely indulged in the provided sustenance at balls; twisting and turning about the room with a full stomach generally made her feel nauseous. However, tonight, she had no intention of dancing with anyone.

Gliding over to the buffet, she reached out with the intent of swiping a small piece of fruit—one piece wouldn't hurt, right? When her fingertips had barely brushed against the smooth skin of a grape, a voice called out to her from behind, and she whirled around.

A flash of dark, chin-length hair caught her eye and when she focused on it, she realized her childhood friend, Xu, had emerged from the crowd, a smile on her face as she approached Quistis. She mirrored her friend's countenance and held her hands out in greeting.

Xu slid her hands into Quistis' grasp and they interlaced fingers as Xu noted, "I didn't think I'd see you here."

With a roll of her eyes, Quistis replied, "My father insisted that I come. I had no plans to originally, so I didn't think I'd see you either."

When Quistis mentioned Viscount Trepe, Xu grimaced and questioned, "Is he still pushing for you to marry sooner rather than later?"

"Pushing is most definitely the right term for it. He's given me six months to find a husband. Or else, he's threatened me with the deplorable life of a governess."

Xu giggled at that and said, "Oh dear...He clearly doesn't know you very well."

The humor in the situation faded and Quistis looked away, absentmindedly watching the couples dancing in the middle of the room. As she watched their graceful movements, she tried to staunch the jealousy that was forming in the pit of her stomach. In a soft voice, tinged with a hint of bitterness, she mumbled, "No, clearly not. How could he? He barely speaks to me as it is."

Xu frowned, her eyebrows lowering in concern as she tightened her fingers around her friend's. Quistis turned back to her and smiled reassuringly as the current song ended, and all the couples on the floor drifted back to the edges of the room.

Xu smiled at Quistis once more and in an attempt to reassure her, suggested, "Perhaps a dance will make you feel better?"

The blonde tried to smile in return but when it failed and ended up looking more like a grimace, opted for, "Perhaps. It's hard to dance when no one has asked you, though."

"No one? Are all the men in the room blind? They'd have to be, to not see your beauty," Xu exclaimed.

"It's not entirely that. I've been...avoiding the possibility all night. I haven't left this corner since I first arrived, so not many men have had a chance to ask, to be honest."

"Whyever have you been hiding?" Xu questioned.

With a resigned sigh, Quistis explained, "I thought I'd spite my father and refuse to dance with a single gentleman tonight. However, by this point in time, I've turned down offers of marriage from nearly every man in the room. I doubt any of them would want to dance with me on principle alone."

Xu raised her fingers and cradled Quistis' wrist in a comforting gesture. "You have standards, Quistis. That's not a bad thing."

"It is when your father wants to marry you off and officially make you someone else's problem," Quistis muttered.

Of course she resented her father for giving her a deadline. It wasn't fair of him to pressure her into making a decision that would affect the rest of her life, in only six months' time. However, in his own twisted point of view, she knew he was doing what he considered to be the best thing for her. Part of her begrudgingly appreciated that about her father, but the bigger part of her was still hurt that he was so anxious to simply...send her off.

It wasn't that she didn't wish to be married at all. She just wanted it to happen under different circumstances; under her own circumstances.

A gentleman with glistening auburn hair appeared out of nowhere and bowed to Quistis and Xu, who curtsied in return. When he held out his hand to them, he must've recognized Quistis from reputation alone because at the last second, he swiveled his arm towards Xu instead. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Xu glanced at Quistis, her face twisted up in an apology for the gentleman's obvious snub. Quistis smiled at her friend to indicate that she was alright and whispered, "Go. Have fun!"

The gentleman took that as a sign of approval and tugged on Xu's hand, leading her out to the center of the ballroom. Xu glanced back over her shoulder at Quistis and mouthed 'forgive me'.

Quistis smiled in reassurance and watched as the couples on the floor lined up across from one another, in traditional form. Someone beside her cleared their throat and she turned to face them, surprised to see a familiar gentleman.

"Baron Dincht!" Quistis exclaimed, folding her leg underneath her in a curtsy.

Baron Dincht, better known as Zell to his close friends, bowed with a jovial smile on his face. "Lady Trepe. It's been some time since I've had the great pleasure of seeing you—at a ball, nevertheless."

A quiet chuckle left Quistis as she replied, "Indeed it has. You've been abroad in Timber, have you not?"

"For some time, yes. I've just returned and heard tale of the ball tonight. Decided to make an appearance at the last second, per a friend's request."

"Balamb is quite far from Deling. When did you return?" Quistis asked.

Zell waved his hand in the air in dismissal and responded, "A week ago. I arrived in town this morning."

After Zell had spoken, the conductor of the orchestra tapped his baton to signal the start of the next set. Out of nowhere, Zell held out his hand and Quistis glanced down at it in astonishment.

