Crimson Rain

by The God Slayer

Decades after the planet has finally known peace, through great sacrifice and struggle, something ancient and sinister stirs beneath the surface. A mad man rises with power the world thought was extinct and declares war on the planet, igniting a turn in history millenniums in the making.

2. Damned if I Do, Damned if I Don't!

Notes: Thank you all for the reviews to this chapter and all the others! Reviews keep my passion burning! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I will continue to push myself to make this the best it can be!

Damned if I do, Damned if I don't

Emma had spent the night returning to Figaro after her confrontation with Alexander reading through her vast storage of novels that fell into the genre of mystery and revenge, but could not find a single thing to do—that wasn't lethal or sure to get her sent away—to teach her brothers a lesson for constantly undermining her character to people or even in front of her. They had set Alexander up only to see her fall. Did they really believe she was nothing more than a babe? Why did they do this to her? Did someone question their maturity when they were little and they were just repaying it to the next generation, or was there something she was doing that was earning the accusations of being a child?

I'm thirteen, she thought, watching her roof as the thoughts of the chapter she just finished still fluttered about her head. Clearly gluing her brothers' mouths shut like what Havir did in Twenty Mistakes was too severe even for her brothers. That isn't a child's age...is it? She sighed and sat her book down beside her on the comfy silks of her bed. Perhaps she could shave their heads while they slept! No, they would surely wake to that...oh! She sat up with a gasp. I'll disorganize their study notes! She giggled triumphantly for a second until she realized her brothers neither took notes nor cared for the order in which they were stored, and then she frowned and dropped back into her bed. If only there was something she could do. I'm tired of their games and jokes...why do I always have to be part of it?

She glanced toward her window, open to the outside, and watched the storm pound against the glass angrily. The sky was dark as night and the lightning that popped in every few seconds lit the sky so fiercely she could see the other tower connected to the castle's eastern wall. Today was meant to be a study day at the academy but the storm had flooded streets and created havoc further out near the schools. She heard a guard say that a sandstorm was sure to follow or a tornado. She was so excited for the last part. She had never seen a tornado before and after three sandstorms she had enough. Maybe the day wouldn't be so boring after all!

She got up to put her book away and then hurried over to the window, hoping to spot a funnel forming in the distance through the lit up sky, but all she saw were shadows and veins of white dash across the shadows and horizon. She gave up thirty minutes in, realizing a tornado was unlikely to form so close to the Figaro's capital or even the castle. If one was to form, it certainly would be further west or south. She turned away from the window with another sigh and glanced around the room for anything to do. Her father had said she had to read for an hour or two, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Her piano sat in the corner but she couldn't use it. Her father would certainly hear it and come running to catch her in defiance first handed. Her eyes skimmed over it to her flute collection hanging off the wall in a glass box and then skipped it for the same reason until her eyes fell art supplies. She decided it was better than nothing, so she sat down near her bed and lit several more candles so she could see and began. At first she didn't know what to draw; she doodled mindlessly. Until her thoughts carried over to the academy and the people she did not want to see, and then she started drawing some of the faces of her tormentors.

Kysle was first, wiry and mean, and then his friends and then, to her surprise, she began drawing her oldest brother's face. She stopped, staring at it in anger and confusion. With a scowl she started drawing over the face, tearing the page, until all that was left was rips, bends and a block of black chalk. She ripped the page out of the book and then ripped it a part. How dare her brothers! If she did this to them they would get their parents to beat her until she couldn't sit! They would get their parents to send her off! Tears burned in her eyes as she threw the paper away. "I hate you!" she hissed, covering her eyes. "I hate you so much...!"

The sound of the rain dulled her anger and she eventually knuckled away the remaining tears to shuffle around under her mattress for her journal. She opened a fresh page and began writing, letting her frustrations and pain lead her hand until the pages filled one by one and the hour grew later. She didn't even notice how long she had been writing until she heard a quiet knock on the door and her mother's voice.

"Emma, sweety? What are you doing in there? We haven't seen you nearly all day." Emma gasped and hid the journal away before hurrying over.

"I am reading, mother." she quickly ran to retrieve her book when the door started opening. When her mother came in, she was already seated on her bed with Twenty Mistakes on her lap.

"You are still reading? Dear, your mandatory time was up over three hours ago. Put that thing down and come down to eat supper."

She was more than grateful to stop. She followed her mother downstairs into the great hall. Her father was too busy scolding her brothers for something to notice they appeared but as soon as he did he clamped his mouth shut and said, "Emma! Heavens girl...I said an hour of reading, not six."

Emma blushed when her brothers called her a suck up. "I just f-f-forgot about the time..." she caught sight of her brother and felt a heat of anger wash over her. She pushed it down quickly and took a seat at the end of the table. She looked around the table quietly as her mother served the food and wondered what they had been talking about for her father to disagree with his sons and then chide them. She half wanted to ask and half wanted to continue acting like she hadn't heard what she did.

Her curiosity won though. She looked at her father, ignoring her green beans. "Father?" He glanced up at her from his plate. "What...what were you all t-t-talking about?"

Her brothers glowered as their father answered, though extremely reluctantly. "Imperials, dear..."

Her eyes twinkled. History! And what's more, it was something very rarely discussed in the castle. "Really? About what?"

"Nothing that should concern you," he said, eating.

She deflated. "But...but why not?"

"Because that discussion was between me and your brothers—it was for our matured ears only." he paused. "There will be a time when—"

"We were talking about Doma hanging Imperial soldiers they found," Benjamin cut in quickly, earning a quick "quiet!" from his father. Emma's eyes widened.

"Doma hung people?" she asked, surprised. Gau would never allow that...

Terra looked at her with a regretful expression. "They did...but it stopped. It was a mistake Gau regrets."

Edgar offered a comment on it as well. "No matter. Imperialist material is banned and the mistakes have been done and unable to be changed. There is no need discussing it, especially not to a child," he said pointedly, glaring at his sons. "Now let us get back to supper, please." and that was the end of the discussion. It wasn't for Emma, though. She ate and went to sleep thinking about Imperials and finally came up with a good idea on how to mess with her brothers and tormentors.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

In the morning she found the storms to be less than what they were but still strong enough to deter study and her parents. She finished up her reading and half studies in her room before she hurried down stairs and across the corridor to the western portion of the castle, where the grand library sat. Once instead she made sure no one was inside before she dug through the shelves for anything related to Imperialist ideas and all that was in sympathy for the Empire, put them in her leather bag and bound out of the library before anyone could find her.

It was harder to get out of the castle during a storm and later into the day, near sunset, without the soldiers catching her but when she finally managed to slip under the gaze of a soldier into the rainy haze of the storm, she was relieved. If her father caught her doing this...oh he would be sure to beat her silly! The fear of her father nearly choked out the last of her strength and she stopped in the middle of a cobbled street to glance back at the outer wall to the castle and the dim light of the torches men held at the towers.

I came this far...she thought, turning and heading down the road toward Golden Lion academy. The stony steps on the back exit of the academy was still unlocked, probably due to professors leaving late, or so she hoped because she knew that if a professor caught her or night security it would get her expelled, which would infuriate her father. As she crept down the halls the further she went the more confident she became that it was truly vacant.

Daring, she cleared her throat and said, "Hello?" her voice echoed but no reply came. Content with the outcome, she hurried to Kysle's locker first. It was six down from hers but unlocked. He did not care to lock it as he didn't expect anyone would dare to do anything like this to him. She giggled as she dropped Imperial Standards, Issue four, into his locker and then did the same to his friends with different Imperial material until she stood before her older brother's locker. She lifted the book to slide into his but stopped halfway.

She sighed and then stuffed the book back into her bag. She couldn't do it, not to her brother, no matter how much he annoyed her or he hated her. She scowled at it though as if it were him and then shook her head. There would be another way to get back at her brother, she was sure.

"Who is in here?"

She panicked and dashed down the halls toward the back exit. She thought she heard footsteps behind her and nearly threw herself outside onto the ground. She waited for the sound to dull before she got to her feet and hurried away, her heart beating unbelievably fast.

••••••••••••

When she finally got back the storm had weakened and her parents went sniffing for her. She was soaking wet and didn't know what to say to them when they caught her dripping along the halls shivering. Her father suspected, in some part of him, she knew but he did not press his worries and instead scolded her for going out into the rain 'in her condition!' while her mother took off her over shirt and draped it over her daughter's shoulders.

"What were you thinking Emma? You could catch a cold!"

"I'm sorry," she offered through chattering teeth and a frown. Her father glowered, fingers twitching at the ready to give her a punishment. She ducked her head so that she did not agitate his fickle temper any further.

"Your apologies mean nothing now," he said quietly, ignoring the glare his wife shot at him. "Get up to your room and get into something dry. Your mother and I shall think on a suitable punishment for you."

She sighed. "Yes, father..." she hurried down the hall, holding her mother's over shirt over her shoulders as she did so.

Edgar shook his head. "That girl...she is getting rowdier every day."

Terra looked at him with equal disappointment in her eyes. "It was rain Edgar, not hell fire." she rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving him stumped and stuttering.

By her room Emma nearly ran right into her brother as he came around the corner too quickly. She fumbled back and nearly went down hard if it had been for the table near her. He frowned at her. "Why are you soaking wet?"

"None of your b-b-business!"

His frown deepened. "Oh..." it turned into a sly smile. "You went out, didn't you?"

Her eyes flared in anger. "So what?!"

"Do our parents know of your disobedience? I'll go check."

"Do what you want!" she snapped, shoving by him and retreating into her room with a hard slam of the door. She heard her brother walk up to the door and leaned against it, as if her wait could stop him somehow from getting into the room.

"Just tell me where you were and maybe I won't say anything to them." Emma puffed angrily. As if she had to! As if he were king yet! He is nothing more than a boy! She thought angrily. His pressed his question again and she prickled.

"I don't have to tell you anything! Not yet!"

There was a long pause and the silence choked at her, until at last she heard her brother laugh. His voice was muffled through the door. "Oh...I understand what is happening here. You are jealous father picked me instead of you, right?" she was afraid to say 'no' because it might have come out as a shrilly cry. "Not that it matters now but are you not curious as to why father only ever considered me or Benjamin?"

She listened carefully, trembling in fear of what would be said. He waited for the appropriate amount of silence, to indicate she was not going to say anything, and then he sighed. "It is because you are a child, Emma, barely out of your rearing years. Even if your age was somehow not a problem, you are. You stomp your feet and cry for whatever you want whenever the situation arises. You know how to get your way out of our parents, especially out of father as of late, as the poor fool can barely say no to you. And mother? Mother knows you are still her baby, needing to be pampered and nurtured."

Tears were burning in her eyes by then. Was any of it true? Surely not even her mother...

"Do you know what I was doing at your age Emma? At first I was thinking about the Antlion celebration. I was thirteen and ready to show the kingdom that I was an adult, however I was devastated; I was not to compete, not for many years. I was not to become a man by tradition, but do you know why I was considered an adult even though I didn't compete? I acted like one. Something you apparently cannot understand. All you know is how to act like a child and I do not see it changing any time soon. So think on that for a while...maybe the next time you are ready to stamp your feet and put on your tears you will consider something important—do you want to change or stay the way that you are?"

"I am not a c-c-child!"

"Yes you are, by age and by your actions. Until you can show a shred of responsibility, of traits adults possess, no one will treat you as anything but a child."

He started walking away and her blood boiled fiercer. "I am not a child!" she screamed again.

Her brother sighed. "Whatever you say Emma..."

As his footsteps started to dull into the distance, she dropped onto her floor beside the door and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'm not...I'm not."

••••••••••••

Cambyses knew by the look in her eyes she had broken some rule or another and that his parents had already found her (she would have made it clear otherwise), but he felt the need to dig deeper into what she had really been doing and he knew the best way to do that was to threaten her with snitching, even if she was already in trouble. She wasn't very thoughtful at that point when her anger got the best of her, otherwise she would have just ignored him.

And then after finding out she was jealous of their father's decision he could hear the tone at the edge of her voice suggesting she had done something else, but unable to find out he dismissed it and left her alone after her tantrum to seek out his father.

He found him in the study, reading some dusty tome. He had his glass of wine in his free hand as he read. Cambyses approached quietly, not wishing to disturb him so swiftly. However, as soon as he sat, his father frowned. "What are you doing up so late, son?"

"I actually wanted to talk to you about Emma." His father made a sound of acknowledgement, indicating to continue. "It concerns the crown, too."

"Oh?" at this his father's brows raised, as did his eyes. It took matters concerning either his daughter or the crown, or both, to make his father stop reading. "And what could possibly be discussed that concerns both?"

Camb took a breath. He knew if he did not present this right, his father would assume and get furious. "Emma is upset that I was picked as your heir, father..."

Edgar sighed, heavily, eyes distant with some thought he was not going to share. "Your mother and I are very much aware of her disappointment in the decision, but she must learn not everything can or will be handed to her simply because she wants it. I am terrified that we have spoiled her, stealing away her motivations and responsibilities out of fear of her illness or guilt of not being able to raise her as we have you and your brother, but no more—she will not grow into an intelligent young woman without the motivation or responsibility to use it. I have put my foot down."

Cambyses nodded, not really in disagreement. "Normally I would not mind her tantrums father, but she has been avoiding me and Ben since the annual dinner was dismissed, and has been snappy since. Why, just earlier she completely lost her temper on me for absolutely no reason." he decided to leave out what he thought she was doing outside of the castle.

Edgar looked at him, confusion in his eyes. "What exactly are you getting at, Cambyses? I do not follow."

"Well, I was thinking about it and wanted to know if you could take her someplace? Particularly far away?"

His father's face went white and he sat up, hands gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned ghastly pale. "What did you just say? I thought I told you that I never want to hear this from you again?"

He quickly lifted his hands in defense. "What? No, father, that isn't what I mean! I just meant that you could take her on a trip, just between you two, so that you can talk to her about it, explain it all to her. As far away as possible, because it would mean she's far away from the troubles here. If she continues on like this she will be exactly what you feared..."

Edgar immediately calmed down, heaving a sigh that released all of the anger he had built up. "I would love to Cambyses, but she has been avoiding me as well."

Cambyses chuckled. "I'm sure you will think of something, father. You adore her too much not to try."

---

In the morning Edgar tiredly made his way down to the great hall, yawning and rubbing tears from the corner of his eyes as he arrived. His wife was preparing their customary morning tea—he didn't have the heart to tell her he hated tea—and their morning bread before breakfast would be served. He sat himself in his chair with an 'aah' of relief just as she turned to place his tea and bread before him.

"Are the children up yet?" he asked, not looking up as he reached for the morning's paper, left for him by his lovely wife. She shook her head.

She took a seat with a sigh of sadness. "Benny has gone off with Sabin and his boys for training—I did not see Zellum, either—while Cambyses took Cadence into the capital for a...a romantic getaway, I think." she seemed confused by something but Edgar did not want to press her. Even after decades of adjustment, she still had problems understanding some things people did, like keep secrets or do things like constantly go out on 'dates' if they already loved each other. "And Emma...the girl just won't get up, Edgar. It is so unlike her. She is usually up by five am trying to snatch sweets out of the basket as if I can't hear or see her."

Edgar chuckled and reached over to take her hand. "I shall wake her, then...Terra?" she hmm'd him as she sipped at her tea. "Do you think Emma would find it agreeable to leave with me today, for the southern beaches?" when his wife looked at him in confusion, he explained with, "I would like to get her away from the castle to talk to her about the annual dinner, since she has been ignoring me. I thought a day out, learning how to swim, would be a good opportunity to talk."

"I think that if you ask her and let her know it will just be you two, she might just go, but you know how she can be...it will be difficult."

Edgar chuckled. "You are certainly right..." he loved that about her, yet it was often the thing that he wished would just change. Her stubbornness was good when it came to progress, but when it came to defying them or talking back, it was a mess. "Well, I suppose I will not know until I try." he rose. "Will you be off to see Suon and Hals?"

Terra sighed. "I would like to put it off for today, but I know I can't."

"Oh, come on now...those men adore you." Edgar leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Just try not to win my men over too much, my sweet." she giggled before wishing him luck. Edgar then made his way to his daughter's room.

When he made it up the stairs and before her door, he paused to think on the past when he saw the elegant writing on the door. It was written in classic Figaron, almost flowery in its design even without his daughter's personal touches. The door quite clearly said "Emma's room! Do not enter!". He smiled as he recalled the first day she had come to Figaro and picked out this room, long ago.

He and his wife had walked her around the floor, showing her all of the empty rooms, but as soon as she found out this one flowered only a few doors after her brothers (and over the garden) she had become attached to it. He reached up to touch the carving she made into the door, suddenly frowning. It made him wonder if she did it to remind everyone she was coming home or that she existed...or maybe it was a reminder for herself.

He sighed. Sometimes he wish he could rewind the years back to a simpler, nicer time, when she was just an ecstatic six year old or a slightly loud eight year old girl running through the castle or gardens, screaming or giggling or chasing someone (particularly her brothers when they refused to play with her). She played, drew, read, giggled and was still scared of monsters under her bed or even in her closet...she was still his baby. Even when she asked her thousand and one questions or showed her unique intelligence. He wanted nothing more than to see that darling face again, to see her as she was then, clearly happier and easier to please and easier to handle.

He reached for the doorknob then with a beaten sigh and opened it quietly, only then remembering to knock from all the times she barged into his study yelling that her brothers repeatedly entered her room against her wishes or without even announcing themselves, or worse, when he was in bed with his wife. She would just burst into the shouting that her brothers were doing this and that, without ever stopping to see that she had done just the same thing to them.

It amused him a lot of the times, but mostly he found it worrying. Well, it was too late now, in any regard. He peaked into the room and saw that the window was drawn close and she was lying across the bed in clear exhaustion. She wasn't even covered. He approached slowly, brows furrowing. "Emma? Dear?" she did not stir. He went over to lift her out of the bed, not at all pleased at how light weight she was, and then pushed aside the blankets. "Really now..." he muttered, lying her down and covering her. How many times had he told her she must not overwork herself.

Terra had promised him with due time she would adjust, that she would listen more, but he was beginning to think that day may never come. He leaned down to kiss her forehead before he wished her a good sleep and then left her room as quietly as he had entered.

When he located his wife again, she was out in the court yard with Suon and Hals, directing the new recruits in their oaths to the Crown. It was always easier for Terra to handle them, as she instilled in them a confidence entirely different than what Edgar could manage. While he was quick with his tongue and words, sharp and intelligent, Terra was soft and understanding with her own kind of wisdom, all of which people responded to better.

He smiled from the balcony at the sight of the new recruits fumbling over themselves for the queen of Figaro. He watched for a moment before heading down to greet her. Terra caught sight of him immediately, and without their daughter. "Where is Emma?"

"She was asleep," he said, very much aware that he sounded extremely disappointed. "I did not have the heart to wake her, not with such a precious face." Terra giggled as she took his arm. "Perhaps I can try again in the morning, or at the end of the week, but for now I must be off—lords and and their bannermen will not work out their own problems, I'm afraid. Would you mind keeping our daughter within castle grounds, until I am free to talk with her? I shan't be held over more than sunset, I suspect."

Terra leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I will try Edgar. Off you go, my lord husband." he chuckled at her choice of words before bowing to her and leaving her to her work.

••••••••••••

She was awoken quite rudely in the morning by a stream of sunlight through her open window. She squinted, utterly annoyed, and lifted a hand to blotch out the window until her eyes could painlessly adjust. She blinked several times and then, satisfied that the light did not burn so much, threw aside her blankets and glanced over at her grandfather clock. Her eyes widened. It was so late in the morning! Why hadn't anyone tried to wake her? She was so late to the academy, surely her parents would be furious with her?

She didn't even have time to get angry over the obvious fact that someone had entered her room without permission and left the curtain open only to let her sleep in. She tore through her chest for her uniform, hoping it had been washed while she slept. When she found the secondary attire, a skirt and blouse meant for fancier events at the school, as the only uniform she sighed. It would not be against the rules to arrive dressed like it, but she knew she would be endlessly teased for it by the other students. She decided she had no other option and hurried to wash herself, glad when the water ran hot. It meant her brothers either got up especially earlier or never took their portion of the hot water.

When she was through, she went into her room to dry and prepare her hair. Halfway through completing her braid, her mother knocked on the door. "Emma? Are you finally awake, dear?" before she could offer so much as a 'no!' the door opened and her mother came in, obvious to the situation.

"Mother!" she gasped, appalled as she held the towel tighter, extremely self conscious all of the sudden.

"I was beginning to think you would never wake!" she said dramatically, hurrying over to plant a motherly kiss on her cheek, holding her in place. "You missed breakfast, you know."

"I know...and I'm g-g-going to hurry to Sunset, I promise."

"What?" Terra asked, brows furrowing. "Why would you go to the academy? The Antlion celebration is beginning, and study days have been cut in half, though even if it were not, your academy has shut itself down for investigation."

Her eyes widened, proudly. "They have? Why?"

"The security found Imperial material in some storages of some kids. They suspect it was added as an attempt to frame them, but the Dean is suspicious some of them may be authentic. Under Figaro law he is not allowed to continue study days until they know the merit of the threat. Anyone caught to be engaging in Imperialist ideals will be handled."

Suddenly the prank fell short of all expectations. She felt fear bubble within her. Oh thank the gods she hadn't put on in her brothers' lockers! What would happen to the others, though? Would they be hung for a crime they didn't truly commit, all because of her? She swallowed back a cry. "They...they aren't g-g-going to be h-hung, are they?"

Terra looked at her in confusion for a moment, and then remembering the discussion she had walked in on, she laughed nervously. "No! Emma, no! We do not handle such things like that. Thinking like an Imperial is not going to get anyone harmed, let alone throw into a cell. We only take measures against people orchestrating a coupe, or a rebellion to build another Empire. Even if these kids wanted to be an Imperial, they have the free will to think however they want."

Relief flooded through her. But why had Gau handled Imperial uprisings before with hangings? What had happened to require such drastic measures in the first place and then to utterly remove it in less than a two decades? Whatever happened though, she was unbelievably grateful!

Her mother noticed her change of mood with a worried smile. "Emma, dear? Are you okay? Oh, you should come downstairs so I can cook you something to eat and heavens girl! What are you doing in that towel? You could very well catch a cold! Go put something on." her scolding made Emma gape. Did she not realize she interrupted her morning tasks? She grumbled and nodded, and once her mother was gone, hurried to her chest for new attire. If she didn't have to attend the academy today, she would where whatever she wanted.

She found what she wanted; a white skirt, just a little higher than her knees and flowy at the ends, with a matching sleeveless blouse. She found her favorite pair of sandals, the color of ivory, and strapped them on with a girlish smile on her face. A free day, and all because of the stupid Antlion celebration! Why, maybe there was some good to it for her after all.

She was in such high spirits that when she raced down to the great hall and was promptly greeted by a tasteless paste her mother called oatmeal she did not sour. She ate it happily, thinking of the things she could do. Her father seemed to be out of the castle, which mean her mother would allow her to go or do as she pleased, should it be appropriate and safe. Her mother noticed the happiness with a smile.

"Why are you in such a good mood today, my little angel?"

Emma smiled at her mother. "I just am." she finished her oatmeal a few minutes later and drank all of her orange juice even quicker, which made her mother scowl in disapproval. "Mother, may—may I go into town today?"

That caught Terra by surprised. "What in heavens for?"

"I want—want to see the Grand Library's collection."

Terra giggled. "Our library is largest on the planet, next to Ser Malcolm Owzer from Jidoor, dear. What could the Grand Library have that we do not?"

"Master Valroyais said he had a thousand new books! Can you believe it mother? A thousand new books! Freshly printed, too!" she had never read a book new. Thamasa was so far out that it took months to order supplies and months longer for them to be collected and shipped across the globe! She was lucky if she got a newspaper new. "Oh, could I please go mother? Please? I will behave, I promise!"

Unable to say no to her darling daughter, Terra laughed. "Alright, you may go." Emma was so happy she could dance! "One one condition." that happiness deflated quickly. "You must bring your escort with you, all twenty four of them and you must purchase some of the items needed for the celebration events."

"But...but I just want to go into town. Why...why do I need guards?"

At this Terra crossed her arms in motherly stubbornness. "You know the rules."