"Baron Dincht...what…?" she trailed off uncertainly.

"This dance, may I have it?" he asked in a rush.

"I—"

"Come now, Quisty. You act as if you haven't known me for years. Come on, let's get you out there!" Zell insisted, grabbing her hand and pulling her out onto the ballroom floor as the couples began to dance.

They stepped into line, stumbling a bit before they fell into timing with the rest of the group. Quistis laughed in amusement as they were so obviously out of place in the beginning. To her surprise, it was a genuine, full laugh. Not the short, pretend laughter she'd been offering to people as of late.

"That's the Quistis I know," Zell commented in a quiet voice as he twirled her around.

Quistis smiled up at him, grateful for her friend's attempt at cheering her up. "Thank you...Zell. I...I cannot even begin to express how you came to my rescue tonight."

With a lopsided grin, Zell replied, "That's me: always here to help you crack a smile."

She chuckled and they were silent for the rest of the dance, enjoying each other's company and the freedom of the movement.

Once the music had ended, Zell escorted her back to the edge of the dance floor, though not in her previous corner. Quistis had lost sight of Xu and when Zell moved to step away, she wrung her fingers, suddenly anxious to be standing in full-view of the entire room. As if he sensed that she was alone, he halted in mid-step and retreated, standing beside her again. He folded his arms in front of him and leaned over, staring up into her face. "Quistis, are you alright?" he questioned.

"Y-Yes, I am. I was standing with Lady Xu earlier but...I can't see her now," she mumbled.

"I can stand with you until she returns, if you wish," he offered.

"No, no that's alright. I'll be fine. Go! Enjoy the ball! You've been away for so long, I'm sure you want to dance with others," she insisted.

He stared up at her in concern, his eyebrows furrowed, before he finally inclined his head in an informal bow and moved away from her, disappearing back into the crowd. Once he was gone, Quistis sighed and gave up on trying to find her friend. She glanced to her left and did a double-take, realizing that Zell had dropped her off right by a door leading out to one of the balconies.

A slow smile spread out across her face when she realized that he'd offered to dance with her so that he could do exactly this: drop her off by her freedom. Though their circumstances had kept them apart for the past few years, he really did still know her quite well.

He'd been one of her closest acquaintances when they'd been younger, before he'd left for Balamb Garden—one of the three schools that boys of the gentry attended at the age of nine. In addition to that, Quistis' grandfather had passed away around that time, and her father had taken over the title of Viscount; shortly after, they'd moved to Deling.

Quistis and Zell had corresponded by letter frequently after he'd first left, though as they got older, their lives had gotten in the way and the letters had slowed. She hadn't heard from him since he'd graduated from Garden and left for Timber.

Thank you, Zell.

With a quick glance around the room to ensure no one would see her, she reached over and pushed the balcony door open, wincing as it creaked slightly before it fell silent. Sliding her foot over, she squeezed through the small opening, tugging her skirts roughly when the frills got caught on a loose nail in the doorframe. Once she was outside, the door shut with a soft click.

Seifer watched the couples spin in circles around the room, a scowl planted firmly on his face. He didn't want to be here, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask anyone to dance.

From across the room, he caught his mother's stern glare and shifted in place, looking away from her accusing eyes. She knew very well that he wasn't making an effort, but it wasn't as if he had promised to ask anyone to dance. He'd only promised to show up.

He glanced back up at his parents and that was when he spotted a woman in a powder-blue dress that was adorned with multiple layers of frilly white silk, approaching them. Her hair was pinned up in place by pearly ornaments that twisted the ebony, silky strands into an intricate design. He narrowed his eyes at her, suspecting he knew exactly who she was.

Edea locked eyes with her son and waved him over, insisting that he come join them on the other side of the room. Seifer let out a resigned sigh and walked along the edge of the room, making his way over to his parents. Once he stood beside them, he placed a gentle kiss on his mother's cheek before bowing to the lady in the blue dress. When he straightened, he met her eyes and begrudgingly admitted that yes, she was rather beautiful.

Still didn't mean he wanted to marry her, though.

Edea reached up and placed a hand on her son's upper arm, urging, "Seifer, introduce yourself."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his mother and bowed again, this time stating, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Caraway. I am Marquess Almasy, of Balamb."

The woman curtsied in return, a small smile lifting the corners of her rosy pink lips. "You know my name already! I'm surprised. It's nice to finally meet you, my lord."

Cid waved his hands at the two and said, "Go, dance! Get to know each other!"

Seifer sighed under his breath and held out his arm for his intended, who looped her gloved hand through the crook of his elbow, laying her hand on his forearm. He led her away from his parents, but rather than heading towards the middle of the ballroom, he pulled her towards one of the balconies that lined the outer edge of the room.