"But why? Camb and Ben do not need guards!"

Terra's posture relaxed a bit and she put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Why? Must you ask this when the world is as it is, Emma? This world is full of men and women who would just as easily hurt you as breathe; bandits, murderers, pirates, mercenaries, saboteurs and the like—not to mention monsters!—roam this land just as much as the sane ones. You should know this by all of the books you have read, all of the tests on history and all the horrible things that have happened, and yet you ask me why?"

"But—"

"There will be none of that," Terra cut in sharply. "Either you agree to the conditions or you may stay within the castle until your father returns to explain to you why rules exist." How could her day get so sour? She thought she would have some time to herself, for once, to do as she wanted like her brothers always got to do. She was so angry that she hadn't noticed her mother staring at her suddenly pale face. "Emma, dear! You're pale! Are you okay? Do you need something to eat, to drink?" she reached for her daughter's hand only to have her had slapped away.

"I don't want them with me! I want to go by myself!"

"Emma—"

"I don't care what you think will happen! I just want out!"

"Emma Aden Aria Figaro!" Terra shouted, unaware that some of the maids stopped to stare for a second before continuing on with their tasks. "You will be quiet this instance and listen to me!"

"No! I don't want them around me anymore! I don't want to—" this time Terra reached out to take her hand and drag her out of view of the staff, into the pantry. "Young lady I will not have you disrespect me in front of the staff! You will apologize right now!" whereas many other mothers would have slapped her before everyone for her behavior, her mother was not very keen on spanking or physical punishment. She believed a direct, emotional appeal would work just as good as a swat on the ass or cheek. In many ways Emma was grateful her mother didn't have the same kind of temper others had. She knew instantly she had erred and that she would pay for it.

Emma had long since gotten used to the spankings when she was little, or the sit-at-the-corner punishments to even the 'now you get no toys or fun' time outs, to the occasional slap. She understood it was how a naughty kid was disciplined, and knew sometimes she even needed them, whenever she did something truly bad (like now). No matter what though, she never backed down, or at least that's how her father describe her attitude as—disobedient, tardy and full of smart ass comments.

"She is a Figaro, that is all," her father had said countless times at her "stubbornness" after punishments, or lack of change despite them. Sometimes she had caught her parents talking about how different she was from other kids, such as her difficulties to do things other kids, sometimes even younger children, could do easily. They talked about her physical differences too, though less often, and whenever it was brought up it was always always followed by a comparison to her brothers. "The differences between our sons and daughter are stark, Terra." her father had said many times as well, unaware she was just around a corner or hidden behind something, listening carefully. One time she heard her father ask her mother if they had done the wrong thing and to this day Emma still was unsure of what he meant.

For the longest time she couldn't understand why she was being punished, until she had heard her parents compare her to her brothers. She had cried herself to sleep that night, waking with determination to become more like her brothers, so that she would never make her parents so disappointed, so that they could be proud of her for once. It was difficult though, because trying only seemed to make it worse, and to try to understand what she was doing wrong she foolishly asked them "why this and that" or "how come this and that". It only made them furious. They would tell her it was unacceptable to question the whys and hows of parental guidance, that pointing out other people's peculiarities was socially and emotionally unacceptable or why she wasn't allowed to participate in adult or most matters in society.

And then came the bullying. She had started at Cambridge Academy for the Gifted at eight, due to the interference of the Council (concerned with her 'idiocy' they had said) and was almost instantly bullied and insulted for her she looked, acted and spoke. It was another thing she couldn't understand, until she watched other girls her age playing with dolls and tea seats and dressed in large, itchy dressed, and kept their mouths shut when it came to adults or boys. The proper girls. And proper girls did not look like "fat goblins". The first time she was told she was as ugly as Basilisk she cried herself dry of tears all the while looking into a mirror and suddenly seeing everything wrong with her.

Her mother would never understand. Emma knew that despite sharing the same hair color (her hair was paler green though) her mother never had to face the cruelty of children, teenagers or disapproving adults, all who looked at her like she was nothing more than a monster that strode into a castle and put on the clothes of a true princess.

With the life she faced she didn't want to apologize to her mother because she felt she didn't say anything wrong. She felt that her mother should apologize, for everything she had ever said in secret, for the feelings she believed her mother to truly feel towards her. All of her incomprehensible actions came rushing back to Emma's mind and her temper flared again. No. She shouldn't apologize. Not to anyone.

"Emma," her mother's gentle tone urged her forward, toward the obedience she was expected to have. "Young lady, right now or you are grounded."

She tightened her hands into fists knowing that she had no power to defy her parents, or anyone for that matter. A child. That's what she was and would be, forever, if her parents had a say in it. Her temper began to subside as she came to realize being grounded or punished would very well prolong her step toward freedom, toward adulthood. And so she caved. "I'm sorry." the words came out dry in an attempt to keep herself from releasing the tears she could feel lingering in the back of her mind. "I'm sorry..."

Terra's expression instantly lifted up into the same old happy expression she usually wore. She really was a sweet woman, especially as a mother. She hated punishing her children, but she knew children grew into tireless youngsters without discipline that taught them right from wrong and the distinct differences that laid between. "That's my princess," she said brightly, soothingly. "I know the soldiers frustrate you dear, I know it, but you mean too much to me to let you walk about unprotected. You are frail and young, and unable to defend yourself, and for that I will always place guards around you. Can't you understand this from our perspective?"

I am, she thought. The leftover of the great and deadly illness she had when she was young, from times she could barely remember or not at all. I am weak and pathetic and useless... The same threat of tears came again but she managed to hold them back. "It won't be like this forever Emma, I promise. One day...things will be different. You will have a lord husband of your own, a lord of some great house or even a ser, who will walk by you every day to protect you, through the streets or whatever your feet may guide you. There will be no danger for you."

All of that is impossible for me, she wanted to tell her mother. "May I go now?"

The smile faded from her mother's lips, disappointed she could not reach her daughter emotionally, to support her. "You may. The soldiers will have a carriage drawn for you, as well. Oh, and captain Wren will accompany you." at this she gestured for maid and whispered for her to get Wren. "Now, for our supplies, Isle Landing should have our orders ready. Master Orinik will get what is needed."

Emma frowned. Ours? It isn't 'ours', it is Camb and Ben's decorations and supplies. The simple clarification would have sent her to her room though, the last place she wanted to be today. She also knew there wasn't any room for objections with her mother, even if she didn't wish to be a part of her brothers' superiority competition. Her mother would never yield. "Alright, mother."

A moment later captain Wren appeared, dressed in a handsome rich blue gambeson with light silver armor over his arms, legs and shoulders. A typical captain's sword, long and delicate in appearance for deception, hung from a leather scabbard at his waist, and tucked under one arm was his steel sallet, decorated softly around the ridges with twisted patterns. His hair was reddish brown and despite being short, braided.

She sighed upon seeing his face. Wren had been sent to Thamasa when she was around six years old and had practically become her shadow for the next four years, until he returned to Figaro for family issues, though he was promptly promoted to captain. His replacement had been a cold, silent man with a stern expression and an even greater lack of impatience for unruly girls.

Wren smiled at her. "It has been quite a while, hasn't it princess? Let's see...when was it?"

"I was eight!"

He chuckled. "And yet you are barely any taller."

Emma was ready to give him a sharp reply if it had been for the fact that her mother quickly interrupted. "Captain, please be sure to keep her in your sights at all times. She is to be allowed to the Grand Library, or whatever place she wishes to stop to, as well as Isle Landing for the celebration supplies, after which she is to be returned here—before the sunset."

Wren bowed his head. "As you wish, my queen, she will be here." he straightened to look at Emma, who was busy trying to ignore him. "Are you ready to leave, princess?" She hurried by, clearly angry, and he chuckled before he followed after the princess, hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword.

••••••••••••

The carriage ride into the capital was silent and incredibly awkward for captain Wren. It had been years since he last saw the princess, years since she did not accept his departure with anything but anger. It was clear she still remembered that day—crying and screaming of course—and held him accountable, but what could he do? He had a family of his own, and a career to follow at that. He married his lady, and had two sons since. Shouldn't she understand?

He glanced over at her and saw that her eyes were staring through the windows at the buildings rolling by, gradually getting larger and closer as they crept further into the city. Her hands were in her lap, wrung together so tightly her knuckles were white, while her brows furrowed so deeply he feared they would never raise again. Perhaps talking... "Once we arrive, what will you be looking to get, princess? If I know the routes ahead of time—" She hmpf'd and turned her head even further, indicating she was not pleased with his attempts to talk. "Princess, I could always turn the carriage around."

Emma looked at him then. "Just leave me be!"

"Your temper has not lost any footing since last we met, it appears."

"And you're...you're..." He looked at her, waiting. That only angered her more. "...forget it!" he smirked at the situation, forgetting for just a second how she hated being laughed at, but it was long enough for her to catch and shove him against his part of the carriage and then opened the door to jump out. He gasped and banged on the front window to alert the driver and then quickly followed after the princess.

"Princess, wait this instant!" he hurried after her, his men streaming behind him almost as frantically.

They walked for what seemed like hours, tailing the princess as she got the supplies her mother asked her to get, getting her drinks of fruit juices or snacks whenever she even so slightly turned red from the heat or looked paler than usual. They had been drilled thoroughly on her 'condition' and told what to look out for. To Wren it was like trying to stop a volcano. It seemed like if she was active for more than an hour the symptoms started to first sign would be red cheeks, unnaturally red that is, extremely dried lips and then looking as flush as a ghost. Then her dry throat would make her cough a bit. Sometimes it was really scary, dealing with someone obviously vulnerable no matter what they did to secure her safety.

By now she was as red as a tomato and strangely active like a wired four year old. Her eyes were wide and full of mirth, absolutely girlish to anything she saw. A band of children ran by screaming and giggling over a little red ball. It looked like she wanted to join in their fun, to play like a kid her age should, to do things that normal kids would be doing, and it hurt him to realize she was deprived that very thing for all sorts of reasons. Reasons he didn't know and reasons he understood.

The kids kicked the ball towards her feet and she leaned down to pick the ball up. He noticed just how jerky her movements were then, and just how shallow her breathing had become. She handed it back to the seven year old boy who ran up to her, eyes wide in wondrous and joyful delight, delight only capable of children.

"Here," she whispered through a smile Wren felt perfectly captured what a king or queen should look like when with the people. A smile that said all to much how easily the princess trusted and loved. The boy took the ball and blinked at her, smilingly at her.

"Yah tha princess?" he asked softly as his friends gathered around. Emma leaned down to be at their height, admittedly it wasn't that much of a kneel.

"Yes I am," she said enthusiastically. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tommush." she said hello. "Is tha your hair color...truwelly?"

Emma giggled and reached up to touch her mint hair she had braided. "Yes it is."

The children wow'd in awe and bright smiles on chubby faces as precious as can be. Tommush reached out toward her hair, hesitant at first, and then gently touched her braid—as if it would bite. "Jus like tha qween!" he exclaimed with childish glee. Suddenly the other kids started pouring in closer to touch her hair or ask her questions.

Wren and his men sat back with smiles, finally relaxing for a moment so they could sit the bags down. Tommush grabbed at her hands with pudgy fingers and lifted them up to inspect them, for reasons she asked him for, but the boy was too far excited to have heard. Plus, the other children were practically climbing over her like she was some toy or tree, laughing and shouting about who would get to touch her hair or ask her questions next.

One of the boys shoved Tommush back. "I wanna see too!"

A little confused, Emma disengaged them from their tiny brawl. "What do you want to see?" she asked him though the other boy started clawing at Tommush. She asked him again and both boys looked at her with childish wonder and impatience.

And in unison, they said, "We wanna see your horns!" A gentle gasp escaped her lips and she released the two boys, allowing them to paw at each other, shouting over the horns and scales they wanted to see first.

Sensing her rising anger and not knowing what she would do, Wren cut in and shooed the children away. "Get out of here you little tykes. Go on now! Get out of here!" He turned to her and caught her glaring at the children running away. He didn't like the expression one bit. In fact, he didn't like the way her hands twitched at her side either. Maybe it was her condition, her illness. She didn't look quite right.

He took her arm, yanking her out of her state of unnatural anger. "Come now princess, you need shade and something to drink and eat. Don't think about arguing either, or we'll tell your parents just how uncooperative you were being."

Emma allowed them to drag her away from the staring children in the distance and further into town, where they found a service stand serving freshly squeezed juice drinks and bowls of stringy sugar sticks, but of course her escorts wouldn't allow her the sugar sticks. Instead they ordered her a bread full of meaty stew. After biting into it, she didn't mind so much. It was absolutely mouth watering! She ate her first quietly and then her second and third, until Wren laughed, waving the serviceman away when he held out another.

"No, no, her father and mother would kill me if we ruined her appetite for supper. That will be all, thank you sir." he handed the man more than enough coin to cover the cost but ended up ordering another fruit juice for the girl, still not convinced by her change in color. The red was slowly vanishing from her cheeks and her lips were no longer cracked and dry. The rage he saw in her eyes earlier was gone as well, replaced by the look of an average content teenager.

As they walked away, the princess sipping silently at her drink, Gres and Laik—two of the seconds to the captain—helped the other soldiers lift all bags and direct them back to the carriage. Wren asked if she had been to this part of the town before and to his surprise, she answered.

"Once...when I arrived."

He didn't have to ask when she meant. He smiled. "I bet you haven't seen the Monster Guild yet."

Her eyes instantly brightened. "The what?"

"The Monsters Guild? Oh surely the princess has heard of the Alliance of Guilds?" her lips dropped into a 'o' and she shook her head. He chuckled. "The Alliance of Guilds formed about three years, actually. The local guild is run by five ex-soldiers of your father's army actually. I forget their names, but the point of the Guild is to help lift the burdens of protecting civilians and whatnot from the Crown and soldiers. See, there's this big—" he stretched his arms out wide. "—billboard at the entrance of this huge building where people, local or if it is big game world wide, post large applications to their monster requests."

"Requests?"

"Yes, their requests to have these monsters either killed, driven away, captured or whatever else. People willing to do the job—who, of course, were given permits to Hunt called 'Licenses'—would get a reward selected by the one who put up the request. Then that person would go out and do what he needed for the request, return to the Guild to proclaim to one of the masters that he has finished it and then sent to the people behind the request to get his reward. In turn, the Guild gets a bit of his reward to keep the Guild going."

Her breath released in obvious awe. "Can we go? Please? I won't say anything to mother and father. Please, please, please?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe next time. The hour is too late for the Guild to allow unregistered people in anyways. I'll tell you what," he paused so she could catch up to his stride and then ruffled her hair, to her utter annoyance. "The next time we're in town, I'll take you. Maybe even get you a License."

She frowned. "There is no way mother and father would allow me to get a License..."

"Eh, what they don't know, won't hurt them." he winked at her and she giggled girlishly at him, causing him to pause mid-step, having not heard that laugh from her in years. Maybe he could mend the relationship that broke when he left her after all.

"Can we go to the music shoppes? I want to see their flute collection."

Reluctantly he said yes, unable to look at her pleading expression and rip the joy from her heart, a joy he was not blind to being rare for her to have. "Sure. But only for a few minutes."

"Thank you," she said brightly, going back to sipping at her fruit juice.

In the next hour or two that went by, having let her check the music shoppes for half an hour, his men were getting tired from the prolong exposure to the heat in their armor and the princess was beginning to tire—something he couldn't 'fix' without letting her sleep. Every time he asked if she needed a rest she would deny him like it meant saving her life or dignity. But he could see the stumble in her step and caught her swiping at her eyes tiredly. It was time to head back. Besides, his queen said something about not being out beyond sunset and it was already nearing that. He hoped his queen would understand.

"Alright princess, it is time we head back. Your mother is going to be furious with me for how late it is already." She rolled her eyes and discarded her empty fruit container into one of their bags. "Good. You have all the decorations back at the carriage, and I sent Yorik back with your flutes and piano strings. Is that all that you need?" she nodded. "Alright, good, I have to get out of his armor before I roast alive." She smiled at him in a way that suggested, 'I wouldn't mind that at all' but he let it slide. Instead he guided his men through an alley leading back west, toward where they left the carriage.

They turned a corner into the alley and paused; it was full of dark clothed men in hats with suspicious stares. It seemed silly to suspect them for their clothes, in fact normally he wouldn't, but with someone like the princess in his care he couldn't take any chances.

One of the men lifted his gaze and caught sight of her hair, suddenly he started toward them, a little too quickly. Emma didn't seem to notice, or even care, but Wren stepped in front of her and swiftly unsheathed his sword, pointing it toward the man. "Back you savage and I shall spare your life."

The man had large round eyes, the color of bark, a large scar. He was gawky and evil looking, but at the words of the soldier, his expression shifted into sincerity. "Please, I mean no harm." he removed his fur cap to bow to Emma, who was watching behind her shield of soldiers, tiptoeing to see the man. "I mean to ask her highness for help, that's all. Please, I meant no harm or disrespect."

"I don't care, step back."

Suddenly Emma growled and shoved Wren out of the way so she could see the man. He looked pale and sickly, as if he hadn't eaten or slept in weeks. She frowned and immediately went digging through her little coin pouch.

"Oh, princess, please, I don't need your coin." he fell to his knees, surprising her. "It is for my wife and son, you see. They suffer from the Sand Fever. I can't buy them their medicine because the crook at the Shoppe says I do not have the...the papers for it. Oh please your highness, please help me get the medicine. I will do whatever you please of me!" by now he was sobbing. The other men were looking at him solemnly, sadly, understanding his pain.

For a moment her soldiers relaxed in remorse and pity, but she was so confused, so afraid, that she swallowed back a lump in her throat and stepped back. The man desired something of her she couldn't provide. And now she had faces, earnest people, watching her and waiting for her to screw them over like they probably expected. He needed papers, proof of citizenship, but he was an immigrant and stuck. Desperately she held the coins out toward him, but he just shook his head. "Coins won't help me, your highness, the storeman doesn't care. I need papers, clearance...oh please, for my son, for my wife. I beg you!" he placed his forehead against the dirt and cried into the ground.

"I...I can't...I mean..." she looked to Wren but the man was scanning the rest of the faces, his hand tightly secured on his sword, waiting for one single mistake of a civilian so that he could mow them down effortlessly in the name of his kingdom. "I—I don't have the...the power to grant you the papers...I—I could give you Gil, I mean, to buy a temporary scholar to help you..."

"I'm not allowed to buy the scholar permit!" he shouted, frustrated. "I am too lowclass, your highness! Please, help me! I don't request anything else of you or your family!"

"But—But I can't!" she cried. "I—I'm not able to."

The man's frustration drove him to his feet too quickly for the likes of her escorts. Wren and another man stepped forward, pressing her behind them. "Stay back! I warned you once, I will not again!" The man pressed forward, hands reaching for Emma, begging for her help. "I said stay back!" he shoved the man so hard he flew back into the mud with a loud cry.

The next thing happened so quickly that Emma wasn't sure what had transpired.

The other men were enraged by the cruelty and leapt forward, charging the soldiers with the intent of ridding the world of their existence. One of the men had an iron bar he wiped across the air and against one of her soldiers' shields. One of her soldiers tackled one of the civilians—she was sure it was Gres—to the floor to wrestle his sword from his hands.

One man, she wasn't sure if it was a soldier or civilian, shouted and suddenly even more people crowded the alley, joining the fight or cheering one side or the other on. She was sure she heard a man shout 'A pound of Gil on the soldiers!'. Wren was in the middle of the fray, fist fighting another man back, as he had lost his sword sometime earlier.

Someone stumbled into her and she went into the dirt with an 'umpf!', yet none of the soldiers seemed to noticed that their princess, the purpose of their fight, was being nearly trampled by civilians as they rushed to the scene—their excitement and wonder not for the princess but for the brawl going on.

Emma got to her knees just in time to see Gres kick a man so strongly in the chest that the man fell limp to the floor and then two more men rushed at him from behind, smashing him into the wall and punching at his sides, forgetting about the soldier's armor. The dust of the road had risen at the skirmish and strangled the breath out of her lungs and burned at her eyes. Carefully she got back up, avoiding another rush of curious civilians and tried to spot captain Wren or Laik from among the mob.

The shouting, screaming, betting, laughter and general ruckus made it hard for her to hear, even with her rather sensitive hearing, so she tried to scream, 'Wren! Wren!' suddenly realizing her mother was right. People, when it came down to it, were prone to violence, in all sorts of ways. And now Wren, Laik, Gres and their comrades would suffer for her stupidity. She thought she would be ale to help that beggar with her coin, never even suspecting the issue was something to do with the law, something her brother, father or mother could have solved...but not her.

Hot tears burned in her eyes. "Wren! Wren!" her shouting attracted the attention of the original civilians who had charged her guards. One of the men's eyes burned with passion of an usurper, of a man ready to revolt. Did it matter that her intentions were pure? That she cared, deeply, for what the man was going for? Looking at this man, it appeared it did not. To him, she should have cured the kid and wife, to be a god and if she fail to do it, damn her to hell.

He advanced toward her, his lip split and his left eye swelling. He walked with a limp, probably due to a broken bone or injured leg, until he stood before her, glaring and flaring his nostrils, adrenaline still rushing through his veins. Her eyes widened in fear and she collapsed in front of him, trembling. "P-p-please sir...I—I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up!" he snapped, flailing his arm to the side, nostrils still flaring. "That man laid at your feet and degraded himself and all you did was shove gil at him! He didn't need gil, he needed papers to help his family!"

"I—I—I can't per—permit that, I don't...I'm not...I..."

"You're worthless," he snapped. "All of you royals are! You sit in your castle, eat and live prettily, while the rest of us suffer!"

"No! I just wanted to help!"

The man gestured to the fight going on. "This is what your help caused. The man is probably dead...thanks to your brutes!" and then he lunged toward her and she screamed much like a child.

••••••••••••

Wren lifted his head after smashing his forehead straight into the face of one of the street urchins. He gave a hoot and an excited smile, for once in months feeling like he was doing good, and then kicked his unconscious body back until he collapsed into the dirt. Another man attacked him from behind, trying to get him to the ground so that he could dominate him.

He knew the princess wouldn't have wanted any of the men dead or fatally wounded so he tried to keep his attacks as blunt as possible but when one man lifted an iron bar to smash one of his soldiers a switch flipped and he shoved the man off his back and charged toward the attacker. Before the man could swing his iron bar again Wren knocked him off his feet and smashed his boot into his face, rendering him either unconscious or dead—at this point, he didn't care—and then charged into the fray again.

One man tried to tackle Gres to his right but failed when his soldier knocked him off balance and took him down with one punch. Three more now tried to corner Wren for his distraction but failed when the captain sheathed his sword, picked up a wooden plank on the floor and then started smashing his way through the urchins.

Seconds seemed to roll onto minutes and after Wren disengaged himself from one of the men he thought he earlier dispatched he laughed until he remembered the purpose of him even fighting. Panic gripped him and he swung around, scanning the forty-fifty people swarmed around him. When had so many people arrived? Where was the princess?

"Princess?!" he shouted into the crowd, dropping his plank. "Emma?! Princes Emma?! Where are you?!" all he could hear was shouting, cheering and swears and sounds of men being hit. Frantically he searched the faces of the people, picking his way through the people. Then he heard it, faint over the people around him and his blood chilled.

"Wren! Wren!"

He turned toward the sound, or tried to, straining to listen through the screams and joyous laughter or cheering. "Emma?!" he cried out, throat hurting from the tensity of his scream. Suddenly his men were around him, panting and asking where the princess was. Laik was busy keeping the men back from them to ask or answer anything. Wren could feel his guts churning. "I don't know," he shouted back. "I lost sight of her. Oh Gods, please help us find the poor girl!" as if it was his answer, he heard her scream again and he charged forward, his men right behind him.

When he broke through the shield of civilians he saw a man lunging toward her. Quickly he charged forward and struck the man against his side, dragging him into the ground before he even got to a hands length of the princess. They struggled with each other in the dirt for a moment until Wren skillful dislodged himself from the man's grip and kicked him across the face and then grabbed his head to smash it into the ground.

The man tried to crawl away but Wren was furious. He stomped a boot down on the man's back, holding him down. "How dare you raise a hand to the princess! How dare you raise a hand to a child...to a girl!" he pressed the boot down harder. "You are nothing but scum!"

"Please! Forgive me! Forgive me your highness! Please! Please!"

Wren looked over his shoulder to the princess and saw that her expression was turned to stone—an expression of horror. A horror he knew meant this was her first time experiencing a mob attack. Her first time realizing that most people were but animals when given the right instrument or reason. It didn't matter if she were but a child, a young girl. They would have made use of her and killed her...and by the look in her eyes, he knew she had come to that realization in some way as the man tried to kill her.

He swore.

More of her innocence stolen from her by the likes of common rubble and the throne. "In this moment, you urchin, the princess has no say. I shall bring you back to the king and queen and have you suffer fully for your treasonous and criminal actions." he looked to Gres. "Get the princess out of here and for gods sake make sure she doesn't try anything stupid again." and then he looked toward the girl, softening up. "Emma...are you okay?" Tears began to swell and drop down her dirtied cheeks, lips quivering and body trembling, but she managed to nod her head. He sighed. "Good, good. Don't worry, you are safe now. Please head back to the carriage with Gres and the others."

He watched as they left and waited until he was sure they would not turn back. He slide his sword out of its sheath and contemplated killing the man here and there. He had the right. It was the law. He could ascertain whether or not a quick execution was necessary but he knew his king and queen, and the princess, would only disagree. They always favored trials and chances. But what if this man were allowed to walk free? Would he start something again, something more like a rebellion? He gripped his hands rightly, swore and leaned down to tie the man's hands up. "You're lucky, you little scumbag, that I care for the opinions of my commanding officers and kingdom too much to kill you here and now." and then he lifted the urchin up and started to drag him away.

••••••••••••

Gres helped his princess into the back of the carriage, a little startled himself by her trembling, but happier now that her crying stopped. She looked exhausted and pale, and wondered exactly how this...exchange...effected her. He had never seen her like this before, having joined the Figaro Army when she was just eight and in Thamasa. He was one of the new recruits that came over with Wren's replacement.

It felt selfish of him, but he hoped today's events gave him consideration in walking her patrols. He wanted to do good for the kingdom and what was better than protecting the daughter of the greatest nation on Gaia?

He saw her shiver and, despite knowing it was hot out, took his cloak off to wrap it around her shoulders. "Do not worry princess; you are safe and sound with us. You didn't do anything wrong. You offered your help, to the greatest of your ability, and it was unaccepted. This is not your fault."

She smiled at him. "Thank you Gres."

He didn't think she knew his name. He smiled back, realizing just how pretty her smile was and just how lovely her eyes were, despite the somewhat questionable facial features. "You're welcome princess." and when she managed to stop shivering and snuggled into the security of the cloak, he couldn't help but wonder just what a girl her age should be doing in her life but walking the streets of some town for supplies for her brothers' ceremony. It didn't seem right. He understood the importance of the Antlion race, as he really wanted to participate, but he would never force his sister or mother, or even his cousins, into what she might have been pressured into. "Are you thirsty? Hungry? Hurt?"

"I'm—" there was a certain and odd hesitation he heard in her voice then. "—just tired. Can we go back to the castle now please?" there was a tinge of panic to her tone. He could see through her facade, straight to a fragile child wishing her mother and father was near.

"Once the captain gets back, we will leave immediately, I promise."

True to his word, the captain returned and they started off immediately. All of them were as silent as mice. Through unspoken agreement the soldiers' silence was to try and prompt the girl's obvious exhaustion into sleep but she remained a bit jittery, still cuddled inside of Gres' cloak like it was protective armor against anything in the world.

And as if their parental senses had been ticked to alert they arrived at Figaro's southern gate to see the king and queen standing at the gateway; Edgar looked angry and Terra looked worried. They had taken the girl's late return as something bad...and they were right. Or maybe, he realized as Emma exited the carriage quickly, they were just upset by her late return, not necessarily worried.

But now they were.

They saw their daughter's dirty condition and went into hysterics. Emma wrapped her arms around her mother's waist and hid her face against her chest, not yet crying but on the verge, explaining nervously what had transpired. It occurred to Wren, as his king stared frantically at his daughter's recantation, that the girl did not sound so much afraid anymore...but excited!

"And then Wren pulled this HUGE—" she kind of jumped up to reach a higher height. "—guy right off of Gres and then...and then—"

Terra, despite her pale complexion and worry, laughed at her daughter's excitement. "Oh Emma, dear, I'm just glad you are safe." she kissed her daughter's cheeks despite the dirt over them and the girl's objections. Edgar turned to Wren and the others.

"Do you have the ruffian who tried to hurt her?"

Wren bowed his head. "Yes, your majesty, I have him captive in the second carriage. Laik is watching him with the others."

"Good," Edgar growled. "Bring him to the west cells." he leaned in toward the captain. "And captain, please be sure he is given the best cell there."

It was clear what he meant and Wren smiled weakly. "Of course, your majesty." and then he and his soldiers went to retrieve the ruffian.

Edgar suddenly took his daughter out of his wife's clutches and pressed her so tightly against him that she gave out a strangled 'Father!' before he released her only long enough to smother her face with kisses. "And you are safe? Oh thank the gods. You must be wrung out completely after today, my sweet princess."

"I'm actually—"

"You should head to bed and rest. Look at you," he lifted her face up toward the sunlight, meaning the paleness of her face. "You look as if you've seen a ghost. Terra, dear, would you fix our daughter some sleeping tea?"

"I'm fine—"

"Nonsense," he said firmly, removing his hands from her face. "After today's events anyone would be tired and you are not just anyone Emma...you are frail and—"

"Weak, young, pathetic...I know!" she snapped, pushing by him to head into the castle alone.

Edgar frowned. "Now what was it that I said that upset her?"

••••••••••••

Emma slammed her door shut, fuming and unable to properly vent her frustrations and angers. Why did her parents, of all people, feel like they had to constantly remind her of her abnormalities, of her afflictions? Why was it so important to them that she be reminded of how different she was? Why was it always about comparing her?!

'You should be more like Benjamin and study toward something.'

'You should be more like Cambyses. He always thinks ahead.'

'Emma, why can't you listen like your brothers?'

It was so...so unfair! She did everything in her power, in her person, to satisfy her parents and brothers but it was like everything she did was just something to backfire in her face. Her sabotage against her tormentors at the academy had resulted in fuel to prove soldiers were needed around her, her attempts to help the people of Figaro...all of it turned into yet another "But you are too weak, to fragile, to pathetic to do what normal people can do!"'

What was next?

I'm not a baby! she thought, pacing, breathing hard. She was twisting her fingers through each other as she walked. I'm not! I'm not! And then, cutting through the air, came rapid knocking on her door. She ignored it, hoping whoever it was would just go away, but instead the door flew open and in came her parents.

They were wearing their sad, parental faces. The ones that said, 'you are about to be punished'. Her mother was the first to speak, and she did so very softly."Emma, your father and I have been thinking about this a lot lately—" in the short time that she left them? ""—but this recent even really made it clear to us that things are just...unsafe. It was a hard decision, one we took very carefully."

She stared at them, confused. "What decision?"

"For the time being, you will not be permitted to leave Figaro grounds, until we have deemed it safe. You will be escorted to the academy as usual and then brought home immediately with your escort."

"No, in fact, we will be issuing the Queen's Guard to your company. They will keep you safe." her father added.

Outrage struck her like a force of lightning. It wasn't enough that she would be forced to walk about with a gaggle of soldiers, but to not even be able to leave the castle grounds? She looked at them with horrors truck eyes. "No! You can't do this! Please!"

Her father's face shifted from a neutral expression to an annoyed one. "What did you just say to us, young lady?" he was fuming, she knew. She ducked her eyes, nervous. "If we wanted to lock you up in the towers until you youth years are behind you, we very well good! If I wanted to drag you to your room and keep you there, I could! We are your parents!" she stammered, looking for a reply that wouldn't take more from her, but came up empty.

"Edgar," his wife warned, eyes angry. "Enough."

"No." he said, and the harshness of it startled Emma. "I am at my limits with her and pampering her adolescent behavior is not going to get us anywhere." he turned his volcanic eyes to her. "This will be the last time that you talk back to us or shout or complain or the like. I will no longer tolerant unladylike and disrespectful behavior. It is time that I have ended it."

"Edgar, she is just confused, please, let me handle it from here—" her mother was talking, but Emma's heart was throbbing and she didn't understand. She didn't understand!

Desperately, she looked at them with tears in her eyes and said, "No! I don't care about that though! I don't want to be l-locked away anymore! I'll keep the escort, I promise! I promise!"

Terra looked at her with an expression that asked how she could be so stupid even as her father gaped at her, clearly trying to withhold an outburst he would regret. Emma didn't realize the situation until the cap blew and her father was screaming about what she said and what she did.

"This isn't how a girl your age should act!" he shouted and, "If you wish to act like an out of control child, then I will treat you like one!"and then came the threats of punishment, some from having her things taken from her and others being a fitting swat on the buttocks or even the aforementioned tower isolation. Although she knew he could do any of that if he truly wished to, she could not understand what was wrong with what she said. By then her father's face was bright red and the finger he pointed over and over again at her face to indicate just how angry he was just a few inches from her nose. He was still hollering, and hollering very loudly and angrily.

Terra took his arm, digging fingers into the skin. "Edgar, enough! I said enough!" and then he stopped, breathing ragged. He tailored that pointing finger into a fist at his side, to calm himself. Emma knew there were tears in her eyes.

What? What did I do? Please...someone tell me...

You exist, a voice said, a voice that burned behind her eyes, that made her head throb.

Her father was controlled now, if only to avoid the repercussions from his wife. "From this moment onward, you are hereby removed from any and all access to the outer grounds as well. You will be brought to the academy by your escort and they will remain at your side until the day tires and then you will be brought home immediately and walked to your room. They will stand outside your door, to be sure you do not test me with your defiance, and then they will walk you to break your fast and sup with us, and then back to your room. And it will stay as such until you prove to me you have learned your lesson."

"Edgar, this isn't necessary, please..."

He would not hear his wife though. "And I will here no complaints from you. If I so much as hear a 'but' from you, I will not hesitate to put you over my knee, as I have done with your brothers. This is it, girl. There will be no more disobedience, no more crying, and certainly no more talking back. Have I made myself clear here?"

And there it was. The next thing to be taken from her. Now she couldn't even have the freedom to walk the gardens? The library? What about the chapel? The gods' pond? She let her tears fall. Now everything had been stripped from her. She had nothing. The academy was the furthest thing from an acceptable place to be and now it was the place where she'd be forced to attend, where her escort would now see how she was treated—because the students would surely bully her over her little 'princess guard'—and tell, and make things even worse for her.

No. She knew if it got worse, she would not be able to take it. Something in the back of her mind told her there were ways out of that torture, out of facing her parents disappointment and anger.

"Do not ignore me, girl. I asked you a question!" oh, he was very furious. He never referred to her as 'girl' or her brothers as 'boy' unless he was beyond angry. The last time her brothers became 'boy', was when they had shoved her and she accidentally fell down the stairs.

She tried to blink away her tears. "I...I don't understand...why? Why am I being p-p-punished?" but she could not contain them, and the sobs came. Terra tried to reach for her, though Edgar blocked her hands. "I just wanted—wanted..."

"It doesn't matter what you wanted Emma. We have tried just about everything to get you to understand, to behave better, but you never learn. I now know it is because we have never been serious with you, that we have only ever given you what you wanted, that we have spoiled you. However, this time around, you will learn. The time in your room will see to that, to give you time to reflect upon your actions. It is time for it. If you behave...we may reconsider some of the limitations on where you may go." and then he guided his wife out of the room, rather forcefully because she just wanted to hug the life out of her daughter, and then the door closed.

••••••••••••

When they were at the foot of the stairs, Terra's anger and worry hit him. "You were too hard on her!" she glanced over her shoulders, as if she could spot her little girl right there. "I mean...oh Edgar...she was crying and...and she was right...she didn't do anything wrong, not really."

Edgar looked at her squarely. He had to admit, even though she deserved her punishments, whenever she cried it made them so much harder to commit to, but he knew it was necessary. Emma was growing into a young lady, and an adult could not enter the world acting like a child and directing people as disrespectfully and rudely as she does, even if it wasn't her intention. She had to learn to recognize when it was, and adjust, or she would grow into a person people would not tolerate.

"Terra, listen to me...it is time we treat her as a girl nearing adulthood. We have babied her for too long, and now she tells you no to your face or screams back at you or ignores your commands or even when you talk to her. She cannot be allowed to continue such behavior, for her own good. How do you think she will handle living in the world when she is older? When we are not there to step in and adjust her course?"

"We have always known she was different," she said, frowning. "If she doesn't understand what she is doing is wrong or unacceptable, punishing her isn't going to change it."

"Terra, my love, she is not stupid, she can learn what she is doing is wrong." he said softly. "It is that she hasn't because we haven't tried to explain it correctly. Do you remember that poor girl she insulted when she first arrived at Figaro? What was her name?"

Terra skirted her eyes away, clearly remembering. "Clara Webb..."

"And what was it you said she did when you first talked to her about it? Well, regardless, she had come from a position of not understanding to understanding when you asked her how she would feel if someone said the things she said to Clara back at her. She understood it then. There's no reason we can't get her to understand screaming back at us or defying us is not acceptable."

"Relm and Gau have tried, over and over again...if they cannot, how can we?"

"Now, we both know why they couldn't," he mumbled, recalling those times sadly. "It is different now. The Sand Fever...it...it is stable. And damn it Terra, we are her parents. If anyone can get her to grow, it is us. You need to worry less about hurting her feelings, and worry more about what could happen if we don't teach her."

Terra could not help her worry though. She never liked the expression on her daughter's face whenever they gave her a punishment. It was as clear as day that their daughter truly didn't understand why pointing out someone's obesity was wrong, or how asking why she shouldn't do something, or why she should not answer for people when they couldn't answer questions correctly. It was clear their daughter saw the world only in a lens of honesty, and a curiosity beyond that when she was deprived the one thing she knew and could do. And although Terra knew she could not have, or want, her daughter to run around being unintentionally rude, she couldn't fully accept changing what made her daughter so unique, so beautiful a person.

Her honesty is a piece of her. Tear it away and what will she become?

And it hurt to consider admitting to the fact that there was a miscommunication between them, that they could not understand each other on some level. It was too sad to even consider admitting. And her husband always passed it over, if he even saw it at all. Sometimes she wandered if her husband ignored it because he could not deal with it, because Terra could not believe he was too blind to see something was very wrong...different...about their daughter, or their relationship.

She is lost in a world she cannot understand...or worse, a world that cannot understand her.

"No," she suddenly said, cutting her husband off. He looked at her with a frown. "I think...no...I know we are handling her wrong. I know we used to consider treating her like the boys, out of desperation to make her change, but she...she's not her brothers."

Edgar paused to take his wife's hand, gently. "I thought treating her differently was the issue?"

Terra started to cry. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what would make her daughter understand, what would make her happy, what would convince her they weren't bullying her just because they wanted to. Why had things gone so wrong? Why had the gods given her such an angel but removed her daughter's life so wickedly difficult, or make Terra unable to understand her?

"I don't know anymore," she whispered, letting her tears fall. Edgar took her quickly in his arms. "I know she thinks we are doing this because we don't like her though...I know it Edgar. I can see it in her eyes. I can feel it in my bones. I...I'm failing her."

Edgar pressed her closer. "No my love, no...never. It is just...sometimes the right decision is the hard decision. You do not love her any less because you have to act. Do not put yourself down like this, my love, never."

"I feel this way because I know she does," she cried. "I don't want it Edgar, not anymore."

"So what would you have us do, then? How are we to proceed in rearing her? If we cannot treat her differently and we cannot treat her like the boys, what is our course? Ignoring the problem?"

She looked away, considering. She was aware now she wasn't presenting solutions, only arguments, more problems. And yet, she just wanted to hold her baby in her arms and tell her that nothing else mattered but her love for her children. "I don't know..."

"Then we must act in the best way that we can. That is the only option we have..."

"And what if she is up there thinking we mean to torment her Edgar? Shouldn't we try to explain that to her?"

Edgar looked toward the stairs, thoughtfully. "Aye...perhaps that is wise, but I do not think we should do it now, after just grounding her. It will only confuse her."

"Then when?" she asked, batting back tears.

"After we sup," he said softly. "We will sit her down together and talk to her, when the boys go to training. That way they will be out and cannot interrupt our discussion, and she won't misunderstand should they walk in."

Terra smiled. "Thank you Edgar."

••••••••••••

To say she was upset would be an understatement. She was boiling with rage, with unquantifiable rage that made her skin burn and her chest heave as if the air around her was stale and thin. Why was she continuously subjected to people's bullying? By even her own parents? How could they strip her of the only thing she had, the only smidgen of freedom she had left to her? Going into town was the only thing she had left!

The fire in her burned hotter, smothering the life out of her and she stiffened to it, dropping to her knees to encase her head and battle off the raging headache that washed over her.

They have no right, a voice whispered to her, a darker voice. They have no right to treat you like this.

She moaned, painfully, and lifted her head. Tears brought on from pain brimmed in her eyes. The room flash in reds and whites, no, her vision and she ducked her head again, avoiding the hurtful flare of sunlight from the window. Was she sick? Was her Sand Fever back? Panic gripped her. No. If she was sick she would be sent away again, probably for good this time, never to see her family again, to know for the rest of her miserable life that no one wanted her near, that she would remain in the shadows until life sucked the last bit of itself out of her body and she laid dying alone.

Bitter tears burned in her eyes. No! she snapped, getting to her feet, though it was a struggle. It felt like her body suddenly weighed hundreds of pounds more than it really did. Her legs wobbled to her weight but carried her to the window. She slammed the windows open and peered down the distance. A jump straight down wouldn't kill her but it would break something for sure or leave her crippled enough to keep her still and unwilling to do what was forming in her mind.

But there was a tree, large and thick from years and years of growth, busting in all directions. One of the branches, sturdy enough for her weight she gathered, ran only a foot or two away from the ledge of her window. She turned from her freedom, snatched up her satchel and stuffed it with various things she thought she would need; her coin pouch, still nearly full; a bag of dried meats; a small change of clothes; her notepad and quill, as well as ink; and few bottles of water she filled from her washroom. She stuffed all the items down until the satchel could close and lifted it over her shoulders. It was a pretty hefty weight but she would manage. She went to her closest next and dug around for darker clothes, clothes that would hide her pale complexion. She found something she thought would do just nicely; a set of male traveling clothes. She had acquired them from Gau—the only one on the planet besides Terra who could understand the curse of their outward appearance—back on Thamasa.

It was full trousers the color of the midnight sky, boots as black as tar in her size, a man's dress shirt of a dark shade of blue and a thick black-blue and gray doublet. It hid what was left of her feminine figure quite well.

She stood in front of her mirror, admiring her drastic change, until she remembered her hair and eyes. I'll never be able to cover my eyes, she realized, knowing it was impossible, but she ran to her clothes chest at her bed and started digging through its contents. And then she found it. A very newly woven scarf, large enough to cover her upper chest, throat and entire head if she wanted it to. For now, she tied it around her neck and head, a little worried by the giant tail it gave her and went back to the window.

The height seemed to be even higher now.

You can do this Emma, she told herself brightly.

You can. Think back. You've done worse, the darker voice whispered from the back of her mind. You can make the jump. Make the jump Emma. Make it.

She swallowed and stepped onto the ledge, secured the satchel at her side, wrapped the excess scarf around her waist and then took a deep, relaxing breath. The next instant she was airborne and regretting her ignorance until the middle of her torso smashed into a branch and she was grasping wildly at the wood for a secure holding.

She nearly slipped off the branch and to the ground but her hand wrapped tightly around another branch that ripped out in front of her. With it she lifted her squirming legs up and over the branch. Steadied, she sighed and then smiled brightly. She gave a triumphant hoot and shot her arms up in the air, nearly knocking herself off the branch again.

Next she carefully climbed her way down the tree, cautious to stop scaling whenever a soldier happened to get too close. It thankfully didn't happen too much and she was down on the ground within minutes. She sprinted for the cover of the gardens, digging her way through rose bushes and short trees. She ignored the pricks of the thorns and stings of branches smacking at her as she rushed through.

She pulled to a stop just short of the rose bushes as several guards marched by. Her breath caught and she carefully stepped further back into the safety and darkness of the bushes, waiting. One of the guards paused and started laughing, imitating someone she didn't know, acting much like a dumb monkey. And then one of the others shoved him ahead and snapped to 'cut it out!' and they vanished around the corner, further toward the castle and further into the garden.

She waited a moment to see if they would return or if more would be marching by and when she couldn't spot any, she took off for the gate. Luckily for her all the times she snuck by the soldiers to get to her oasis she had more than enough practice to do it now. She waited behind the rotten barrels of sand and stone that hadn't been touched in probably a decade for the soldier on the tower to turn his back eastward. The instant he turned she took off for the trees lined up against the stone wall. She made it just as the soldier turned back to face the garden.

Emma followed the stone wall north, back smashed tightly against the wall as she inched her way through. In a moment a fissure in the wall appeared, large enough for someone as small and thin as herself to squeeze through. She had no idea how it had come to be only that no one had seen it yet and probably wouldn't ever and that it was perfect for her. As if created just for her.

Go, the darker voice urged. Go! Go or be trapped!

Emma knew she didn't want to be trapped in her room forever, not even by the authority of her parents. So she went through, relieved that she was still small and thin enough to make it through effortlessly. She fell forward at the end and into the sand outside the wall with a gentle cry. Thankfully none of the solders above her heard the sound and continued on with their watch. Now would be the hardest part; making it out of sight of the higher sentries. From their towers they would easily spot her and would immediately attempt capture, especially since she was dressed so...suspiciously.

The sand dunes racing in opposite directions would be her cover until she could reach the outer village. She needed the guards to just look away for a moment to make it to the first dune. It took several minutes for the three guards scanning the horizon to turn away to watch the wall on the otherwise. She wasted no time. She charged forward, barely able to hold all her things up as, and then threw herself behind the dune even as the men returned to watching the desert.

She giggled and sprawled out against the sand, giddy she had escaped her would be captors so easily. With the day dragging to an end, she had no time to dawdle in the sand, so she pushed herself up on her legs—trying to ignore the nagging of the other voice telling her to hurry—and crept along the sand dunes, using the opposite brushed dunes as cover until the men on the gate could no longer see her.

The nearest stop was a small village and was nearly abandoned except those who worked for the Crown, those who had to remain just in case a rescue was needed for someone lost in the desert or for those who needed a quick getaway from the castle territory.

She hefted the scarf up higher and then started on through the town for a chocobo service. Halfway through town she could hear the sound of the giant birds squawking and could smell them even.

She quickly ducked behind a set of wagons and watched as a small group of guards ran by, swinging their heads left and right in search of something, though she couldn't quite tell what though. She quickly sunk when one turned his view in her direction and then poked her head out again to see them retreating to the other side of the little street. She took a breath and silently made her way around the houses to the back of several buildings. She knew that around the next few corners would be a chocobo stable. She would take one of the birds, pay of course, and go as far away from Figaro as she could get!

When the stable came into sight and she could see several Chocobos grazing from a pit of greens, she scoped the area. There was a stable boy standing by the door, messing with something small and long hanging off the door. She could take one while he was distracted, but then again he would be able to turn and see who had taken it.

What do I do now? She wondered, watching the boy mess with the item in his hands. The minute he saw her hair he would be on alert and tell someone she was there. She smiled and pulled her cloak over and pulled the hood as far down as she could get it; it managed to cover her brows as well. With a deep breath to encourage herself, she took a few steps forward, gaining the boy's attention.

He smiled some when he saw her. "Hello, m'lady. Will you be requiring a bird rental?"

He doesn't know me! she thought excitedly. She cleared her throat and said, "yes, I will. Does this eh...eha...est-establishment offer paid riders?" he gave her a funny look when he heard her trouble speaking and she looked down. Don't let him recognize me....

"Yes, we do m'lady. Where would you like to go?"

"South Figaro, please." she replied.

"Alright then. The cost will be seven hundred gil, with another three hundred and fifty for the border fees. Is that suitable for m'lady?"