"My lord, where are we—"

Seifer interrupted her and explained, "I don't feel like dancing right now. Let's just go talk, hm? Get to know each other as my wonderful parents suggested?"

If Miss Caraway had known Seifer for longer than just a few seconds, she would've known that he was being highly sarcastic. At the moment, 'wonderful' was not a word he'd use to describe the two spawns of the devil that were masquerading as his parents. Parents wouldn't subject their children to forced marriages, no matter how attractive their intended may be.

Seifer glanced out of the corner of his eye at Miss Caraway, who was smiling up at him. Well, at least she doesn't have a hooked nose. That's some sort of relief, I suppose.

They reached the doorway to the balcony and Seifer held it open, leading Miss Caraway through the opening and out into the night.

After Quistis had stepped out onto the balcony, escaping from the crowded ballroom, she'd wandered over to the stone railing that lined the precipice, leaning over the edge and gazing out on Lady Hartley's gardens below.

As she admired the beautiful sight before her, she inhaled deeply, grateful to be breathing in the cool, refreshing air as opposed to the stuffy air inside. It was also blissfully quiet outside; the only sound that Quistis could hear was the light chirping of crickets in the distance.

The Hartleys were well-known in the ton for having a well-manicured, detailed maze in their gardens. Now that she had the opportunity to see it in person, she had to say that the rumors were most definitely right—for once. From above, she could trace the path throughout the maze, from beginning to end. In the very center of the maze, lay a prize for the wanderer who was brave enough to venture inside.

A massive, marble fountain stood in the deepest part of the maze, surrounded by a plethora of colorful blossoms. Lanterns were posted along the inner edge of the centermost sanctuary. Though the flames were enclosed, Quistis couldn't help but wonder if the Hartley's were even worried that their maze could set on fire. After all, accidents could happen. She sincerely hoped that The Hartleys' groundskeeper was assigned to keep a close eye on the gardens, for that very reason.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her gloved hands along the exposed skin of her upper arms. The stars were hard to see from the balcony, much to her disappointment. The mansion was far too lit up tonight, due to the ball.

It was unfortunate, really. If the mansion had been completely dark, it would have been quite the view.

Quistis lowered her eyes, her gaze falling back down to the railing in front of her, though she wasn't exactly focused on staring at it. Now that she was no longer surrounded by the incessant chattering of people, her mind was at rest enough that it began to wander. Inevitably, her thoughts returned to her predicament regarding her impending marriage—though whether it was to an actual groom, in the flesh, or to a life of books and lessons, she couldn't yet say.

Was it truly too much to ask? To want a man who not only thought she was beautiful, but wished to get to know her beyond that? A man who actually enjoyed her company and her wit enough to marry her—despite her strong opinions and slightly unorthodox views on...well, everything. Every man was drawn to her face, but as soon as she attempted to hold a conversation with one, they either shied away at her forward personality or insulted her and turned tail.

She was just a painting, an ornament who would end up on some lucky man's wall.

Tears welled up in her eyes and, frustrated at her uncharacteristic display of emotion, Quistis brushed aside the moisture streaming down her cheeks in frustration.

She'd only been standing outside for a few minutes when she heard the door open again behind her. Whirling around, she spotted a blond gentleman with a raven-haired beauty in tow, making their way out onto the balcony.

Oh Hyne-forbid. What is this, the only balcony?

Frantically, she glanced around the patio and realized that the door they'd just stepped through, served as the only entrance and exit. She couldn't very well dive off the balcony to the gardens below. She'd likely break her neck and though there was some relief at the fact that she wouldn't have to find a husband then, it was greatly overshadowed by the fact that she'd be dead.

Spotting a potted fern, she dove behind the greenery and pulled her skirts tighter around her legs, trying to avoid being seen. Though it was a slim chance that this particular gentleman could be acquainted with her father, the chance still existed. She knew she'd never hear the end of it if word got back to him about her hiding out on the balcony, during a ball—especially one where she was supposed to be trying to find a husband.

The couple wandered over to the very same balcony she'd been leaning against only moments before, and the gentleman leaned on his elbow casually, as he smiled down at the woman who was obviously enjoying his charms.

Oh for the love of...this could be some time…

Seifer smiled down at Miss Caraway politely and started the conversation with, "So Miss Caraway, you and your father live here in Deling?"

For some reason, at the mention of her father, Miss Caraway's smile tightened and she replied, "I used to live here. I'm staying in Timber now, with a cousin. However, during the season, I return to Deling and stay with my father."

"I see. Why Timber?" Seifer questioned.

"My mother's family is from Timber. I have many childhood memories there, and it's really quite gorgeous. Have you ever been? If you haven't, I'd highly suggest you—"

Seifer interrupted the lady, worried that if he let her continue, she'd talk the entire night. "I have, yes. Once or twice. It is beautiful indeed."