"It is fine." She had more than enough gil. She shuffled through a purse on her waist and handed him his amount in all gold gil pieces. His eyes went wide and he pointed to one of the already saddled birds.

"Will m'lady be wishing to leave today, or on the morrow?"

"Today," she answered quickly. "If...if we could go now I mean..."

"It is certainly acceptable to go now, if it please you," he said. "I have to tell my boss first, or he will run about in search of me."

She gasped. "No! Please...I mean...um...well I...I have to go in secret."

"Secret?" he echoed, brows furrowing.

"Yes, you see, I..." she hesitated. What could he believe and find suitable to run off that instant? "My lord father will not allow me to go to South Figaro but...but I have business there and..."

"Is m'lady in trouble?" he asked quietly. Yes, she thought. So much trouble. She nodded and he sighed. "If it is trouble you mean to escape, then I can't say no to a lady. My own lord father taught me that men must take care of women."

And then, thinking, she said, "I can pay even more, if...if it will help with your master when you come back."

He smirked. "That's quite alright, m'lady. Here, follow me and we will take a fresher bird." he lead her to a small stall in the back of the stable, where a great, beautiful golden bird currently ate. He must have been a decade old at the very least. "This here is Warble. He was my father's mount, when he was a boy. He gave him to me on my thirteenth name day."

"He's handsome," she breathed, reaching out to touch the bird's beck. Warble warked and pushed his head against her hands. She giggled. "And very happy."

"He's usually not so friendly to strangers, but maybe he likes m'lady." That made Emma smile. "Well, let me saddle him up and we will be on our way. If it would please you, there is a bench in the back where you may rest your feet. I won't be very long."

Emma did as suggested. The bench was clean, to her surprise, and had a thin cotton cushion spread out along the length. There was a small bowl of apples and pears and although she was quite hungry, she wouldn't dare. Relm always told her open food, especially around animals, was filthy and could get you sick. It didn't make her growling stomach stop though.

Half an hour later, the boy finished saddling and tending the bird. "M'lady, I am through here." she hurried back to the stall and saw the grand beast fully garbed in his riding gear. Up close, the chocobo seemed even grander. "He should take us to South Figaro in less than two hours, if we're quick about it."

"Is that safe for him?"

"Warble here is a thorough bred, m'lady. His stamina greatly outmatches others, even at his age. He will be safe." and then he started looking her over. It took a moment for Emma to realize what he was doing, and then she blushed. She meekly covered her chest and lowered her eyes. "M'lady, you are quite small..."

"Is...is that a problem?"

"It is if you mean to mount Warble. Hmm..." he glanced around. "Ah, I'll get the ladder, unless you would find it acceptable to take my hand?" he asked, eyes a little bright.

"I wouldn't m-m-mind that at all."

He smirked. "Alright then." he mounted Warble quickly and then held a hand down to her. "Your hand, m'lady." she hesitantly accepted it and was whisked off the ground with little to no effort. One moment she was in the air, the next she was seated in front of him. When she looked over the side at the distance from the ground, she grew queasy. "There. If m'lady wouldn't mind, it is best to keep your hands here, on the pommel of the saddle and here, on the spare reins." she followed the directions. "Have you ever ridden before?"

"A...a few times."

"Of course," he said, turning the bird suddenly. She squeaked, frightened, and lunged forward to wrap her arms around the chocobo's thick neck. He reared a little, shocked by the sudden movement. The boy started to laugh. "If you fight the sway of the bird, m'lady, you will be tossed off. Here," he wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed her to him until she could feel his heart against her shoulder. "I'll keep you in place as we move."

Emma knew it wasn't needed, that the boy just wanted to touch her, and she couldn't stop the blush that burned at her cheeks. "Are you comfortable, m'lady?" She stammered out a yes and he laughed. "Hold on." and then he kicked the bird's sides gently and Warble took off, as quick as lightning.

••••••••••••

Terra and Edgar decided to give their daughter some time to cool down, knowing just how angry she could get over the silliest of things. They didn't want to risk further irritating her when they meant to explain and lift some of the negativity off her shoulders. It was only an hour, maybe a few minutes over, and yet in that short time frame she had run away.

Terra hadn't noticed what had happened when they entered the room but Edgar...oh he knew. The window was left open, the crate rummaged through, her closet open for the world to see and her satchel gone. He knew when Terra called out to their daughter and she didn't respond. He knew when Terra came out of the washroom empty handed, knew when the guards outside the door reported that they saw nothing leave the castle doors. She had jumped the window.

He was so furious that he could spank the living hell out of his daughter. After everything that happened in that same day she would risk venturing out on her own?! He could not believe how truly stupid she was being.

Terra couldn't believe it, wouldn't, not until a search of the castle came out clean and no one could report seeing her since she was banished to her room. Eventually she knew too and she went ballistic. She had the guards tear apart the castle and local village for her, despite Edgar saying 'we can't just invade our people's homes dear, not even for our daughter. Not without the right permits and such.' but his wife was on a rampage he guessed only a mother could understand.

Oh, he wanted his daughter back safely for sure, the worry was beginning to root in his stomach and make him sick, but he knew better than to throw his people aside, even at a time like this. However, as the guards went door to door, most people were more than willing to allow the guards to check, just in case she had snuck in. Those that didn't want their houses invaded were left alone, to Terra's complete shock and chagrin.

All the while, waiting for the search to end and bring home their daughter, Edgar did his best to calm his wife. "Don't worry my love. She just needs to blow off some steam. She will be back before you know it, unharmed and sorry," and "Honey, if you don't stop pacing, you'll create a mote in our lovely castle." but she was too stressed to even consider her husband's attempts.

"What will we do if she doesn't come home? Oh Edgar, did we go too far with her?"

Edgar growled. "No! We didn't! This is the exact reason we should have punished her more thoroughly. This kind of thing would not have happened if we had. She will come home because she's smarter than this. She will come home because she knows she will be caught and the punishment will have been worse than simply returning. You need to stop worrying, she will be back, she will."

But Terra cried and cried the rest of the day as it plunged further into darkness, into the deep night and then into the early hours of morning. But it was then that sleep had hugged her, letting her rest and perhaps recharge for another day at worrying and crying.

In the morning he was awoken by the screech of his wife; a loud, painfully sad screech. He jumped out of his bed and ran toward the sound, finding his wife at their daughter's door, seeing that she was not there. The guards were by her, hanging their heads in shame and pity. "She's not here! She's not here! Oh my baby, my poor, poor baby!" she turned into her husband's chest to sob.

Edgar patted her back softly. "Oh Terra, stop crying, please...it won't do you any good. You need to calm down. Emma will return. You can't expect her anger to vanish so easily. She will be back."

"When? When?!"

"I don't know," he admitted shamefully. "I just know she will and that she is safe."

Cambyses appeared at the end of the stairs, being led by captain Wren and Benjamin. He had just come back home and was filled in on the details of the other day. He wasn't all that surprised to find that his sister had done what he always expected her to do. She usually ran away sniffling. As soon as the punishments got real, got to be real punishments, she couldn't handle it. He should have told his mother and father that anyone could have seen this coming from a mile away.

"Emma is missing?" he asked, coming to stand by them. Benjamin had his arms crossed and a very stern expression on his face. He was pissed, for some reason. "What happened? Why did she run away?"

Edgar took a calming breath, ordered the soldiers to get Sabin, Locke and Celes before he looked toward his son. "She was upset she got restricted...punished."

"That's not it," Terra cried, trying to mop the tears from her eyes. "She left because she doesn't understand why we did it Edgar. Because...because she thinks we hate her!" she wailed and went back to sobbing into her husbands chest. Edgar patted her back again.

"Whatever the reason, it was incredibly stupid of her," Edgar said sharply. "She knows her condition. She knows she cannot be on her own in the desert, in the heat. She was being selfish and ignorant."

"Have you talked to Setzer yet? He could offer us the aid of one of his ships, couldn't he?"

"We have, and his boys should be in town by now. Your mother and I want you and Benjamin to meet Setzer's boys down south and bring them back. They offered to help us search."

"Wait...father, I have finales, I cannot—"

"Are finales more important than your sister?" Edgar was about ready to pounce on him.

"No, of course not," Camb snapped, furious. "But if I don't take my finales I will be pushed back by a month and won't be able to participate in the Antlion race."

"I suppose you have a decision to make," Edgar muttered. "Either the race or your sister. Unless, for some, you recover her almost magically?" his father's eye brow raised, as if implying Cambyses knew where she was and was purposely not saying anything. That didn't sit right with him at all.

"What are you accusing me of, father? You think I would let my baby sister run away? Or do you think that I did something to her?"

"Don't be absurd," Edgar laughed. "I merely meant you might know where she has went."

"Well, if I do, I'm not telling you now." and then he stormed away, as red as blood.

As he made his way toward the town, wanting nothing more than to punch his father, he wondered just where his sister could have gone. He knew she would have turned to Thamasa if she could but he knew no ship would admit her without an adult or proper papers. She was stuck, he knew it. Where are you? he wondered, continuing through town briskly. Where would you go? He didn't expect to run into Loreto or Angelo the next instant.

"Ah, prince, there you are." Loreto laughed, dusting off his jacket, for he had been knocked to the ground. "You're father said you'd come...but he didn't say you'd take your damn time."

"Aye, it's been hours," Angelo growled. "Where were you? Oh forget that! Alexander went ahead with one of the free ships to South Figaro. We're to head to North Figaro, see if she is hiding among the finished houses."

"No, what about toward the southern villages? It seems more like she'd stop there before going anywhere else."

Loreto tapped is forehead. "Ah, but you forget, she has hours and hours ahead of us. If she stopped at the southern villages and acquired herself a bird, she could be anywhere. You know how fast those things run, don't you?" he gave a shrug. "It seems more likely, to me, that our beloved princess went north or east. West seems unlikely given she knows the entire western border of the desert is watched thoroughly by the Golden Lions. She knows she'd never get by there."

"Oh? And how did you come to understand my sister, Loreto, better than I have?"

The young man smiled at him, almost as if challenging him. "Because love has never been wrong before." Angelo didn't seem pleased by his brother and shoved him back.

"Love as in 'her and my love' you mean!" he turned toward Camb. "If anything, she's in South Figaro, hoping to get a ride south-west back to Thamasa I'd wager."

"You idiot! She can't board a ship without an authorized signature and permit!" Loreto snapped. "She's too smart to attempt boarding a ship!"

"Enough you two," Cambyses commanded, grabbing them both by their necks and pushing them forward. "Take me to your damn ship and let's just go. The faster I find my little sister, the faster I can be rid of you two fools." Loreto and Angelo shrugged his hand off of themselves with a scoff and led the prince away.

••••••••••••

It was around five pm by the time South Figaro came into the picture. The sun was fading behind the mountains, leaving the sky a purplish-pink hue. When they finally made it to the gates, she slid off the chocobo and thanked the young boy before he turned the bird around to retreat back to the villages. The city was glowing bright with lanterns and fire pits as the night dragged near, and the smell of inns cooking their meals for the guests filled the air. She smiled as she stepped further into the city.

Now she would get something to eat and drink, lodge someplace out of sight and from others, and then sneak aboard a ship and go anywhere...as long as it wasn't anywhere near Figaro. She knew Relm and Gau would just send her back, so Thamasa was out of the question. Maybe Tzen, Albrook or Maranda? No, not Maranda, Celes and Locke easily get her. Narshe seemed like a good idea too, and she had never been there before, and she trusted Mog and Umaro enough to know that if she asked them to, they wouldn't turn her over to her parents or anyone. They had often told her she was more than welcome to join them and live with them if she wanted and she has missed them so much that it seemed like the most viable option. That was it. She was heading to Narshe. But first, she needed something to eat and drink, for she was willing to bet that the ache in the back of her head, the dryness of her throat and the pain in her stomach meant she was getting too weak again.

She still had a purse full of gil to spend, so she went to the nearest inn for a meal. When they saw all her money, they offered her the best meals they had. It ranged from all green meals, to mixed, to desserts, and to drinks. She ended up buying a plate of seasoned pork, a small bowl of salad, a bowl of icecream and a mug of beer. They didn't refuse her for her age, wanting more than anything to get their hands on her purse, which surprised her. No one in their right mind would face the penalty of serving minors, which was a thousand gil fine or more depending on the damages of the young person.

She ended up gorging herself on mostly cream desserts and jelly filled bread, and of course beer, which she found to be pretty tasty when it was ice cold and not the bitter kind they first served her. It wasn't until she spent nearly a two hundred gil on the meals, drinks and lodging that she forgot she wouldn't be able to stay in that she decided it was time to leave. She handed over the gil and made her way out of the inn. The people behind her were chattering excitedly at the money they had made when she closed the door behind her.

Her next stop was supposed to be the local shoppe for some blankets or cloaks but she ended up walking right by The Brass Lass, a large and wondrous pub by the look of it. The windows shined orange from the light within and the chimney puffed away happily to the laughter and singing inside. Her lips pulled into an excited smile and she rushed for the doors, a little unbalanced.

When she stumbled in through the door most of the people nearer to her turned their heads to look, eye brows corked and mouths moving silently, gossiping perhaps. The bartender caught sight of her and smiled, cleaning a cup as he came over. "Welcome young man, what're you doin' here?"

Young man? She thought angrily, until she found it to be pleasing. A young woman might not be able to partake in their drinks or pub fun, but a young man so far east? She knew men born in the east were entitled to different ritual rights, that the men here were 'men' at fourteen-fifteen around Albrook or Maranda. They could drink. And if she played her cards right, she would be able to as well. But how to convince this man she was both a man and fourteen and not a Figaro native? She fumbled around for a way until the man asked her again. "Boy? You deaf or somethin'?"

"No," she mumbled quickly, trying to 'manify' her voice as much as possible without sounding ridiculous. Luckily for her, boys her age usually had light voices. She tried to think of her brothers' annoying way of talking to help her along. "I'm, uh...looking for a seat, is all."

The bartender scrubbed his cup with a laugh. "Alright then, but excuse me for this, but I can't let you go in any further until I know your age."

"I'm fourteen," she muttered, feeling her heart flutter in both fear and exhilaration. She revealed her coin pouch. "I just want some wine...sir."

The bartender looked at the pouch as if it were nothing more than one simple piece of gil and then back at her. "That's all and well, but words don't prove much. Let me look at your face, boy, then I'll let you in."

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. She was sure if she didn't have green hair or blue-purple eyes revealing her face would have been enough for the man. She didn't exactly look like a pretty little girl. She bit her lower lip, thinking hard.

The dark voice from before laughed. Don't be stupid...he just wants to see your face. And in this light...

Emma lifted her head just enough so the man could catch her face. He looked at her for a moment, never stopping his scrub of the cup, and then smiled. "Alright then, pick a seat and I'll be with you soon." and then he turned back to his counter, laughing as soon as he was within hearing shot of the men at the counter.

She was surprised to have gotten by his check through, but then again, she never should have doubted how others took her appearance. Maybe the girls at the Academy were right...maybe she looked too much like a boy who hasn't hit puberty yet. Instead of wallowing on it, like she would have any other time, she hurried to a far off and darkened corner where no one sat, where the warmth of the fire could not reach. The last thing she wanted was to be seated near men who would eventually catch on.

The bartender came over a moment or two later, corking an eye brow at her when he saw her kicking her feet from the height of her chair. She immediately stopped, blushing, hoping he didn't think too much of it. "Alright...?"

Oh...he wants a name!' she thought with a laugh. The name she gave felt like it would come out the most realistic, like it belonged to her still, that the bartender would believe it. "Aden."

"Alright Aden," he shook his head, clearing having wanted a last name. "What'd you want, eh?"

"Wine," she answered with a smile.

"Wine what? We have several different kinds."

She thought for a moment. "Do you have Figaro classic?"

"White or red?"

Emma could hardly contain her delight. Her brothers haven't even had Figaro white wine, only red! "I'll take the white!" she said, a bit too enthusiastically. The man jotted it down and asked if there was anything else s/he wanted. Emma shook her head and waited patiently as the man returned to his counter. When he returned with a mug and the bottle, intending to take the bottle with him, she stopped him. "I'll take the bottle, too."

"Young man, in all due respect, this costs a lot more than a few coin, it is one of the most expensive in Figaro."

"I'll take it," she said, laying a fistful of gil on the counter. The man's eyes boggled at the mound of coin, mostly because the kid seemed to have had more than he had ever seen together at once, but he took the coin and left the bottle behind. Emma poured her first cup, all the way to the top, and sat aside the bottle.

The wine smelled like cranberries and tangy at the same time and yet as the smell left her senses, it blew away in a dark, musky smell. She sloshed it around for a moment or two, as if afraid to take the drink, and then took a gulp. The men from the front counter were watching, as well as a few from around the tables, and laughed when she made a 'blegh!' noise.

"Ahaha, sorry bucko, looks like its just a bit too strong for ya, eh?" one man at the counter with a thick beard said.

"More like he is just too puny for the taste," another said beside him, with red hair and angry eyes. "I bet he won't even finish that cup."

"That's a bet," another said at a table from behind him. "Twenty gil says he drinks it all."

"You're on," the angry one laughed, shoveling out fifty gil to set aside. "He won't make it through one cup!" The rest of the room watched Emma drink, still sipping at their own beer, laughing whenever it looked like the kid was going to spew or stop.

"Ah c'mon kid, I got bets ridin' on ya!" the bearded one hollered. "Suck it up! Be a man!"

Emma wanted nothing more than to giggle at his assumption but instead continued chugging down the oddly delicious bitter taste of the wine. It filled her belly with the fire of the sun, it felt, and made her head feel warm and fuzzy. And, thankfully, it turned that odd voice off. For now, at least. So, content on all fields, she finished her first cup.

The angry man growled. "Damn it kid!" and handed away his gil to the winner.

Soon enough the whole pub was lit with bets, laughter and singing. More and more men piled in around her table, drunk as a skunk and betting all their drinking money like crazy. By this time she was on her fourth cup and four women had wandered in the pub, cheering her on (saying 'You can do it little man!'), with one of them being a girl no older than fifteen at most. She had googly eyes for Emma, which the princess tried her hardest to ignore.

Getting someone to crush on her would definitely ruin both her cover identity and her fun. And she was really having fun, too. It might not have been what others her age did for fun, especially 'proper' girls, but it was a night where she felt she was free to do as she pleased.

She slammed the cup down, empty, and closed her eyes as if that would balance her and relieve her of her drunken stupor. She swore she heard someone yell, 'One more kiddo!', probably the bearded man, but she had enough. She couldn't take another drink, let alone a full cup. Plus, only one third of the bottle remained. She pushed the bottle back—earning a loud and disappointed 'Awww!' from nearly half the pub—and got to her feet, as hard as it was.

"Givin' up kiddo?" the bearded one ask, suddenly visible from his spot across from her table. Some of the men had taken a perch around her, as if being closer would encourage her—him—to keep drinking for their bets.

She stumbled, nearly smashing into another table. "Done...done..." she cried out, though it was through a laughing tone. "I've..." she buckled. "...I've got...something...else..." she leaned against the table, her head spinning. "Here," she threw coin across the floor, causing most of the people to dive and attack each other for the pieces.

"Ahaha," the bartender appeared, swatting his way through the crowd. "Alright kid, that was pretty impressive for such a youngster. Say, why don't you come back tomorrow? I could certainly use the attention for my dear old pub."

She rubbed at her eyes, tiredly. "No...maybe...too tired..."

"Understandable! You nearly drank yourself to death. There's this nice inn called the Shackled Islander just a few blocks down the road. Real good. Tell them I sent you and they'll let you in quick as spit, eh? In turn...think about coming back here. That sound good, son?" he patted Emma hard against her back, nearly taking her off her feet. "Just around the corner. Shackled Islander. Can you remember that?"

She nodded, though she couldn't really remember why she did it. "Hmm..."

"Good! Good! For now, be safe kid." he helped guide her out of the pub, laughing and chatting her ear off about 'all the help he would give' to him if s/he just came back one more time or so, making all sorts of promises, bets and bribes. But to she heard nothing but buzzing and humming, and felt nothing but the terrible burn in her head and belly, and practically ran away from the pub.

The world spun around her desperately and she felt her knees buckling under her weight the further she got from the pub. Come on, she thought sloppily. Just...have...to...get...to...inn... her legs gave in half way around the third block and she fell face first into the dirt.

When she managed to get back up she wasn't sure how long it had been but the moon was beginning to leave the sky and the shine of morning was burning in the horizon, moments away from rising. The burning in her head and stomach was still there and her weight felt unbearable still but she forced herself to make it to the bushes at least, out of the sight of others. But she collapsed only several feet away from where she had woken up.

"Ugh...what...what's wrong with me..."

She hadn't realized she said it out loud, not until someone lifted her by her arm and carried her away from the safety of the bushes, toward a brown and beaten old house. Was this it? Had someone figured her out? Or worse, wanted to kill her or ransom her away? She tried to lift her gaze to see who it was but her eyelids just wouldn't allow her to open them any further. Soon she was inside of a warm and cozy house and laid before the burning fireplace. It felt so nice, the warmth, that she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She woke later in the morning because of her arm had fallen asleep under her weight. She groaned, shifted and pushed herself off her arm and away from the fire. Another groan as her headache rushed back to her. She lifted her dead arm up to press against her forehead. "Uhh..."

"Careful," a male's voice warned softly, almost on the verge of laughter.

"Where...where am I...?"

"Out of the dirt," he said, teasingly. She tried to lift herself up but her muscles gave out and she fell into the softness of the rug beneath her. "Best stay down princess, until your head clears."

Princess? Her nerves became crippled. Someone knew! Oh, but she was so close to leaving, to head north, to finally being free of judgment and unjust treatment. Now she regretted drinking, regretted making South Figaro her first stop. She closed her eyes tightly and let the tears run down her cheeks. She knew for what she had done her parents would kill her or lock her away in a tower and never let her step outside. It wasn't asinine of her to think, she knew they were more than capable of doing just that.

"Don't cry," the man said, coming to stand beside her. She could feel him near, as if the air displaced because of his nearness. "Everything will be alright. Your mother will just hug you and the worst your father will do is spank you. Everybody makes mistakes Emma, everyone."

Emma? she echoed. No civilian would ever address her so informally. Now the voice struck a familiar nerve in the back of her mind. She knew this voice. Carefully she peeled her eyes open and saw the face of the Setzer Gabbiani's eldest son, Alexander, staring back down at her with a lopsided smile and his golden bangs tousled over his forehead and eyes.

He was wearing the armor he had when he went to the annual dinner, complete with the sword, but he had no cloak. And when she lifted herself up—admittedly with his help—she saw that he had covered her with his cloak. She blushed, not just from the act—something she read was very romantic and often used in all those romance books she had read—but because it smelled just like him, musky and she couldn't understand why it turned her stomach to cartwheels and how that feeling was different from the painful one.

"Easy now, I don't want you puking or passing out on me."

She swatted his hand away from her, weakly. "I'm...I'm fine."

"Are you?" he asked, gentle eyes searching hers. "You are freezing cold and yet you burn just as hot as the fire. Isn't that just odd?"

"I—I said I'm fine," she managed to say stronger than before. "I...I need to go, before...before..."

"Before? Before your parents find you?" when she looked away from him, he sighed. "Emma, your mother is hysterical. She's falling apart thinking you are out in some alley hurt and alone, and your father is blaming your brothers for your disappearance."

"Good," she snapped, all her anger against her brothers rush to the rim of her being. "I hope he hurts them the way he hurts me."

His eyes widened at that and she felt his hand relax against her lower back. "You don't mean that. I can see it in those beautiful eyes of yours."

"I do," she insisted hotly, looking at him now and most likely unaware that her eyes were full of tears. "Maybe they will understand what I go through. Maybe when father tells them they aren't good enough, they will understand. Maybe when mother tells Camb or Ben that she doesn't understand them, they will...they will under—understand." her tears were streaming down her face now and she covered her eyes. "Just leave me alone...please...I can't return, I can't."

"You can't, or won't?" Alexander laughed at her expression when she removed her hands to glare at him. "You think your parents hate you, don't you? Why? Because they tell you when you are being bad? When they tell you that you don't make sense sometimes? How does that mean they don't love you?"

"How doesn't it?"

"Emma...you are taking for granted what they have for you. They love you more than anything in the world. People who love you will be honest with you. Your mother doesn't mean it the way you take it, and your father only wishes for you to change your behavior. That isn't asking you to tear yourself apart and rebuild yourself to their standards."

How did he know what they said, how she felt? She looked at him, confused, and asked him just that. "You aren't the only one who can hear them bickering in the hallways you know. And Cadence often vents to me how they talk to you because she even hears them when she's with Cambyses...because they do not take care with their words. But she knows that they don't mean it the way it is said, the way it is taken. They love you Emma. They love you so much that they sacrificed what they had with you to make you better. They wasted all that time, far away, just for the chance that you lived long enough to have a life of your own." he took her delicate hand in his. "If that isn't love, then what is?"

For a moment she liked the way his hand cupped over hers but then her bitter and angry side yanked her hand away. "Why are you here?"

"I was requested to find you, by your father and mother."

"No...I mean..."

"Oh," he said with a smile, leaning away. "I was wrong and what's more, so were your brothers, of which I feel ashamed for having believed them. It appears you can have fun, even take risks I wouldn't even attempt." his warm smile made her own appear. "I wouldn't wish the consequences on my worst enemy though." her eyes darted away. "Your parents will not hurt you Emma, I was only teasing. You do not need to fear them."

"Have you ever been spanked?" she asked him suddenly, tears rolling down her eyes.

Alexander gazed into her eyes for a moment, wondering how he should answer her question, and why she was asking it. Of course he had been spanked, probably was spanked the most of all in the entire planet, every child was and those who weren't most likely ended up criminals or spoiled adults with no sense of right and wrong, or that there were consequences to every action.

"I have," he finally answered. "Most of my childhood I did things I regretted doing, said things I shouldn't have, treated people wrong and lied to my parents. My first spanking was a piece of wood. My mother smacked it across my ass...bum...so thoroughly I was sure there was nothing left of my backside to sit on. I remember telling her to 'shut up' and the moment I said it, I knew the outcome." he shrugged. "I didn't even lie to myself and say I didn't deserve it. Maybe spankings or punishments like that aren't appropriate punishments, but what else is there? It isn't like I believe my parents are some depraved criminals who beat me to near death for spilling milk or tracking mud through the carpets. They did what they thought was best and tried to raise me the way they thought was best. And...I don't want to gloat...but I think I came out pretty great." Her lips parted to release a giggle that made the room feel lighter, happier. "Why do you ask?"

"It feels like...like they hit me a lot."

"Hit you, or spank you? Hitting implies there was no reason, that they just smack you around to be cruel. You should be careful with how you word yourself Emma."

"Spank, whatever. What difference does it make?" She challenged him, eyes burning wildly. "They spank me for everything it seems...or did. Now they just take things away from me, all that I have. They just take and take and take. What could they possibly take from me now? They stole everything and for reasons I don't even understand!"

"Why?"

Confused, she looked at him. "Why what?"

"Why don't you understand?"

"I...I don't know, I just don't! And when I ask them why they punish me even more! How is that right? How is that fair?"

"You shouldn't question your parents," he said softly. "That is probably why they punish you. A parent isn't supposed to be questioned."

"But why aren't they? How...how am I supposed to know what I did wrong if—if I can't ask? W-w-what if I do it again?"

He blinked at her, a little lost on it himself. "I don't know Emma, it is just something a child shouldn't do. You should respect your parents, and questioning them in such a way is disrespectful. Think of it like this...how would you take it if you were king—excuse me, queen—and you passed a law that banned spanking and a group of adults, parents, started questioning you. Asking you why you think spankings are wrong, why you think you control them and what they do with their children. How would you take that?"

"They have to listen to a king and queen. That is different." she answered him, with a scoff, which made him smile.

"How is it different?"

"Because...you shouldn't disobey a king or queen."

"But why? What gives this king or queen the right to tell others what to do, and what's more, how do they earn the universal 'respect' from people to get them to listen to them? And how is that any different than a parent?"

She stared at him for a moment, obviously unable to give him answers. "It's...it's different."

"I'll tell you how it is different; your parents brought you into this world, they made it so you were secure and happy. They made it so that you could become the person you are. They love you when all the world would turn their backs on you. They would kill a thousand men to get to you. They would throw themselves off the castle towers just to make sure you were safe and happy. If that doesn't deserve your respect, your utmost obedience in return or at least obligation, then a king or a queen does not."

Emma wanted to be cynical and tell him her parents didn't exactly raise her but she understood the gist of it, she did, still...she couldn't help but wonder why asking why what she did was wrong. Respect shouldn't mean keeping your mouth shut and bowing to every command you were given. "Come on..." he held a hand out to her. "Let's get you home."

She narrowed her eyes, the voice in the back of her heard panicking. Don't go, don't go. You will only be forced to face stricter punishments...you will only face undeserved and inhumane treatment from your peers. Don't go. Don't go. Emma smacked his hand away, a bit surprised he didn't get upset. "I'm not going. I'm not going back to that...that..." hell! the voice shouted. "You can't make me go."

"You're right," he said, getting back to his feet. "I can't make you go back. You're a princess and I'm just some idiot who can't stop chasing pretty eyes." she blushed a little at that. "However, I can very well follow you. As a bannerman I cannot, in good faith, allow the princess to wander freely without some form of escort. So if you want to travel to the ends of the the planet, I will stay beside you, but if you get lonely, sad even, and dream of home...I will take you there. So, dear princess," his sparkling purple eyes caught hers when she looked up at him. "what will it be? Travel abroad or go home to your worried parents?"

"Why should I go back?! she asked him hotly, managing to kick his cloak away to get to her own two feet—though she wobbled fiercely. "All they do is treat me like—like I am nothing more than some...some child!"

"But you are a child."

She went on. "They talk about me like I'm not even there sometimes. They make fun of me, they look at me like I'm—I'm a monster. They treat me..." she tried to stop her crying to continue but covered her eyes, unable to continue without making her pain worse, or the tears. Alexander tried to comfort her, with words and gentle touches but her sobbing deepened.

"Do not cry Emma, your family loves you, they do. I swear it. Come back with me and I will prove it to you." she mumbled something about being spanked and that she didn't want to feel the spanking of her runaway and he laughed. "You think your mother would lay a hand on you? When was the last time you got spanked, six? Seven? You are too old for that now, they know it. Just come back with me Emma, come back with me and everything will be okay."

She sniffed against his chest, the voice in the back of her mind starting to fade away, though angrily. "He'll be...be so angry."

"Of course he will," Alex laughed. "But then he will be happy, grateful even, and everything will go back to normal. Just don't expect to get out of this without a punishment."

The dying voice warned, He'll send you away. He will send you far away—out of sight, out of mind. Don't go...you will only regret it. When Emma pulled away from Alex, a blush on her face and thankful for the fact that the heat could have very well put it there, she nodded. No! The voice cried, growing weak as her anger did. No! Don't do this! Don't!

"I'll...I'll go back."

"That's the spirit," he chirped brightly, leaning down to recover his cloak. He clasped it around his shoulders when she refused it again and gestured toward the door with a flourish. "This way, your highness."

••••••••••••

Nearly three days. That's how long she had been gone. It was driving Terra into hysterics. She wouldn't eat, drink or sleep much at all from the worry. She made sure she checked with the guards every couple of hours, asking them—though it sounded like pleading—if they had any news of her daughter. Whenever their answers came back empty her pain intensified and she would order more and more soldiers to search.

Edgar was busy talking to Locke and Celes, trying to convince them to check Maranda when they got back to the city, but Celes wouldn't. Not because she didn't want to bring Emma back, she had explained, but because she knew the girl could not have gotten that far.

"You are underestimating my daughter," he tried to say without pushing too much venom into his voice. "She is fearsome in her intelligence. She would have easily found a way. What harm will it do you to search the city?"

Celes glared, hotly. "Because unlike in the kingdom's capital, I will not subject my people to unjust house searches and curfews to achieve personal gains of any sort."

So. That's what it came down to. She was questioning his leadership. "For your information," he growled, ignoring Locke's 'please guys, calm down!'. "they are my people, you just govern them in my absence, and I don't buy you wouldn't search houses if your daughter vanished at such a tender and vulnerable age. Lastly, not that your opinion matters, we didn't subject our people to 'unjust house searches'. We asked and if they said we could, we did."

"Sure," she snapped.

Before Edgar could go off the wall Locke intercepted their battle. "Calm down you two! Emma is missing and you choose now to start a petty argument?" They both looked away from each other with a 'hmpf!'. "Good. Now that you two are squared away, we can get to the real business. Edgar, you said you sent your son off with Setzer's boys? Did they really not get any information?"

Edgar sighed. "The two youngest did, from a village south of here. They found a few people saying they saw someone Emma's height wandering around the village. They...they all assumed it was just some street boy, some urchin. After that, the trail went cold. We haven't heard back from Alexander yet."

"Damn," Locke mumbled, then glared at Edgar. "Why did you have to make her be so...so damn...willful!"

"I didn't do this!" he cried out.

"Maybe she just had enough," Celes pointedly looked at Edgar. "I certainly would have runaway if I were her, only I wouldn't return."

"What are you saying?"

Locke looked at them with such a pleading face. "C'mon guys, don't do this. Stop acting like children."

They ignored him. Celes was obviously not in the mood to be quieted; she wanted her words out in the open. "What I am saying is that your daughter has been practically dragged through the mud by your sons. They treat her as if she means nothing." Edgar made a disgruntled expression. "Gods be good...of course you wouldn't notice."

"Notice what? What are you accusing my sons of?"

"I'm saying, you pompous jackass, that your sons have been treating your daughter like she is nothing but—excuse my language!—shit! You don't even notice that they make your daughter cry! You don't even notice, or maybe you do and just don't care, that she locks herself up in her room all day just so she isn't bothered by anyone."

Edgar snorted, brushing her comments off and turned away, toward the window. "And how would you know? You haven't been around my daughter. You don't know her or her situation."

"You're right," Celes said, softer, and Locke thought he saw a disappointed and sadness growing in her eyes. "I have the misfortune of not knowing her like that...but what my daughter witnesses, what the soldiers witness...that can't be denied. If you want to just disregard your daughter's pain, then no wonder she ran away." Celes left in silence, not even slamming the door.

Edgar stood rigid at the window, hands gripping the window seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. Locke opened his mouth to say something, anything, but could not find his words. Celes was right. Edgar was either purposely ignoring what was happening around him or just really oblivious to his sons. Unable to sooth Edgar away from his anger or grief, Locke muttered that he would be back later and followed after his wife.

When they were gone, he released a sigh. He knew it wasn't the cause of his sons that forced his daughter into feeling the need to runaway. No. He wasn't oblivious to how his sons treated her sometimes, he even got on their cases, no. It was his fault and knowing that fact hurt him. It was his stupidly that drove his daughter to feel alone and unwanted. He should have listened to Terra...he should have gone right back to her room when Terra suggested they do, but instead he delayed and that gave his daughter time to stew and decide living with her family wasn't worth the pain.

Tears burned in his eyes. Oh Emma, my sweet little girl...please...come home. Come home and be safe. Please.

••••••••••••

The carriage ride back to Figaro Castle was mostly quiet, mostly due to the fact that Emma had a very nasty hangover, but also because Alexander had no idea how to proceed with any form of conversation about the situation. It also didn't seem appropriate to engage her for chat when she was feeling so lonely and unloved by her family.

She was wringing her hands together, dreadfully watching the landscape rush by in the familiarity of Figaro, her eyes still red from her last cry. There was no tinge of a smile on her face, no smidgen of happiness to be recognized in her face. Just fear of the unknown or what she believed to be in her future. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, knowing just how many girls found that comforting at a time where they were sad, but he wasn't sure how the princess would take it. Or, rather, how the king would if he found out.

So he sat in silence too, occasionally looking over to make sure she was alright. It wasn't until the sun started to lower into a warm sunset that she fell asleep, head leaning against the window of the carriage and hands still wrung together in her lap. It didn't look like restful sleep, but it didn't look restless either. She was just...exhausted. He was sure it had more to do with her emotions than just her day of drinking (that he so badly wanted to commend her on having finished so much wine). Oh yes. He had found out about her escapades when he arrived in town and started questioning people.

Some googly eyed girl had told him that some strange boy had stumbled into the The Brass Lass and drank himself into a stupor through bets, laughter and 'manliness'. At first he wanted to see the "tiny tyke" the girl was rambling about, having forgotten about the princess for just a moment, but then the girl said something didn't seem right after some questioning.

"Aden," she answered when he asked the identity of the 'young man'. "He was dressed like some handsome stranger! I bet under that hood he looks like some knight! Or some lord's son. I mean, who else walks around with that much coin?"

"Coin?" Alex asked, brows furrowing.

She nodded furiously. "He just came into the pub with a giant bag of coins...didn't sound much like a boy...but then again, he's still young. But then he started drinking and drinking! I bet he'll be back tomorrow. Oh, I hope he will be back tomorrow." there was a lovesick emotion in the girl's eyes and Alex chuckled.

And then he went for the pub, his suspicions telling him that this 'Aden' was no more a boy than he was a woman. When he arrived, finding the pub empty of this Aden, he asked around for further details. "I thought he was going to pass out after the first cup," an angry sounding fellow said from his seat, having just woken from his drunken state. "Sounded like his balls hadn't dropped yet either." At that the man started laughing so hard he choked. "Strangest thing seeing a boy so young caring so much...lost a lot of coin on him, too. Still, it was entertaining enough."

"Do you know where he went, this Aden?"

"Ah...now that I think about it, the barkeep suggested he go around the corner to the Shackled Islander. That's all I know. Say, if you find him...tell him I'll take him up on a drinking competition, would you?"

Alexander wanted to tell the man this Aden was not a boy, but the thirteen year old daughter of Edgar and Terra Figaro, but he didn't want to ruin the guy's day by making him worry about legal ramifications of not only neglecting to stop an underage kid from drinking but that of the daughter of the king and queen. It would have been funny to see this man sputter and choke, but he passed it up to head to the inn.

Luckily enough for him, he spotted some kid sprawled out in the dirt, out cold. When he attempted to lift the boy up he was surprised to have found the princess under the hood—surprised to have found 'Aden' so quickly.

And that was that. And now here he sat, beside the sleeping princess, wondering how the day's events were going to work itself out when they arrived at Figaro. Carefully he peeled his cloak over and draped it over her body. "Things will be easier in time." he whispered to her.

When Figaro's eastern gate was in sight and the man driving the carriage hollowed back, "We're here." Alexander took a deep breath. He had to figure out a way to properly explain to Edgar and Terra the amount of insecurity, fear and loneliness their daughter was feeling to drive her to such extremes. He also hoped that by then the girl's obvious hangover would be long gone but he wasn't going to hold his breath. He knew it was highly unlikely. So he tried to think of something to say about the drinking but not even he could think of a viable reason, no justification, for her actions. He came up with nothing.

Even as the carriage pulled in through the gate doors and one of the soldiers blared a horn of warning, probably a signal to the king and queen of their daughter's safe return, Emma's eyes fluttered open. For a moment it looked like she had forgotten where she was with the way she looked around, but then her eyes widened in a sense of panic, and she remembered. He tried to calm her. "Don't worry princess. I will handle this." And to his surprise she didn't argue. Instead, she cuddled into his cloak, as if it could protect her from the onslaught of her father and mother's rage and punishments.

Alex could see the figures of the princess' parents coming through the inner gate doors, with two more behind them. He guessed it was Cambyses and Benjamin, but he couldn't figure out why they were there. It was something to be dealt with, in private, by the hands of the parents. Emma noticed where he was staring and saw her parents. She let out an audible gasp he thought truly chilled him. Did she actually expect some brutal rage from her parents?

The carriage pulled to a stop and he turned to Emma. "Just stay right behind me and I will talk with them." she nodded and took his hand. He liked the way her hand felt, soft and warm, but pressed his attention to the people outside instead. He opened the door and helped her out before he marched toward the king and queen who were practically running over to them.

Although Emma stayed behind him, hand clutched in his, Terra ran over and wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed her tight, sobbing. "Oh my baby, you're safe, you're safe." and then she smothered her with kisses. Edgar stood in place, eye brows furrowed and nose flared. Benjamin and Cambyses stood several feet behind him, arms crossed and particularly giddy expressions on their faces.

"Move," he ordered Alex, trying not to shove the man away to get to his daughter. "Now."

Alexander lifted a hand to block him from the girl and mother. "Now, your majesty, I think you should know that your daughter has been through a lot. I'm not telling you not to punish her, I'm just trying to say—"

"Get the hell out of my way," he warned, giving in to shoving the young man out of the way. Emma gave a startled jump as her father's hand tightened around her arm and pulled her out of her mother's grasp. "Where were you?! What were you doing?!" and then he smelled her breath and looked appalled. "You...you've been drinking?"

"I...I only had a little, I swear." she whispered, feet planted firmly in the sand and arm tensed, as if ready to run away to her mother. "I swear it."

Edgar was furious. "How dare you put us through this! And for what?! For what?!"

Alexander intercepted, pulling the girl free from Edgar's grasp and placing a palm on the king's chest, to act as a shield. "Calm down. It isn't like she is—" his words stopped when Edgar punched him, knocking him into the sand beside Emma and Terra. The queen gave a sharp gasp, staring wide eyed at her husband.

"Do not tell me what to do, especially when it regards my children! Do you understand me?!"

Emma's mouth was agape, horrified. "Father, he didn't mean it like that, he was just trying to—" and then he slapped her across her face so fiercely that she tumbled back onto her buttocks and cried out from the pain.

Terra lost it.

She ran toward Edgar and shoved him back, calling him this and this—though not even in her rage could she muster up the real nasty words. Emma just stared up at her father in complete and utter shock, tears brimming in her eyes and a hand over her redden cheek. Cambyses and Benjamin—having been grinning like a right pair of asses—immediately gave pause, a little shocked themselves.

Edgar had never seen the look on Emma's face before. She looked terrified...of him. The look in her eyes softened him and he regretted smacking her, but his fury was his resolve; he had been through hell wondering where she was and if she was safe. She needed to know this was unacceptable...no, beyond that. She needed to know that she could not even think about repeating herself.

"How dare you! How dare you!" Terra cried out, smacking at his chest in feeble attempts to hurt him. Edgar removed her from his side, to her chagrin, and glared daggers at his daughter.

"Get to your room young lady and do no leave it." She didn't move, still staring at him. "Right now!" and then she briskly got to her feet and ran away, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. Alexander rose to his feet, swiping away the trickle of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You don't deserve her," he spat at Edgar's feet and then turned to walk toward the eastern halls to the castle. Cambyses sent Benjamin after Emma and strode up to his father.

"That was uncalled for! You shouldn't have hit her. Not like that." he took his mother's hand. "We'll clean up your mess."

Edgar tightened his hands at his side. "Do not lecture me on parenting." and then he turned away from them and stomped away, toward the western gates. Terra could only stare after him, tears in her eyes.

"What has gotten into him?"

Cambyses shrugged. "I don't know, but we should see to Emma."

••••••••••••

Cambyses left her at the end of the stairs with a 'good luck' and then went in the other direction, most likely to search out his father. As suspected Emma's door was shut and locked, and standing by her door, Terra could hear her daughter weeping. Terra wept as well for her daughter was sobbing over miscommunication, over her belief that her parents and family hated her so thoroughly they did nothing but torment her. Terra listened as her daughter asked the gods to help her, to change her into something her family would love, what was expected of her.

'Will me to change,' she cried. 'I don't want to be this way anymore...I don't want this feeling.'

And Terra turned away, wiping at her eyes and went to scold her husband. She found him in the study, fuming over his papers, glaring darkly at the words yet not reading them. He was in the middle of thinking, she knew, but about what? She hoped it was about their daughter for when she slammed the door behind her, she let loose a storm.

"You will never hit her like that again! Never Edgar! Am I clear? That was not a punishment, that was just cruel!"

"I understand," he mumbled, ashamed of his earlier behavior, but still firm on his stance. "I hadn't...I hadn't meant to, I just—I just lost it Terra. She had us worried sick, she could have died, and for what? Because we punished her?"

"That doesn't matter anymore," Terra snapped. "We need to talk about what is really wrong here Edgar. It isn't that she ran away. It is that there is something different about her and we don't understand it. And neither does she. Edgar can't you see it? She doesn't understand! She's turning into a—"

"A bad seed," he quickly added. "I agree that you were right...we should have went back to her room immediately to explain ourselves, to get her to understand, but—"

"But nothing!" she yelled, throwing his things off the table to get his full attention. "She's suffering! She is tormented by her brothers, by the students, by life and we haven't done a thing to help her!"

"Tormented by her brothers?! Don't tell me Celes filled your head with those lies? Emma knows her brothers are not serious with what they say!"

"Celes didn't have to. I have seen how our boys treat her. Even if some of what they are saying is supposed to be a tease it isn't to Emma. She sees it as anything but. We need to talk to our boys, we need to set up boundaries, we need to—"

"Control what people say in her academy?" Edgar asked hotly. "You would have me tell these people what to feel, what to say and think?"

"Edgar, no, I mean—"

"Our daughter is important to me Terra. I love her more than anything in the world, you know this, but there are things not even a king can do, or should do."

"I don't want her going to the academy anymore then." Terra whispered, eyes watching her husband's face shift into confusion. "The kids there are too old Edgar or too mean. They will only see her as an outsider. She had friends...if you could call it that...in Thamasa because they were around her age. I know the Golden Lion Academy is where you dreamed for her to be but I think it is time we consider placing her someplace else. It means more to me to know that my daughter isn't being tormented by her peers than my daughter going to the best school on this planet. She will fight it, but I do not care."

"What academy, then? Hm?"

"I don't know, " she said. "I don't care either, but she's not staying there anymore."

"This is nonsense, woman," he grumbled. "Until we come up with a solution, she stays at Sunset."

"Then you need to make changes!" he was startled by her outburst. "If she doesn't improve, if she continues to get lost in her troubles, we will lose her!" and then she stormed off.

••••••••••••

She fled. She tried to run without her brothers seeing her face but they had watched, they had seen her shame. Her humiliation. She knew she would never live it down. They would chuckle about it while her back was turned, talk about it at the Academy and laugh whenever another student joked about it. They would stand by as the world tore more pieces of her away each and every day.

She slammed her door shut, locking it to prevent her parents from barging in, and saw—to her complete horror—that several guards had been stationed outside her window to prevent her from leaving once again. All it did was take away from more of her privacy, took more away from her. She screamed at them, watching as they lifted their faces upward, and then slammed the windows. She sealed them shut with the curtains and fell to her knees by her bed, sobbing and trembling.

Her cheek still burned from where her father had struck her, still felt as hot as coal, and was still as red as a cherry. She never would have expected her own father to smack her like that. The worst punishment she had ever gotten before was a spanking, only fifteen whacks, when she was nine years old. She had told her mother she didn't care about being quiet and would do whatever she wanted. Her father had spanked her with his hand and she never thought it was all that bad but it was enough. But now, was this how he would punish her? Smacking her like she was some wench of a back alley pub?

Her tears raced down her cheeks, irritating the sting. I am not welcomed here!

That's right...you aren't, the dark voice crept in, chillingly. All they do is mistreat you. They hit you, insult you, degrade you...and what do you do in return? She squeezed her eyes, as if to push the voice away. They would call you a psychotic for this. They would instill in you fear of your own person. They would take your sanity. They don't want you. Leave them all behind. Follow me, follow me away from it all.

She bit down on her lips, straining, as if the voice had a grasp around her. "Gods..." she whispered aloud, still crying. "...I ask you of much, I know...but there is one thing I truly desire." They don't care for you either, the voice warned. They left you here with them. They let you suffer. "Will me to change," she cried. "I don't want to be this way anymore...I don't want this feeling...make me better. Make me just like them...make me what they want me to be...I beg you."

Beg all you want, they answer to no one.

Go away, please, she begged the voice. Leave me be! Leave me be! The voice growled and began to fade.