Miss Caraway smiled at the compliment to her current town of habitance and prompted, "What about you, Marquess Almasy? Do you reside in Balamb, like your title dictates?"

"I do."

At his lack of offering personal information, Miss Caraway faltered as she tried to find a new subject to choose in order to carry on the conversation. Seifer shifted uncomfortably as they stood there in silence, and he broke eye contact, gazing down at the maze below the balcony.

Impressive. Hyne, it's not a good sign if I've only been speaking to the lady for a total of ten minutes and already my attention is wavering.

Miss Caraway spoke softly, pulling Seifer's attention back to her. "You...You don't want to marry me...do you, my lord?"

"I never said that, Miss Caraway. I simply...I have no desire to marry at all. It has nothing to do with you," he explained.

"I see. Is there anything I can do to change your mind? To...To help you like me more? Enjoy my company more?" she questioned.

Seifer knew she meant well but the tone of her questions made it sound like she was begging and it set his nerves on edge. Without meaning to, he snapped, "No. Let's talk about something else other than our impending marriage, please."

Miss Caraway's warm brown eyes fell to the ground and she fiddled with her hands, avoiding meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"You didn't. I just would rather talk about something else," Seifer responded. With a sigh, he continued on to ask, "What do you enjoy doing in your free time, Miss Caraway?"

"Rinoa."

Seifer glanced at the woman, his eyebrows lowered in confusion. "Sorry?"

"My name—it's Rinoa. If we're to be husband and wife someday, you should be familiar with calling me by my given name, right? Oh no, I've done it again. I'm so sorry. You just finished saying that you had no desire to speak about our marriage and I've gone and insinuated just that. Forgive me, Lord Almasy."

Seifer blinked at her in shocked silence. She'd managed to do exactly what he'd just asked her not to do, and broken custom by calling him something other than his actual title—all within fifteen seconds. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be struck with the realization that he had absolutely no idea what to say. A fresh wave of frustration swept over him and he closed his mouth with a snap, afraid he'd say something he didn't mean.

Finally, when he felt that he'd contained his sudden moodswing, he settled for, "I think...I think I should head back inside, Miss Caraway. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

With that, he pivoted sharply on his heel and strode over to the door, leaving Miss Caraway out on the balcony alone.

Poor girl...he wasn't exactly the nicest gentleman, was he? Quistis remarked.

As soon as the door shut behind him, the woman who was apparently named Rinoa Caraway sprinted after him—well, as much as a lady in a billowing ball gown could sprint—and yanked the door open again, rushing back inside.

Quistis let out a long sigh and stepped out from behind the plant, smoothing her skirts. The peaceful environment of the balcony was now ruined and she was sure that if she tried to relax again, someone would just come and interrupt her once more. She glanced back inside, realizing that she no longer wished to be here. Granted, she hadn't in the first place, but now, she really wanted to go home.

Unfortunately, her father had thought ahead and the carriage would not be here to take her home until the ball had ended. By the looks of things, that wouldn't be for another few hours. She clenched her jaw and shifted her eyes to the right, spotting the maze again. With a quizzical tilt of her head, she admired the centermost part of the maze, thinking to herself how calming it looked.

Calming, peaceful...solitary.

With newfound determination, she spun around and rushed back inside.

Elbowing her way through the crowd, she made her way towards the front door and raced out onto the grounds, taking a hard right to head to the gardens. As she ran, she bundled her skirts up in her hands, gaining speed once her ridiculously enormous dress was no longer in the way.

Once she stood just in front of the maze's entrance, she rested her gloved hand against the pruned edge of the maze wall, trying to catch her breath. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that no one had followed her outside, so she slid through the opening and disappeared into the bowels of the labyrinth.

Luckily, she'd memorized the path when she'd stared at it earlier, from the vantage point on the balcony.

She wound her way through the intricate walkways, trailing her fingers along the hedges as she turned blind corners in confidence. After roughly fifteen minutes, she could hear the gentle gurgle of the water in the fountain and smiled in anticipation. Soon after, she emerged in the center of the maze and froze in place, rocking back onto her heels.

The lustrous, ebony material of the back of a gentleman's tailcoat glistened in the dim glow of the lanterns that lined the clearing. His head was bowed, but she could see that he had blonde hair that was somewhat unconventional in length. The boots he wore were a clear indicator of his station, for the Estharian style was commonly shined to perfection. True to form, this man's boots were so glossy, she could practically see the reflection of the stars above on their onyx surface.

As if she'd forgotten how to greet members of the gentry, Quistis blurted out, "Who are you?"

A/N: Wow, thank you all for the reviews, favs and follows! I'm pleasantly surprised at the reception of this AU. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!

See you next chapter!