You will call on me...whether you like it or not...you will have me fix this... and then the voice was gone; all was quiet. It felt like all of her energy had been drained from her. She moped the tears away from her eyes and struggled to make it to her bed, too tired, too hurt, to get cleaned or dressed. She passed out along the bed's width thinking about a change in the future, thinking of a future where her brothers and parents smiled at her for being herself. It was a beautiful future.

In the morning she awoke to the hum of the outside activity. Shouting, laughing, hammering and the like. It had begun. They were preparing for the Antlion Race and the Rite Ceremony for the boys. She rubbed at her eyes, now sore, and hmm'd. The hammering was so loud it felt like they were striking her head instead. Carefully she made her way to the window and peaked through the curtains.

Several men were building tables and chairs in the openness of the court yard while women and kids made the ribbons and other decorations. Little girls were chasing each other through the garden with empty baskets—meaning to be filled with flowers and the like—while little boys, not yet ready for the rites, battles each other off with wooden swords and branches.

The older boys and younger men who had not won their rites were helping with the heavy lifting while the young women and older girls cooed at them and served delicious beverages—waiting hand and foot for them. It set her stomach in a boil. When she looked down, she could see that guards were still parked below her window, though she knew they were the same men from the other day. Their shift had changed.

She pulled the curtains closed, wishing not to provoke the voice in her head to come back. She needed to get clean, dressed and sneak out of her room for something to eat—all without being seen by anyone. To her annoyance, though, she managed to bathe and slip into fresh clothes when her mother knocked on the door.

Emma stood defiantly away from the door, arms crossed, as her mother spoke. "My princess? Are you awake?" a moment of silence, waiting. "Emma?" Emma couldn't take it. She couldn't be mean to her mother. She opened the door gently, letting her mother in, noticing Celes standing aside quietly. She had something in her arms, but before Emma could ask about it or inspect it any further, her mother's reactions stopped her thoughts.

Upon seeing her daughter's cheek was still red and slightly swollen, Terra enveloped her in her arms, squeezed her tight and smothered her—once again—in kisses. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry, here, here," she dug through a small satchel at her side and recovered an ointment she began to rub her on her daughter's cheek despite the protest she was getting. "Be still dear, I'm trying to relieve the pain."

Emma shooed the hands away. "I'm okay, really..."

Terra smiled at her, brightly. "Because you are a stubborn girl," she teased and put the bottle away. "I have a surprise for you."

A surprise? Why? I thought... "What do you mean?"

Terra could see the curiosity burning behind her daughter's eyes. "Remember what Celes and I talked about with you after the annual dinner?" How could she forget? It wasn't exactly a good thing. And everyone knew the bad stuff stayed with you longer than the good stuff. She nodded. "Well..if you are willing I mean...I brought Celes with me. If—if you want to talk some more about it, I mean."

Emma opened her mouth to say something and then shut it. It was obvious her mother was trying very hard to make amends for what happened the other day. Who was she to deny her mother this? "I thought I was in trouble...?" it didn't seem right that she was getting surprises when they were angry with her.

"I don't care about that," she said with a smile, happy to see that Emma's lips pulled up into a smile. It was something her mother didn't say much. "So, would you? Listen, I mean?"

She was silent, and then she smiled. "Yes, please."

A moment later Celes entered the room and the bundle in her arm was revealed to be a basket of goods, mostly foods. They all settled on the floor beside her bed and set up the basket of foods and drinks. For a long time they did not bring up the Rites of Women, talking about this and that—they mostly talked about adventuring, sight seeing and the like. Celes answered Emma's questions about Maranda; how it looked, how the people were, how the weather was, how the politics were until eventually it led to the Rites of Women of Maranda and then, finally, to Figaro.

"Well, first," Celes smiled. "we talk about the entrance. Usually the entrance is picking a place to stage the tradition, like a temple or a ball room—ball rooms are usually picked for Coming of Age for girls. Once an entrance has been picked, the area is decorated in traditional Figaro colors, foods, tables and more. Depending on where you are, said colors and items can be different."

"Yes, and after that, they would teach the girl how to dance—at least a few steps—so she would be prepared for the Ceremony day." Terra added.

"And when the party starts, there are stages. One; a ceremonial caping done by the father or eldest closest male of the family, similar to the Figaro marriages. This caping is to signal the flow of the woman—your continuous periods until you reach The Final Phrase where you can no longer bear children—and the start of your prosperous life. The reason it is done by your father or eldest brother is because you came from your father's seed and he has to signal the world his daughter is now a woman. If a father isn't present, a brother or uncle can be used because—in tradition—your brothers or uncle are meant to guide and love you and protect you in your father's leave. Two; the ceremonial dance with your father, or your brother/uncle. This is for the father, really, as it is meant to show him that even though she is a woman, she will always be his baby. Also, traditional Figaro music must be played during the dance Three; The Open Dance. This dance can be between brothers, uncles, your father, friends, a lover—anyone. In Old Figarorian times, it was meant to encourage a healthy dosage of 'male interaction' for the girl and to offer a first basis to 'acquire' a man."

Emma's eyes widened, surprised. "Then I won't be married off?"

Terra and Celes exchanged looks, as if they weren't willing to answer, but then Terra looked at her. The expression wasn't very comforting. "A lot of fathers and mothers feel that arranged marriages should come next, that's true...but your father and I would never marry you off. Not without your consent."

Emma looked down at her hands, thinking on it. What about other girls? Do they marry men they don't love? It didn't feel right to her. Not at all. "Then...others can't say no?"

Celes nodded. "In Figaro they haven't gotten rid of it yet. Most civilians are very traditional. Your father tried several times but the Council turned him away each and every time."

"Oh," she simply mumbled, very thankful her father wasn't a traditionalist. Celes caught the girl's tone and smiled, tiredly.

"Let's just move on. We can talk about changing Figaro and her people later." she took a sip of her drink before she continued. "After the Open Dance, the festivals would start. Cakes, drinks, conversation, mingling, free dancing and more would occur. This is usually left up to the family of the girl to decide what happened during the festivals. It is tradition and highly decided by many fathers and mothers that this would be the first day their daughter would get to drink her first cup of wine, though she was not permitted to drink after that point until—"

"Why?" Emma asked hotly. "Why are the boys allowed to drink when they haven't completed their Rites but not the girls?

"Because," Terra answered patiently. "Men seem to think it takes more to be a man than it does to be a woman. Who knows why they thought it up."

"I know why," Celes gestured to their cups. "Because men like to control people, especially women. Back then it was all about the men. They were so terrified of us, of things different than them, that they oppressed women. What is more scary than a being that can bring forth life, bleed for a week and still live longer than you? They wanted to split women's Rites into two, as if to prevent us from assimilating into society fully."

Her next question made the two pause. "Why didn't father want to talk about this?"

"Well..." Terra started but never finished.

"Because for women in Figaro, the Entrance is not the last Rite for women to pass to be recognized as women. They must be married. There are two stages. Think of the Entrance as the 'studies' and the marriage as the 'test', that you instantly pass once you actually marry."

Emma figured as much. If something as silly as drinking wine was left up to the men to decide if they were allowed to drink it, then something like that was more than plausible. "So?" She still didn't understand why her father was so reluctant to talk about it.

"Whenever you are married you proceed with a slightly different Ceremony," Celes said, unsure of how to advance. "Your father didn't want to speak about it because you would have to have this Ceremony on a very particular day."

Emma frowned. "What...?"

"And since you, for example, freshly married your father or the closest to your father would have to lead you off to your room with your husband. And then wish you a happy, long life before you and your husband would, well..."

"...start a family, basically." Terra finished. Her daughter's eyes went wide in confusion. "It is meant to start your family early, and give you both joy. Your father doesn't want to think about you like that, dear."

Emma looked at them, thinking, still very confused. Think about me like that? What does that even mean? They are giving me more questions than answers... she thought on it, considering what it could be. Her mind could only find the answer in having a family of her own. Does he not want me to have a family to call my own? She stared at her mother's eyes, lost. Or does he think I shouldn't?

That suddenly reminded her of a conversation she had with Relm not that long ago, when her daughter had been born. Emma had asked how she could have a daughter too and the woman laughed and said, 'when you are older, I will tell you how children are made'. That did not come to pass and now that curiosity was on fire again.

"Mother?" she asked a moment later, unsure. Her mother hmm'd. "How do I have a family of my own?"

Her mother's face turned white. "That's a matter for later Emma, not for now."

"Why?" she asked, blatantly.

"Because adult issues are for adults," she simply said, meekly.

Oh, Emma thought. Another thing I can't know or do until I'm an adult. "Well then, are girls also forced to start families of their own when they are married?" Emma wasn't sure why her mother's eyes widened or why she looked so nervous. In her mind's eye, she could see herself with her own family and the thought was oddly comforting. Maybe I'll have children of my own and they will love me...

"Would you have to what?" her mother asked finally, uncertain, acting as if she didn't catch the question. Emma puffed, irritated, and repeated herself. This time her mother could not avoid the question and she looked pleadingly at Celes, who laughed happily, clearly amused.

"When you are married to a man that you love, it won't bother you to make a family." That was not an answer. Emma stared, really annoyed now by their attempts to get around the question. "That is an issue for then though, not for now, when you are so far away from adulthood and marriage."

Emma was quite annoyed, and angry. What she was told was really no more than the presentation of more questions, questions they refused to answer because she wasn't an adult yet. All that she could gather was that, as a female, her life was restricted in almost every sense of the word by males of her family. She would live to marry a man she didn't know and not know the freedoms her brothers enjoyed until he, or her father, declared she was fit enough to do so.

She thought, staring; Why can't they act more like Thamasa? "So I can't sit at father's dinners and discuss 'adult' matters with everyone else until I'm married or given consent?" or move to another country, she thought grimly.

"I'm afraid so, dear, unless something changes."

"That's no fair..." she whispered, looking back down at her empty cup. What kind of life is that? You can only look forward to your freedom and individuality when you marry and even then it is false freedom and individuality? It was just pathetic. And there was the fact that she would never marry so no one would ever consider her as an adult. I'll be alone...alone and a slave to everyone else. And then a horrible thought crossed her. No one likes me, she thought pitifully. What if no one ever wants to marry me? What would I be?

Horrified, she asked, "What if no one ever wants to marry me, mother? Would I be a child forever?"

Terra shot a glance over to Celes, before she looked back. "You'll find someone, dear, don't worry about it." and then they got up. "You just try to behave from now on, okay? If you're good, I'll take you to the book store after your grounding and you can buy all the books you want, or the entire store." Emma gave her mother a gentle smile, intending to feign she was over her worry, and the two left.

••••••••••••

When Terra and Celes were far away from the princess' room, and very much alone, Celes stopped her by the arm and made her face her. There was something she wasn't quite sure about before, but the their discussion with the girl just confirmed it. "Terra...why do I get the feeling Emma wasn't given the talk yet?"

Terra's eyes went wide. "She was, once, it is just..." she hesitated. "...her Sand Fever made her fall ill again and she..."

Celes released the woman's arm. "I see..." she sighed. "When was she last told?"

"When we visited Thamasa shortly after she turned nine. We sat her down and told her. At least, some of it. We even told her about Mira."

"Why haven't you told her again? She needs to know Terra. She's...she's becoming a woman."

"I have asked Edgar to help me, a few days after she moved here, but he wouldn't have it and...well..."

"You had daughters before Terra. This is no different. Sit her down. Talk to her."

"I want to, I do, but she's so different Celes, and I don't want to tell her and confuse her, only for her to forget again."

"You can't act out of fear."

"It is easy for you to say," she said, a little hotly. "You don't have to deal with a daughter who could fall ill any moment, losing what makes her her. You don't have to try and get her to understand and not upset her. You have a..." she hesitated, very clearly going to 'a normal daughter'. Celes reached out to take her friend's hand.

"I understand it is difficult Terra, that much I do understand, but I know you know she needs to be told. If you are having trouble building the courage to talk to her about it again, I can help you."

"You can?"

"Of course," she said, smiling. "Pick a date, and a date that is near Terra, and I will be there."

Terra smiled. "Alright...I will."

"And don't tell your fool husband. He will only say you shouldn't."

"Oh, Celes, but I would have to...he is her father. Besides, I think he would be okay with her knowing. He only has a problem being involved. You know how shy he is about it."

Celes laughed, very much pleased by the man's squirming. "I still can't believe how pinkish he gets around such topics. I remember when Cadence first bled and he was there. I swear he was stuttering and steaming out of his ears. Well then, good luck with the talk. I doubt he'll agree but even if he doesn't, put your foot down. You are the mother and she is your daughter. It must be done, before it is too late."

Terra nodded. "Of course...I will talk to him tonight."

Celes hooked her arm through her friend's. "Now, what do you say we go tease your son? Cadence told me something quite cute." Terra giggled and allowed her friend to guide her away.

••••••••••••

It had been just a day and yet he could not hep but think that perhaps he had screwed it all up and hurt his daughter more than he needed to. And yet, as those thoughts came to him, he could not stop thinking about what could happen if she were to continue on the way that she was. What if she got herself hurt, or worse?

And aside from her potentially getting hurt, there were other outcomes that were not favorable, or right. What if her social awkwardness made her a pariah the rest of her life? Where could she find a husband? When could she make a family of her own? How could she live a normal, healthy life? Would she ever know the joy of holding a newborn in her arms? Of holding the person she loved? Of being held? Of having her nightmares and dreams quelled or comforted in the warm embrace of a friend and lover?

I just want what is best for her...I want my baby to have everything in this world, because she deserves it.

He sighed and leaned back into his chair. His study was well lit to accommodate for the closed windows, but it brought a heavy smoke smell to the room. Sometimes it was comforting to lock himself away in his study. The scents reminded him of his father, what little he could remember that seemed to fade the more he tried to recall it.

She's the first daughter born to Figaro in nearly three generations, he thought sadly. How would you handle this, father? His father was no man of the past, but even Edgar knew if he had had a sister, the first thing their father would have done would be to create a match, to find a worthy suitor for her. So that she would have someone to take care of her for the rest of her life when he was gone.

There isn't someone worthy of her, he thought. The lords would want her not to love her, but to get a grasp at power. The lords' sons would be no better. Another person of royalty was nonexistent outside of the Veldtic tribes and the Grand Royal Family, unless he considered marrying her off to unborn sons of Relm and Gau. There's always one of the Sons of the Sun, but only two of them are close in age. The other seven...some of them are at the ages of my sons, others almost as old as Gau.

His thoughts then went to Qudin hed Sh'elda. The age is considerable in length, but he is a good man. A strong, wealthy man, and would never let anyone hurt my daughter, who would never think about hurting her himself. He had known the Veldtic prince since he was a boy, and knew his father even longer. And Emma seemed quite enthralled by the man's cultural differences at the very least. It was a place where maybe infatuation could begin. Perhaps... he sighed again but this time he rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

There was a gentle knock on the door. He knew that noise well. His wife always deemed it necessary to knock to enter his personal study, even though he constantly told her what was his was hers, that the room was made more enjoyable with her presence. She was a considerate woman though, and would not stop. Sometimes he wondered if her training in the Empire drilled that into her.

"Terra, my dear love, come in here." She opened the door and smiled fondly at him as she stepped in. She was sure to close the door. Edgar stiffened. That usually meant she had something she needed to talk to him about that others could not know about. Or, he was in very big trouble. "What brings my lovely wife to my humble little office?"

"Our daughter." she simply said, walking over to sit beside him. "I...well no...Celes and I had a very long chat with her."

He raised a brow. If Celes was involved, he would not be surprised to find out they were talking about how evil he was as a father. "And what did this long chat entail?"

"After the annual dinner, we actually talked to her. To convince her you did not hate her." that quieted him. "We told her that it wasn't because you didn't like her that you were trying to get her to be quiet, but as a king you needed that respect. It led to us telling her that since she is a child, she is not given the freedoms of her older brothers."

He feared what happened next. "And?"

"She wanted to know when she would be considered old enough to engage the discussions you keep her out of. I...I could not tell her at the time, because I knew where it would lead and I wasn't ready for it. So we told her we would tell her later."

Now he was understanding. "I see...and later was today."

"Yes," she admitted sheepishly. "Well, almost. We did not get further than the Rite of Women, but...oh Edgar...she asked me how and when she would start her own family. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything."

He looked away. "I know I am not always prepared around her concerning her growing womanhood, but I have been thinking about it as well."

"You have?"

"Yes. It is time we tell her again, and ready her."

"That is good to hear," she said. "I came here to tell you that I am going to sit her down to have the talk. I will muck it up, I'm sure, but...but she needs to know. I have been blessed that she has not had her bleed yet, but it is approaching Edgar. I am sure of it."

"I understand, I do," he grumbled over the embarrassment he had of the subject. "And I was thinking about the future, as well. Perhaps we are both wrong Terra. Perhaps we cannot help her through parental guidance like punishments and the like."

"What do you suggest then?"

"Nothing as of yet, but I cannot lie...my thoughts earlier were with finding her a suitor." that made his wife stiffen. "however, as hard as I thought, I could not find anyone I could trust with my little girl, and those who I could I cannot put her with. The age...the age difference is just too great. I thought then of Qudin. He is only a few years older than Cambyses, but he is a good man Terra. A great man. I know he would take care of her. He would never hurt her and give her everything she would ever want in this world."

Slowly Terra said, "and why have you decided not to grant this marriage?"

"Why? Why indeed...it could be the age, it could be not wanting to put her in a loveless marriage or it could be more selfish than that, that I do not want to send her across the world where I cannot reach her. To be honest, I haven't truly decided about it." he reached out to take his wife's hand. "I do know what to do now though..."

"And what is that?"

"She must be educated in the womanly matters, as soon as possible. Have you decided on a date?"

"No, I was hoping you would help me decide."

Edgar considered it for a moment. Thirteen...she's far older than the boys when I gave them the talk and older than the first time we tried. And then he thought of the day he, Terra, Relm and Gau sat her down when she was just nine, but she had forgotten it all after another episode. The seizures had taken so much, leaving their daughter an amnesiac once again, though thankfully the episode had not been as dramatic as the last. She had still recalled them all, only that year had been taken from her.

He then recalled the day he first sat Cambyses down. He was ten, and easily prone to blushing when he appeared around Cadence. He understood it and that was that. From that day on, Cambyses was different. Older. And when Benjamin was told, he laughed it off, finding the idea of it all hilarious, but went on just as his brother. But what would his little girl do now? What would she say? Would she change so thoroughly the bright, curious, sweet little girl would be left behind? Like an impression in the sand slowly but surely washed away by the waves? Was he ready for that?

It isn't about me though, is it? She must know for her own good, for her benefit. He knew when. "We shall tell her after the Antlion race."

"but the race is three weeks from now and that might be too far. When do we tell her 'after' the race?"

"It is not too far away. She's only turned thirteen six months ago Terra. We have time. Besides," he cleared his throat. "I mean to make her punishment fit around the race."

"However do you mean?"

"She will be forced to attend and to interact with as many people as she can. Perhaps she will find a crush among the boys her age, or perhaps she will stumble into a friendship with girls her own age. There will be, after all, girls and boys from across the country."

Terra could not argue with that. She would love it if her daughter had other girls to hang out with. Who she brought over and they all gathered in the library to giggle over secrets or crushes or books or clothing. However, she knew that was unlikely. Her daughter was a strange thing to the world. They would never see how precious she was. And yet, Terra wanted it for her daughter so bad she started to cry.

How many visits did she have to Thamasa just to see her daughter playing alone? Who had no friends to speak of, or even school yard crushes where she and a boy would hold hands and eat out of the same lunch box? She had seen it in her kids at Mobliz, and when she had birthed a daughter of her own, she had hoped, prayed...

Edgar leaned forward to take her into a hug. "Sssh now, my dear wife, sssh. It will all work out for the best, just you see. Do not cry, my dear."

"I want her to be happy, to live a good life," she cried into his arms. He wanted the same. "She's not finding it here...no matter how hard we...I...try."

"It is because of the academy," he said softly. "There are too many there who mean her harm. If we can get her away from that, things will improve. I know it. She needs...deserves...the right environment to grow up in."

"And what environment could nurture our precious little girl better than here?"

"East Gate, or Gale." that stunned his wife. "I know how it sounds but they are fine schools, and one can keep the girls and boys away from each other. Coed academies breed such hostilities between girls. And Gale is splendid. It has advanced curricula that is suitable for her. It would give her a challenge, and plenty of things to do when she isn't in schooling."

"Edgar, she would be hours away."

"Yes, she would," he admitted quietly. "however, we are the king and queen of Figaro. We can make the time to visit her every day. We have airships at our disposal...well, two at the moment, and the finest bred chocobos in all the world. The trips could be doable."

"I don't know," she mumbled. "It...it is just so far away, and we have to consider how she will take it Edgar."

"Terra, my love, what would have rather have? Our daughter tormented by her peers and unhappy, or be forced to ride or fly a few hours to see her?" his wife considered it for a moment. "She is five years from the end of her schooling years, unless she wishes to continue to advance a specific career like her brothers, so it wouldn't be a very long wait. When she finishes, she can return."

"That is five years Edgar," she said sharply. "I have already missed too much of my little girl's life."

"Then what do you suggest? She needs a proper schooling, and I am not going to tolerate how she is being treated at Sunset any longer. Not for a day longer. I'm sorry Terra, but I will put my foot down if I have to."

"It isn't that I don't want her to leave her troubles behind Edgar, it is that she's my daughter. She has spent most of her life on Thamsa, away from me. I don't expect you to understand what it is I am feeling. You got to raise your boys from the start. You got to rear them and witness their growth. I did not for my only daughter. I am not losing what remains of my daughter's youth years! Do you hear me?!"

Edgar looked at her, stunned and absolutely attracted to her fierceness. "You are right, dear...I may be a little blind to the specifics of your desires, but I am not entirely blind to the overall issue. Do you think I like the idea of sending my little girl off again when I have only just got her back? It hurts me more than I can explain, and yet I know—as I did the first time we sent her away—that this is for the best. And that despite my feelings, it must be done, because this isn't about me or you or anyone else. It is about giving our daughter what she deserves and what she needs. And what she deserves and needs cannot be found here."

Terra knuckled away tears. "I've missed so much Edgar..."

"I know," he softened his voice and kissed her hand. "I know my sweet wife, but this is the price of parenting. Sometimes we have to make the hard choices, and then even harder choices, for the sake of our children."

She removed her hand to clear away the last of her tears. "Fine," she mumbled. "On one condition though."

He was almost afraid to ask. "And what is that?"

"She spends a year at whichever academy we pick, and then she fosters with Celes and Locke in Albrook for two years."

"And then?"

"She returns here, to Figaro. With me."

Edgar wondered if she knew what fostering meant. She's been reading the tomes again. "Terra...you do know that if she fosters with the Cole family, she will be even further away, right?" she nodded. "And why does that not upset you?"

"Because I know by the time that it comes to that, you will have passed the crown to Cambyses." his eyes widened. "And we will be free to leave this place...with our daughter."

"Terra...first of all, it isn't fostering if we go with her." she blushed a little. "but most of all, I made Cambyses the crown prince, yes, but that doesn't mean he's being crowned any time soon."

"Why not?"

"Because a crowned prince studies under the king for some years. He will be my shadow, watching and learning, where I will lend him power over that time to test him."

"So are you saying that you intend to hold the crown for many more years?"

"If I could give him the crown today, I would. I have grown so very tired of it, but that is not the issue, Terra. I cannot put the crown in the hands of someone who is not experienced. I must think as a king here, not as a father. You need to understand that."

"I understand, I just..." she sighed. "I just hate how much it hurts."

Edgar tried to warm her with a smile. "How about a compromise then, my dear?" she looked at him, confused. "A year at the academy, and a year fostering with the Cole family at Albrook. After which, she returns here. To stay with us, until I have groomed Cambyses into a proper heir. And then, once I have crowned him, we can go wherever...together. She can pursue a school of her choice and we will be there, ready and free."

Edgar knew that it may take years to groom his son, that Emma would be well into her early adulthood by that time, but he knew his daughter needed a change. The academy was doing far more harm than good. And now that he thought about it, a fostering with the Cole family was ingenious. Emma was clearly very smitten with Cadence and Celes, and Locke's antics. She would find that life exciting, especially when she knew she would be at Albrook.

His wife relented, accepted, and nodded. "Alright Edgar...if this is for the best, I will concede, but...I get the final say at which academy she attends. And I want you to know...I will pick whichever she wants. And I will not hear a single complaint from you. And," she added. "I am adding one more condition. At whichever school, should she not be happy or we find no improvement, I am canceling the deal and she will come home, permanently, and I will school her here if I must. You can accept, or you cannot, but the decision won't be made and acted upon without my consent."

He started to laugh. "It is no wonder my men adore you so much, my dear wife. I fear you are a much more compelling monarch than I." he began kissing her fingers up to her knuckles and hand. "What m'lady wants, she shall receive."

Terra giggled. "Oh Edgar, you never change..."

••••••••••••

The worst part about waiting on a punishment was the fear, and anxiety. Emma had no idea when her parents would appear, smirking, to deal out what they believed to be justice. In her mind, she had thought of a dozen different things. The ones that really made her anxious were the ideas that involved indentured work toward her brothers. She could not imagine digging about the pig pens that were their rooms, or doing their laundry, or cleaning their basin rooms, or making their beds.

She shuddered. She would prefer physical labor as a punishment.

Whenever her parents marched by her at the sup table—ignoring the snickering from her brothers when she arrived via the escort of Jakle—she waited and waited for the punishments, but they would only continue on eating or talking.

Are they not going to punish me? she thought on the third day, hanging off one side of her bed from across her back. The room appeared upside down to her and although it would make her head hurt later, it was strangely comforting. The sky looked like the ground through the window, and the ground the sky. Sometimes she found that humorous enough to forget her troubles.

Until she heard rapid knocking on her door. She startled and fell forward, hitting her head onto the floor. She mumbled and rubbed at the sore spot on her head as she approached the door. She was expecting to see Jakle or one of her nosy brothers, but instead she was greeted by the long, serious face of her father and the solemn one of her mother.

She gasped. "Mother, father!" she hoped they wouldn't realize she was just lounging about her room. If they figured it out, they might make one of the soldiers stand in the room and force her to do something 'educational' during her hours before sup and sleep.

This was it. They hadn't appeared at her door since the day she ran off. The long wait truly meant the punishment would be grand.

Her father spoke first. "We have thought on it and we have decided on how best to punish you, girl." she flinched. He only ever referred to her as 'girl' when he was very angry with her. His sons suddenly became 'boys', and come recently, she often became 'girl'. She kept her eyes down. "Your mother convinced me not to spank you on top of whatever we decide, considering you are no longer a toddler, but that made me decide the punishment needed to be a bit harsher."

Her mother elbowed her father hard in the ribs and he cleared his throat. "You will be attending the Antlion Race, and you will engage it as though you wanted to be there. You will help your mother with whatever it is she needs as well as anything else that might be needing doing. If that means you paint decorations, so be. If that means you help with supplies, so be it. If that means—"

"She understands, Edgar," her mother cut in sharply, annoyed.

He cleared his throat yet again. "Good. You will begin tomorrow morning and yes, that is before everyone else arrives to help. And if I so much as hear a complaint or suspect you are skipping your duties, your punishment will only grow and grow more fierce. Am I understood?"

Emma could not believe it. Her eyes widened and she looked at her mother, hoping for help. "You...you are making me go?" making me work like...like some slave? Terra nodded. "but...but...but..."

"There is no room for that now." her father said sternly. "If you had not wanted to be punished, perhaps you should have thought about it before you acted as foolishly as you did." Emma mumbled an okay. "Good. Perhaps if you behave and show me you can be mature about this, I will relent some." when she looked at him hopefully, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Perhaps." and then he turned and fled the room with his wife without so much as another word.

She wanted to run after them and beg for a different punishment and would have, had Jakle not appeared in the doorway a second later. She was too annoyed to deal with it, so she closed the door on him and went to drop back into her bed with a heavy sigh. Why had she run away?

Was this worth it?

---

The next morning went as expected. Her father had forced her to start the work a full three days before everyone else arrived to help setup the racing area and make the decorations and whatnot. Emma was lost those first few days. She had never had to do something like this before, and stumbled more often than she did something right.

Her mother was always by her side, correcting what she did wrong and politely showing her how it was properly done. It wouldn't have been too embarrassing by itself, but her brothers were always around, to rub it in her face that she was doing exactly what she hadn't wished to. It made her screw ups even worse.

On the first day, she was set to the task of bringing down barrels to the halls with her mother and a few soldiers, one of which was her escort Jakle. They weren't exceptionally heavy to most, but Emma struggled with them. They were a little taller than her knees, and bulged out at the sides so it was awkward to carry. It felt as if she were carrying around five cats shoved into a tight box. Everyone else managed to move a dozen of them in just a few minutes, but it took her half an hour to move five.

To say she was exhausted and annoyed would be an understatement. Finally, she had enough and pushed one of the barrels over onto the side and rolled it. When she went by her mother and the soldiers like this, they burst out into laughter. It made her cheeks pink but it was all that she could do. She simply did not possess the strength or stamina to keep up.

However, when she did her fifth run and lost her footing, the barrel went loose and rolled down the hall, until it smashed into the wall and broke into many pieces. She gasped and ran over to try and hide her mess, but her mother strolled down the hall just in time to see her lifting the pieces. She approached quickly.

"What happened here?"

"I—I b-broke one," she said quickly. "but I didn't mean to, I swear mother, I swear!"

Her mother laughed. "I own three children and I can say proudly none of them break things on purpose. Do not spend too much worry on it. We have dozens more in the cellars. And no, no, no, put those pieces down before you give yourself a splinter. Good. Now, follow me, we have other things to do before the day is out."

Emma had stepped cautiously over the broken pieces. "W-w-where are we going now?"

"To the music hall, of course. I received a note Master Aejon is there. He wants us to pick the music for the race's festivities." that made Emma perk up. She practically bounced in place.

"We can pick? For true?" they were heading down the halls rather quickly.

Terra said, "Well, so long as you don't tell your father," she passed a look over and winked. Emma giggled and promised not to. "Good. After that, we're heading to the field where the jousting will take place. Captain Wren is waiting for us there. He's with your brother."

That deflated her happiness quickly. "Camb?"

"No, Benjamin. They have a placement issue with the tourney stands. For heavens sake, it is like no one reads my layouts."

"M-maybe they didn't see them," she said, though even she was doubtful. Her mother laughed.

"They are men, Emma. They read them. They just thought their ideas were better. Well, no matter, we shall see to it soon enough, but on our time, not theirs."

"Won't that upset them?" she asked, quickening her pace to keep up with her mother's rather long strides. It was beginning to tire her.

"A woman should never arrive on the time of a man, Emma." she explained. "because then they will get in a habit of calling you to and fro at their whim. We have little power, so let us not squander one of the few we have left, hm? Besides, a good wait on a man is healthy for them. It gives them time to think out the stupid things they might say to us. At least most of the time."

"Do you make father wait, too?" she asked, curious, and it caused her mother's face to turn white and her eyes to focus ahead, nervously. "Mother?"

"Sometimes," she allowed, almost through a stammer.

"What...what are some stupid things they say?"

Terra giggled. "Oh, you will have a lot of time to find that out yourself when you grow older." Emma grumbled to herself. It was always 'when you are older'. Was there anything she could learn now? Her mother caught the annoyance quickly. "Is something wrong?"

Honestly, she asked, "Is there anything I can know now?"

Terra's face grew even paler. "Well..." she thought for a moment. "You are pushing it now, sweety."

Emma furrowed her brows at her mother, even more confused. "What does 'pushing it' mean?"

"It means you are bringing up a subject I already answered you about, and it is getting to be troublesome." she answered just as honestly. "So, no more about it."

Emma stared, annoyed. How was she supposed to know what did or didn't connect to the age issue? Asking her to be able to tell ahead of time was unimaginably impossible and frustrating, especially since she didn't even know why she couldn't. So how could she learn to associate subjects to it?

"Heavens girl, you must keep up." her mother stopped just long enough to grab her arm. "Let's go, our day awaits us!" she said it in a sing song voice and a smile on her face, completely oblivious to her daughter's agitation.

The music hall was incredibly crowded. Emma could barely fit in through the people to follow her mother, who seemed to move about the throng with perfect ease. The air was lit with laughter, chat and music practice. Through the noise, she could just hear her mother's voice, chatting away. Emma struggled between two drummers and into a small pocket of openness, where her mother was standing, with the castle music master.

"Some of this," her mother said, gesturing about to the current sound. "Is a bit too lively for the tournaments. Is there something shorter, and bolder?"

"Yes, your grace, there is. We have the Soldier's Drum and The Knight's Rend, but I'm afraid they are not as short as you would like. The longest is thirty five seconds."

"Isn't there anything you can do Master Aejon?"

"I suppose I could alter one of the two, remove some pieces, but it might not sound as good as the originals."

"Do it, and try your best. I'm sure it will be good. Ah, Emma, there you are." she took Emma's hand and pulled her near, unaware her daughter just dug herself out of the crowd with great difficulty. "Now, dear, Master Aejon has the selections open for the dance squares and dinner. Which would you prefer for them?"

Emma's excitement grew as she was handed musical sheets from the Master. Her eyes widened at the first few pieces. They were Thamasan reels and jigs. She recognized a few of them, but the rest seemed quite strange in their notations. She flipped through them and found a few Figaro traditional dance sheets. She supposed this wasn't Thamasa, and Figaro music would fit best, but at the same time...

"Well?" her mother asked sweetly. "Which would you prefer for the dance square?"

Emma knew that if she picked the reels, everyone would know she had picked them, and her mother's plan would fall to pieces. And yet, she hadn't heard a Thamasan reel for months and she missed the sweet sound of it. But her brothers. Her annoying brothers. She sighed and handed the sheets back to the Master. "The Figaro folk taps will work..."

Terra looked at her squarely. "Are you sure?"

She said, "They work for the event."

Her mother's eyes narrowed at her. "I didn't ask which works better for the event. I asked you what you wanted."

"but mother, the boys—"

"I do not care what they will say or think. Now, you will pick what you truly want or so help me young lady, I will bend you over my knee."

Emma pinked. Half the people around them heard it, a threat a parent made to a misbehaving toddler or child. She skirted her eyes away. "The reels..."

Terra smiled and looked at the Master. "Fit in as many of those reels as you can, please."

Master Aejon bowed his head. "Of course. Thank you for the assistance, your grace," he bowed again to Emma. "Princess." and then he was off. When he was gone, her mother looked at her, with a shake of her head.

"Emma, really now...if I wanted the boys to pick the music, I would have gone to them."

"It is their day," she mumbled. "They should pick the music."

"If I left everything up to them, the event would look horrendous and the music would make people's ears bleed. Besides, your brothers do not typically dance. I doubt they would have cared one way or another if you picked the music. What they care about are the tournaments." Emma doubted that. She was going to regret making these decisions later, when her brothers found out. "And," her mother added. "I haven't danced a reel in quite some time. You know...your father is quite the dancer."

"He is?" she asked, amazed.

"He is a king, but before that, he was a prince. He was tutored in just about everything, including composing music and dancing to it. He knows ball room dances, the classical slow steps of Figaro, Thamasa reels and jigs, Kohlingen square dancing and so much more." her mother began to lead them back out of the hall as she talked. "When I first saw him dance, I couldn't breathe. It was the first time I had seen dancing, too, and it was so enchanting."

Emma thought on that. She had known her mother was an amnesiac, but she hadn't expected the amnesia to take such memories away as well. It made her realize how her own amnesia was a blessing. At least I didn't forget things like dancing, or music, or anything else. As horrible as it was, Emma felt a little closer to her mother. We have both lost memories. Maybe it is hereditary...

"Did father teach you to dance, mother?"

They were back in the halls now, moving fast towards the exists. Her mother smiled. "Yes. I had to learn, or so the Chancellor suggested I had to before the council did, as it was clear I was going to soon be queen to the country. I would have plenty of ball dances to go to, courts and the like. I had to learn to do that, and to act a 'proper lady' too. I had no idea whatsoever what 'Figaro manners' were until I was taught them."

Emma could not imagine her mother not knowing what utensils went where on a table or the like. Her mother seemed the prime example of mannerisms, just like Relm.

"It feels like it was so long ago," her mother said quietly, sadly, though in a way it seemed happy. As if recalling the memories made the world shine and not thinking of it made it dark again. "Well, no matter. I'm sure one day you will have a lord husband to dance with all of the time."

Emma sighed. She knew better than to ask anything of it now, less face her mother's fury. If I'm not allowed to speak of it why does everyone keep bringing it up?

They arrived half an hour later at the jousting area, and walked in on Benjamin arguing with captain Wren, who had been placed in charge of the jousting tournament while Suon and Hals handled the other events.

"I am trying to tell you, my prince, that the jousting lines must be anywhere from fifteen to twenty feet wide on each side of the fence, to allot enough space to turn the chocobo around and back against the post properly."

"Ten feet should work just fine," Benjamin said, exasperated.

"With all due respect, my prince, it won't," he said shortly, which caused the prince to pink.

Terra walked in to stop a shouting match then. "I can hear you two shouting from across the field." they turned to face her, and when Benjamin saw his sister, he narrowed his eyes at her. "What is the problem here, exactly?"

"Your son thinks we should close the joust around a ten foot wide area on each side, so we can use the remaining field for the other tournaments, but I am trying to tell him that a proper joust tournament allots at least fifteen on each side of the post, though even that is rare. It is normally about twenty feet."

"Benjamin, if Wren says we need twenty—"

"That isn't needed if we just give the knights and contestants more time to turn around. The jousting doesn't need to be immediate, as if we're on a field." her son said quickly.

"Speed and position is part of the scoring," Wren said. "It needs to be, to be proper. Otherwise, why even have a jousting tournament?"

"What has Hals or Suon suggested?" Terra asked.

"They agree with me, your grace," Wren said.

Terra let the quiet linger as she pondered the situation. Emma watched, knowing that her mother knew Wren was right, but was unable to publicly disagree with her son. If only to avoid hurting his feelings. She won't make the right call... she realized.

"I cannot make a decision." and then she smiled. "Let me deliberate with my support." she looked down at Emma. "What do you think, sweet pea? Should we listen to Wren's expertise, or Benjamin's desires?"

Wren smiled. "Perfect idea, my grace. What do you think, princess?"

Benjamin glared. "What importance is Emma right now? What could she possibly know about how Figaro traditions operate?"

"Benjamin," his mother warned, her tone hot with anger.

"What? It is true. She's just an outsider. She would be better off deciding what happens in a Thamasan festival, not a Figaro event."

Very much annoyed, and wanting to hurt her brother a little, she said, "Wren is the expert, let him decide. He's competed, and he's a captain who has j-jousted before. He would know better than Ben. Father would agree." I think. That made her brother's face turn red.

"It is settled then," Terra said, clapping her hands. "Wren, make it as you see fit."

"This is outrageous," her son growled. "Emma shouldn't even make these decisions! She's a girl, she has no importance here. This is an event for men, by men, not some prissy musical where everyone is a victor by participation."

"Music theory is harder than swinging a stupid sword!" Emma cried.

"Only an idiot would think that."

"Enough!" Terra snapped, and the two stopped immediately, though they were glaring so fiercely at each other that it was clear they were still waging their war mentally. "Benjamin, your sister is in charge of decision making with me. As by the order of your mother and your father. If you hate the decision she made here, you best not further upset her, because I promise you she will be making more decisions the rest of the day." he pinked at that. "Now apologize to your sister or the next place we go is the swordsmanship square and then the Antlion racing stage."

"Sorry," he spat, crossing his arms.

"Good. Now, Emma, let us go. We have a few more things to do today." it was clear their mother was very annoyed with the scene. She took Emma by the arm and charged away, her steps hard and swift. When they were clear of the area, she let out a long sigh. "Sometimes I wonder why you all fight so much." I didn't start anything, she thought. "And your brothers..." she shook her head. "I have no idea why they are always trying to antagonize you into something. Perhaps they know you are my sweet little baby." she pulled Emma closer with her arm and hugged her to her side.

Emma blushed. That was definitely it! I didn't ask them to treat me like a child... "Mother...where are we going next?"

"Nowhere, you are done for the day, so you will return to your room." she said, smiling. "I just told your brother what would make him listen, is all." and, completely surprised by that, Emma started to laugh. Her mother looked her quickly as she walked, a little concerned. "What's so funny?"

Emma smiled. "You tricked Benjaz...you tricked Ben." she said, happily.

Terra laughed. "Oh...well I suppose I did, didn't I?"

As they approached her room, Emma quietly wished all the other days working would be like this one, where she learned more about her mother and received help against her brothers' antics and teasing.

••••••••••••

The second day started off terrible for Emma. She woke sore and tired. Her arms felt as if they had been trampled on by a dozen different people, and her legs felt so weak she couldn't stand on them. What's worse was the pain in her neck. Holding it up for more than a minute made it feel as if she had twisted it wrong. The muscles protested if she looked even a little to the left or right, and slowly burned down her spine. She found herself lying back down just to relieve some of the pain. It was as if her neck could no longer support her head, and it hurt oh so terribly.

By the time that she was done breaking her fast with her family, the pain was back and she had to hide her discomfort, as to avoid a stern talk about faking illness to get out of her work. She knew her father believed her little enough as it was. So she reached up to rub at her neck and shoulders every son often, wishing for the flat comforts of her bed.

By afternoon, it was unbearable. She couldn't take it any longer. In the middle of painting a second of wooden walls with her mother and aunt, she felt tears in her eyes. Her mother a moment later sat aside her tools to discern the situation.

"Emma, sweat pea, what is wrong?" she laid a hand across her forehead, worried. "Are you ill?"

"It is my neck, mother," she mumbled, unsure. Her aunt stopped to listen as well. "It...it's been hurting."

"Since when?"

"This morning," she answered quietly, and her mother sighed.

"You mustn't keep things like this from me, Emma," she said, taking the brush out of her daughter's hand to pass it over to Karrin. "Come, we will set you down in the shade and I'll give you willowbark tea for the pain. You probably just slept on it wrong."

Emma thought that was probably it, but it didn't mean tea was going to take the pain away. At least, that's what she thought. When she was sat down in the cool shade of a sand willow and was handed a warm mug of tea, she found the pain vanishing. Until the comfort of it drew her eyes closed and whisked her away.

When she woke again, she was lying on the soft, plush cushions of a patio bench beneath an awning of blue. There was a table topped with various sweet teas, chilled with delicious looking ice cubes, and dozens of different dry cookies. There were even fruits and vegetables. She was utterly confused, but she gathered that maybe her uncle took her to some cover at the request of her mother. Her neck was stiff and painful, but not as much as before. Thankful she leaned back into the cushions with a sigh of relief.

"Finally," a voice called and she sat up quickly to stare into the face of her oldest brother. "You slept through most of the work hours. How convenient."

"I..." whatever protest she was going to give, she decided wasn't worth it. Not right now. "Is...is mother nearby?"

"No. She was helping with the schedule for tomorrow earlier, but left." he reached down to take a pear and threw it at her. "Mother said to hydrate and eat, and then find her at father's study."

And then her brother walked away, before Emma could ask any further questions. She rolled the pear around in her hands absentmindedly as she wondered what her mother could want from her to need her in the study. I'm in trouble...I just know it.

When she was finished eating and certain she wasn't pale enough to shock her parents into hysterics, she made her way back into the castle and to her father's study. She knocked three times on the oak doors and waited nervously for the answer.

"Come in."

She froze. Her father. Slowly she opened the door and stepped inside. As usual, her father's study was dark and smelled heavily of candle and smoke. She sneezed a few times as she entered the room. Her mother was sitting in a chair across from her father, sipping at a little glass of tea. Her father was at the table, looking through papers on his desk.

Without taking his eyes off the papers, he asked, "How are you, m'dear?"

"I am f-fine, father," she looked at her mother, who simply smiled back. "Am...am I in t-trouble?"

"No, of course not, well, not any further of course than your previous trouble." he said, now moving his eyes to her. She looked down. "Your mother told me you have been working hard." Emma wasn't sure what to say to that, so she said nothing. "That is great news. It seems like you are finally starting to understand the roles of a girl nearing adulthood, and of course, proper respect."

"Edgar..." her mother warned.

"Ah, right, well," he cleared his throat. "I called you here to let you know there are some slight shifts in your punishment. While you work on the race, you will not need your escort. Your mother promised me you have learned your lesson and won't run off again, but that escort shall continue once the work has been finished, until we decide when your punishment ends. Is that clear?" she nodded. "In exchange though, you are to prepare yourself for the work days thoroughly. Your mother will tend to that, to be sure it is done and done right, and you mustn't argue with her about it at all."

"Yes, father."

"Good. Oh, and every work day you will have two hours of break time."

"And, Edgar?" her mother pushed, brows raising. Edgar passed her a quick look before he grumbled.

"And you can spend that time as you see fit, so long as it is within castle walls. As it is clear you need the breaks for health reasons but also as a small...and I mean small...reward for your good behavior."

Two hours? All to herself, even while she was being punished? Emma smiled and then hurried over to hug her father. "Thank you father, thank you."

He laughed and patted her back. "Do not make me regret being so lax, dear." he hugged her before he released her. "Now, go clean up and get some rest. Sup will be done in a few hours." she nodded and hurried out of the room, excited and happy.

••••••••••••

The third day was quieter than the last two, and there was barely work to be done before a shower passed over the area. Emma had been outside, watching her brothers lift a wall with a few soldiers that would make the first seats, when the rain started to beat down upon them. Emma squealed so loudly that Jakle nearly had a heart attack before he rushed over to see her sputtering under the icy cold downpour.

When he saw that she was alright, he started to laugh. "It is only rain, princess." her hair was sticking to her face and she was trembling from the chilly coldness of it. The rain poured down his armor without soaking him, though his helmet provided poor protection from it. "Come with me and we will get you back into the castle." she followed him back shivering the entire way.

The halls were always a comfortable temperate, though having just been cooled to her bone, it felt incredibly warm. She waited at the castle doors, dripping, until Jakle returned with her mother. The moment Terra saw her, she started to giggle. "Look at you." if Emma could have, she would have seen that she looked rather comical with the way her hair framed her startled, pale face. "Well, let's get you into something warm. The storm won't pass for some time, anyways."

Emma held onto her mother's arm as she was walked back to her room, so that she wouldn't slip. When they were inside her room, her mother left her standing by the dresser to go get a towel and some dry clothes. Emma sighed happily into the warmth of the towel, too comforted by it to notice that her mother brought out the annoying chapel attire. Complete with the bonnet. At least, she didn't noticed until her mother laid them out on the bed.

"Oh mother, why do I have to wear that?"

"Because I think you look so cute in it." she said, smiling, still holding the bonnet.

"It is itchy, and I can't move in it." and it is annoying.

"Oh, sometimes I wonder why you can't let me dress you," her mother said through a pout. "Fine, dress in whatever you desire. The day is yours, anyway." she walked over and kissed her daughter's cheeks. "And keep up the good work. I think you are convincing your father to relent." she hugged her once and then left.

No. Emma knew her father would never relent. Lessen her burdens, sure, but never take back the punishment. She walked over to put the chapel clothing back into her chest and find something better. She settled on a loose fitting sundress the color of the night's sky. There were little lion prints in the dress made of satin, that caught the light and shone like liquid silver.

It was a gift from her father, when she first arrived at Figaro and was guided to her room. The whole room had been set up with gifts, with tags on them that told who they came from. Her father got her many different things, like dresses and instruments and books (historical, mostly) and even furniture. Her mother had delivered on the more enjoyable things, like adventure books, art supplies and collectibles.

It was among her favorite pieces to wear, even if she couldn't ever look beautiful in it, it made her feel beautiful.

When she was done, she went over her hair with a towel again and then brushed it until it shone, and then she hurried out into the halls. Jakle was waiting for her as expected and followed behind her closely. Whenever she peaked back at him, he didn't look annoyed, which many others would have been. It made his presence a little less troublesome.

Emma decided the screened patio was the best place to relax without bumping into anyone who might cause trouble, or to at least avoid her father, who might use whatever she did to harshen her punishment or put her to some kind of work. The air was a little cool, but it wasn't unbearable. And the sound of the rain hitting the stone was enchanting.

She fell into a peaceful rest with thoughts of a great sea voyage, where she was one of the famous, heroic sailors searching for a new land to call their own.

••••••••••••

After the third day, the real preparation started. Hordes of people arrived from all over to help set up the areas and decorate them. Wagons were wheeled in carrying supplies and building materials, and even more people looking to join the race or celebration.

It was then that the real work started for Emma. And as the days grew closer toward the actual event, slowly people began to notice just how exhausted Emma was. It was physical activity the girl was not accustomed to. And yet, despite her sore muscles and headaches, she worked hard, trying her best to look stronger than she was. She hoped the effort would impress the gods and earn their favor, but mostly she hoped to show her parents—and even her brothers and peers—that she could be worth something to them.

And so she was thankful that the first few times she feinted from exhaustion, it was out of sight, and whenever she woke she would go right back into her work. Soon enough though, it happened publicly. She had been helping push about a rather large and awkward table with Jacen, the Cole son, when they stopped to check if it was in the right spot. One moment she was standing, listening to the boy as he mumbled about the table being off center, and then the next she was waking to the sight of her mother and Celes hovering over her, in a shaded area.

Emma was very confused, and a little frightened. The other feint spells had been brief, or so she thought, and she had woken where she was last standing, with vague memories of where she had been and what she had been doing, but this time... she couldn't recall it. When she sat up, her feet felt numb and her arms tingled fiercely, as if she had slept on them. Worst yet was that she had a bit of a difficulty taking in deep breaths. Instead, her breathing hitched and a sharp pain would pierce under her breasts and against her ribs.

She tried to think back, but her mind drew empty, and ached. She let her tears, brought on by the pain, fall down her cheeks. Her mother gasped and dug through blouse's pocket for a cloth. Celes helped pour some cool water on it and then her mother pressed it against her forehead, eyes wide with worry. "Emma, my sweet girl, it is okay now. You will be fine."

She blinked at them, trying to contain her tears. "What...what happened?"

"You fainted," Celes said slowly, searching the girl's face for any sign that she could not go on or need direct and immediate medical attention. "Did you hit your head?"

Emma lifted a hand to her head, wondering if she had, but found that it was fine. She shook her head. "No...I mean...I don't r-r-remember hitting my head. I...I don't r-r-remember anything."

Terra gently took her face and began a careful examination. Terra checked her eyes, her ears, her mouth, her nose and the back of her head, but found nothing. At least, she didn't find any physical indications of injury. "Do you feel any pain?"

Emma hesitantly touched her head with a frown. "My head hurts."

"Then you can't go on," her mother said sternly, standing. "You needn't worry. I want you to relax as long as you need to, and gods be good Emma, that means you must keep yourself hydrated constantly, do you hear me? And if you feel better, do whatever it is you want."

"but father will—"

"If your father complains, Celes and I will put him in his place."

Unsure, Emma tried to think of a way out of it, but how in the world could she think of a way to get into work and not out of it? Faking to be injured or ill would just help the case of not working. "but mother, I want—"

"It has been decided," she said, smiling, though that smile said more. Emma was not to push the matter. "Now, be a dear and do as your mother says." she brushed a hand over Emma's head, shuffling the hair, before she walked away with Celes. Emma fixed her hair quickly, annoyed, and then was alone.

Since that day (of which her father was promptly shut down the second he tried to complain) her mother was sure to watch her carefully and make her rest every fifteen minutes in the shade and hydrate herself almost constantly, which to Emma's embarrassment meant she had to take breaks to the washroom more than she cared to.

When she wasn't moving things or delivering things, she was mixing paints and dyes with her mother and her aunt for the men and boys to use. She had created the gallon of paint Cambyses and Benjamin would use to detail their armor with the sigil of Figaro's Royal family and, after that, helped her mother sew together two tourney flags for Ben and Camb to use in their tournaments, practice and racing. It resulted in many pricks and pokes, that led to many little wraps around her fingers.

In between the work hours of the days Terra would disappear into her room doing 'secret' business. Whenever Emma attempted to offer her help her mother shooed her away and locked the door. Emma decided it was just not something she was welcomed to know or help with, and went about her mandatory work.

One time leaving the hall, just after asking her mother if she needed help again, was probably the strangest thing she had experienced when it came to her brothers. She was carrying a box of decorations from the storage out to the work area and took a turn down the long hall to the southern garden when she stumbled into the scene of her brother and Cadence kissing in the shadows.

She was so shocked, and so very nervous, that she stood there for a few seconds before it clicked in her mind to leave and then she tried to turn away. The edge of her box tipped over a vase of flowers, sending it to the floor in a crash. It alerted her brother and Cadence, and then she was prey.

"Emma?!" Her brother! She tried to hurry away but he suddenly appeared in front of her, blue eyes burning with rage. "Spying on us, are you?"

"N-n-n-no, I was just—"

"Oh Camb, leave her be," Cadence said from where he left her. There was a tinge of amusement in her voice, though Emma couldn't rightly say as to whom it was directed at.

Her brother looked over her shoulders back at Cadence. "Relm should have taught the little weirdo that spying is wrong."

"Cambyses!" Cadence breathed, angry.

"I wasn't spying, I p-promise," she said, feeling her heart tighten. "I w-w-w-was heading to the g-g-garden, I s-s-swear it."

Cambyses stood in such a way it was even easy for her to know he didn't believe her, but oh, she was telling the truth. As if she wanted to see her brother slobbering all over Cadence. The whole discussion of it had brought a pink shade to her cheeks. "I don't believe you," he finally said, staring her down.

"I'm not lying! N-n-now move!"

He laughed. "Now I definitely don't believe you. Just wait until I tell mother and father you were spying on me."

"Cambyses, that is enough!" Cadence snapped. She came over to them and laid a hand on Emma's shoulders. It only made her more nervous. "If you can't behave yourself, then I shall not be party to your behavior. And neither will your little sister." she had stressed that word, little, and then placed her hand on Emma's back, between her shoulders, to guide her away.

Her brother was spinning in spot, confused and angry. "What? Cadence! Come back here!" but it was too late, they were heading down the halls together. Emma's heart fluttered. Oh, her brother would be furious!

When they were far enough away, Cadence sighed. "Do not mind your brother too much, Emma. They are irritable things." she looked up at the woman.

"Men?" she asked, unsure of the woman's meaning. It caused Cadence to burst into giggles.

"That is not what I meant, but I probably should have," she said through a breath that came from the end of a giggle. "I was meaning brothers. They love to dig under your skin sometimes, especially if it is front of a girl they like."

Emma thought it over. "Is that why he's always picking on me? To impress you?" that made a solemn frown appear on the woman's face. "Lady Cole?"

"No, Emma, that's not why your brothers do what they do...your older brother just acts stupid around me, sometimes. And his stupidity is often related to teasing you."

She blinked. "Oh..."

Cadence sighed. "I'm afraid only your brothers could answer that question."

For a long time Emma let the silence go, her mind whirling with so many questions and thoughts that she could feel them tearing through her the longer she ignored them. Why were people so keen on presenting more questions, or situations to questions, than to answer them? Did they not feel the frustration and anxiety of not knowing, or of wondering? Or did they not care?

She started to fidget. She was not like that. She had to know. Why did she have to marry to be an adult? Why did she have to marry? Why couldn't she know how or when she could have a family of her own? Why did her parents promise to explain things and never actually do? Why did her brothers pick on her? To impress someone, just to tease her or because they didn't like her? Or something else entirely? And why did some people kiss? Why did her parents? Or Relm and Gau? Or her brother with Cadence? Whenever she thought about it, her mind would fizzle and she'd get very nervous. And frustrated. Especially if she started to think about it for Luke. And that only further confused her.

She sighed heavily, which caught the woman's attention. "What's wrong Emma? You're fidgeting all over." and it was true, she couldn't control her hands or the slow shake in her head. "Emma?"

And then, feeling as if it were all too much, she blurted out, "Why do you kiss my brother?" and Cadence paused, staring at the princess with wide, shocked eyes and then, a second later, she was laughing. "Is that funny?" she asked, unsure.

"A little," Cadence admitted with a pretty smile. "I kiss your brother because I like him."

"Why do you have to kiss him because you like him?"

"I don't have to kiss him," she said. "I want to. I like to."

Emma let that silence go for a second, and then asked, "but why?"

"That is a difficult question to answer, Emma," she said, with a small shrug of her shoulders. "It is different for everyone, I'm sure, but for most people they want to do it because they like the feeling of doing it, especially if it is with someone they like."

Emma blinked. "So people kiss when they don't like each other too?"

And then Cadence's cheeks reddened and she looked at Emma quickly. "You know...this is a conversation best had with your mother, and far later in your life."

"Why?"

"Heavens, girl," she breathed, very clearly nervous. "You are only thirteen. It is not appropriate to discuss this with you. You have to be an adult."

Emma oh'd. So it was another topic for adults. She didn't think just asking why people kissed, or why they liked it, could possibly be too adult for her, but she knew asking and asking wasn't going to get her an answer. It never did. Her parents, her guardians and even her brothers had proved that time and time again.

"When I'm an adult, can you tell me?" she asked, watching Cadence's eyes as they fluttered about the hall, as if Emma was the last thing she wanted to look at. "Lady Cole?"

Finally, Cadence smiled and laid a hand on Emma's shoulder. "When you are an adult, the discussion will be had. I promise." and then they arrived at the end of the hall, by the entrance to the work area. "For now though, you must behave and act your age. Do not pester people with matters you are not fit to hear. If you are patient, you will be rewarded with answers in due time. Do you think you can do that? At least until the race is over?"

Emma smiled. "Okay."

"Good," she knelt down to kiss Emm'a head. "You go run along. I'm sure your mother or father have been searching for you somewhere among this throng."

••••••••••••

Two days after she had accidentally walked in on her brother and Cadence kissing, Emma's mind had moved off from the clutter of the questions she had fuming in her. In a strange way, Cadence's words had left a little relief. Now her attention was primarily on the tasks her parents were pushing on her, and getting them done quickly and efficiently to hopefully convince them she learned her lesson.

At the moment she was hurrying out into the garden, carrying a small box of figurines made of wood that Locke had made. She sat them on the table beside Cadence and Maria. They were busy sewing together a large banner for the main event. Emma tippy-toed to see their progress. It was perfect! Even the writing seemed printed. She smiled. "That looks great Lady Cole and Lady Gabbianni."

The two smiled at her. "Why thank you Emma," Celes said, still focused on her task.

Maria reached out to pinch her cheek gently. "Aren't you a sweet girl?" the girl pulled away, irritated. "Oh, Emma, your brother came by saying that your mother is looking for you."

"Which brother?" she asked, getting a strange look from them. She turned her gaze away, embarrassed. They didn't need to know that her brothers constantly played tricks on her concerning parental summons. "Did—did he mention where?"

Maria tried to recall, but it was Celes who answered, "By the tables in the garden."

Emma ran off, ducking under planks of wood men were moving to finish the platforms. A string of children rushed by in front of her, shouting and laughing as they followed another kid streaming a long, orange ribbon behind him. Emma smiled, stopped and watched, contemplating joining them, before she sighed and went on her way again.

When she reached the garden, where the celebrational dinner would take place, she found—to no surprise—that the place was vacant. She furrowed her brows and walked to the end of the table, to see if her brothers were hiding behind the garden pillars, but there wasn't a single soul. She sighed.

"This isn't funny Camb and Ben! I was w-w-working!" silence was her answer. She puffed angrily. "I'll get in trouble!" if they were there, they obviously did not care for that. She grumbled under her breath and turned to head out the way she came when suddenly she collided right into her father's chest. She stumbled back, grabbing at the air. If it hadn't been for her father's quick reflexes, she would have landed on her back. He straightened her to her feet.

"Good Heavens girl," he said sternly, holding her still, as if he expected her to collapsed if he let go. "Why are you always in a hurry?" She shooed his hands away, angrily and that made him ah. "Are you still upset that we punished you, Emma?" there was no tone to indicate he was speaking to her with his normal tone. This was her king more than her father. She ducked her eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I asked you a question."

Keeping her eyes down, she said, "No father..."

"Why aren't you helping with the decorations?"

"I...I was...I just..."

"Please do not lie to me Emma," he said, though it sounded like a warning.

"I was!" she snapped, stomping a dress shoe into the stone below. "Camb and Ben said that mother was—"

"Do not blame your brothers for being caught skipping out on your punishment."

"That's not—not what I'm doing! I was—"

"Enough," he lifted a hand to silence her and shook his head. "I just don't understand what has gotten into you lately Emma. I thought..." he hesitated and then sighed. "Today isn't the day to discuss this. I am looking for your mother...have you seen her?"

Emma gaped at her father. "That's what I came here for!" she shouted. "Camb and Ben said mother wanted me here!"

"Now, what did—"

"Oh, just forget it!" she shoved by him and hurried away before he could chide her.

••••••••••••

"Edgar?" Edgar glanced over his shoulder to see his wife walking out of the garden with a collection of freshly cut flowers. She looked around as he faced her. "Did I hear Emma just now?"

"Aye, you did," he admitted through a shake of his head. "She was trying to hide from her chores and blamed her brothers for it."

"What?" she sat the wicker basket down on the table. "Oh Edgar, I asked Cambyses to get her. She wasn't trying to avoid her chores."

He pinked. His daughter had been telling the truth and he had... He cleared his throat. "I see..."

"Did you yell at her?" she asked, brows furrowing. She was going to be very crossed if he said that he did, so he shook his head. "You better not have Edgar. If I find out that you did...well, I should think you would regret lying to me!"

"Now...Terra, listen, I had reason to suspect that she was lying to me."

"You had no reason to this time," she said quickly, picking the basket back up. "You really need to learn to be more trusting with her."

"Terra, she lied to us. She lies to us all the time. How am I to give her my trust when she tramples over it?"

She shook her head. "Sometimes I worry about you Edgar for how you punish her differently than you do the boys. In fact, sometimes...you treat them boys different too."

"What?" he asked, frowning. "What are you saying? How do I treat the boys differently?"

"Must it be said, dear?" she looked him square in the eyes. It was clear he was rather confused, and astonished, by the accusation. "You place an impossible standard on her Edgar, and you melt down every time she breaks it or doesn't meet it the way you envisioned. You are pushing her too hard, in ways you never pushed the boys."

"Good Heavens, this is ridiculous Terra, I would never—"

"Yes you do," she cut in softly, eyes holding his, to let him know she was serious and that she was not trying to hurt him. "When Cambyses stole a drink when he was Emma's age, you laughed it off." he looked away. "When Benjamin snuck out when he was sixteen to meet a girl, you told him there was no need to sneak about."

"Terra—"

"The boys are allowed Free days when she is not," she added. "And they are allowed to break them if something comes up you feel is important to them, but you won't do the same for Emma."

"That isn't fair," he said. "You know the two are not comparable. The boys are different. They require different parenting, even when they were younger."

"Why?"

"Because they are boys, and right now, far older than Emma." he answered a bit hotly. "You can't expect me to place the same standards that I do on my sons for our daughter."

"What if that's what she wants?"

"It isn't." rather he wasn't, but he didn't care.

"How do you know that? Did you ask her?"

"No," he admitted. "Regardless, even if she did, it isn't what I want for her."

Terra was silent for a moment, giving Edgar a moment to understand how that sounded. He knew the implications behind his words would haunt him for a long time now. "So how do you think you do not place a higher standard on her? How can you say you do not treat them differently now?"

"I treat them differently where I must," he clarified hotly. "Beyond that I treat them the same. I love them all the same."

"This isn't a question about love Edgar, it is about—"

"I don't think it needs to be said why I must be harder on her," he intercepted before he turned and walked away, leaving his wife alone.

How could Terra understand his decisions? She would be happy if her daughter was able to run around the kingdom doing whatever she pleases, dangerous or not, simply because it would be what her daughter wanted. She would let her drop her studies! She would let her drop talents! She would let her eat and drink whatever she wanted! She would let her precious daughter do whatever crossed her mind, just to see a smile.

Edgar shook his head, trying to dispel himself of the horrid thoughts that came to him, as he turned around a few stacked boxes of seed and chocobo feed. If only she knew the fears in my heart, he thought, walking with his head down, watching stone turn to grass. If she knew the terrors I faced every day I looked at our daughter, she would understand. He sighed. How did Locke and his brother manage raising a daughter? How could they get over that terror in their hearts to let her flourish yet keep a stern hand to guide her? How did they not drown under the responsibility? From the failures or hardships? Edgar knew just one mishap could mean terrible consequences for his daughter. If I am not careful, he thought sadly. I could ruin everything, especially for her.

He bumped into a young man hauling away a box full of spare armor and apologized quickly before he stepped around him and hurried into the wide section of the area left bare for dancing or other activities that required the space. He heard laughter and shouting instantly and paused to search out the source. He smiled when he caught sight of the children chasing around a ball.

That kind of sight was what made being king so incredible. The peace and happiness of his people. To give such freedom and peace, especially to children after not knowing it himself, meant everything to him. As they stopped to fight over the ball with swift kicks, he caught a glimpse of green in his peripheral vision. He turned his neck just enough to see and saw that it was his daughter.

She was watching the kids with a bright expression across her face, as if she wished to run out and join them, even if they were some years younger than her. He watched closely, stepping back behind a few crates to see what happened. She sat down her box on a table with the rest of the decorations, where Maria and Celes currently worked, and looked around the area quickly.

Edgar leaned out of the view further, still watching, even as she found an extra ball and hurried out of sight with it. Curiously, Edgar followed, keeping behind the beautiful screens made of trees and bushes. His height allowed him to peer through clearings of the bushes and trees she couldn't noticed, so he was hidden the entire trip to an open section of the garden where grass rushed far into the distance to a pond.

Emma sat the ball down, looked around once more worriedly, and then with a small smile she kicked the ball forward. It rolled several feet from the weak force, and then she walked toward it, still uncertain. She looked around again and then kicked the ball harder. It flew some feet through the air and bounced a few more across the grass towards the pond. Her smile was bright and wide now, and she ran after it, giving it small kicks so she could follow it and play.

Edgar laughed quietly to himself as she played. It took only a few seconds for him to register the fact that she did not ask the kids if she could join, that she went off to play by herself, but when it did his heart sank and memories of Thamasa came back to him. His daughter had struggled to make friends throughout her life, and when she finally found what could be described as 'sorta friends', she went halfway across the world. And that was well beyond the years she would have been playing like the kids he saw earlier.

A loud 'ouch!' brought him from his thoughts and back to the scene. To his astonishment, several kids around her age were standing in front of her. There was a second ball near Emma now, to the side, and Edgar knew it had been kicked at her. He contained his rage and stayed hidden, to see what would happen. His daughter was standing rather awkwardly with her eyes downcast and her fingers laced through each other. He crept closer, wishing to know what was being said.

When he peered closer he thought he recognized them. They were from Sunset academy! He knew that for sure, but what were their names?

One of the boys, out of the three, snickered at her. "Mind if we join your little game?"

She shook her head. "No, Kysle, I...I don't mind."

"Good," he said, walking forward. "I'll split the teams up. Hmm...it will be us against you. If we get the ball to the pond, we win."

She looked at them. "That's five against one though..."

"So you can count, good for you." he reached down to take the ball.

"It...it isn't fair." she mumbled.

One of the girls snickered. "Don't be such a child. Besides, we only need one goalie, or have you forgotten there is only one pond?" Emma glanced back at the pond with a sigh of defeat before walking over to it. When she was standing several feet in front of it, the boy dropped the ball at his feet and smiled.

Edgar was seething. Why wasn't his daughter declining? Why didn't she just walk away?

"Ready?"

"I'm r—" he kicked the ball as hard as he could. It flew across the sky, twirling and twirling. Emma backed up and, surprising them all, caught it in her hands. She stared at the ball in confusion. She looked up, smiling, when she saw that each of them had a ball in their hands. "Wait—" before Edgar could react, the kids started to pelt her with them. The first two hit her chest, but the rest knocked the ball in her hands free and then tossed her to her back. The kids' laughter didn't cease until they repeated their betrayal a few more times and started to leave.

Edgar's fury drove him out of the bushes, but not toward his daughter who was sniffling pathetically to herself. He went back the way he came, meaning to cut them off as soon as they appeared. He caught them as they were gloating over their trick. They went pale immediately. After all, everyone could recognize the king. It was said he was the 'Lion of the Desert'. It was the eyes, some had said, that you could never forget. A shade of blue no one but those with Figaro blood carried.

"Your Majesty!" they all howled at once, through different tones of fear and surprise.

"You are all from the Sunset Academy, are you not?" they nodded, too afraid to use their voices. Edgar tightened his hands into fists at his side. "Then tell me...do you always treat my daughter like that or is today special?" their silence angered him immensely. "Answer me!" he shouted, earning strange looks from some of the workers.

"We...we were only p-playing with her, your majesty! We swear it!"

"Playing, was it?" Never had Edgar wanted to strike a child before so much, and he knew it was a dangerous thought. Even should these kids be a stain, he could not, would never. He contained the boiling anger in his heart and gestured away. "Get out of my sight and should I ever see you near my daughter again, you will regret it." when they faltered, frightened, he snarled. "I said go!" they scattered at once, almost in different directions had it not been for the limited exits to the area.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He decided then that after the race, it would happen, that there was no more room for discussion. He would first do something special for his daughter though, and then discuss this issue she was having with Terra.

He never wanted to see that happen to his daughter again.

Determined, he went out to find his sons. Any one of them would do for his goal. In a few minutes he bumped into Cambyses talking with Cadence over ribbons they were tying around baskets.

"Cambyses, son, we need to talk." Edgar stopped at their right. They put their things down immediately.

"Couldn't it wait father? I'm helping Cadence."

Edgar glanced at the task they were at and then shook his head, annoyed that his son considered it more important. "I am sure Cadence wouldn't mind you forgoing your current task to help your sister."

Cadence frowned and sat aside her tools. "Of course I wouldn't. What's wrong?"

"I'm sure it could wait father. Did she scrap her knee? See a ghost? Mother should kiss her wounds or tend to her fears, not I." he went back to the task, very much aware that both his father and lady were staring at him with disapproval.

"I saw a group from the academy bullying her in the gardens." he said sternly, causing them both to look at him in surprise.

"They would do something so stupid here, of all places?" the prince asked, astonished.

"So you knew about this?" he asked, frowning. "Why didn't you say anything to us?"

He shrugged and looked back at their materials. "Everyone gets a little bullied father, it isn't a big deal. I make sure to protect her while we're in study days. Just ask Benjamin or Emma, if you wish to confront her about it. Why does this need my help?"

"I want you to make sure those runts never hurt her again," he answered. "If I even suspect she was bullied, I will—"

"You will what father?" he pressed, facing him. "Have children and teenagers thrown into a cell?"

"Cambyses," Cadence whispered, trying to get him to back down, to understand. "Your father is just worried, and for reason."

"It is Emma's decision not to say anything," he clarified. "And you," he looked at his father. "Should respect it, as I have. When she feels ready to tell you and mother, she will tell you. This is no different than what happened in Thamasa and I should hope that you and mother would be wise enough to listen to me this time." he took Cadence's hand and stole her away.

Edgar snorted and went the other way. If his son would not help him, then he would take care of everything himself after the race.

••••••••••••

When the others left her be, she sat up and rubbed away her tears with her knuckles. She should have expected nothing else from them, and yet she had hoped, foolishly, that they had only meant to befriend her. She looked at the balls around around her and punched one away. It wasn't fair! She got to her feet and stormed away, leaving the toys out and her anger open. She couldn't wait for the day that she didn't have to be around people she didn't want to be, even if it meant that day she had to be married. She would gladly suffer that fate than the one she was facing now of utter isolation, tears and pain. Maybe even her lord husband would torment her tormentors as payback!

When she arrived back at the area where Celes and Maria were working she found that they were nearly done. She tried to sneak by them so that they did not notice the dirt on her clothes, but Celes' hawk eyes caught her.

"Emma, what happened? Did you fall?"

"Yes," she answered quickly, looking away from her icy blue eyes when they held hers, searching for the truth. She shook her head.

"Alright then...just be careful from now on. Oh!" she sat down her tools. "Your mother is still looking for you, you know. I thought you went to see her earlier?"

"I did but..." she hesitated and then asked, "Where is she?"

"I am right here young lady."

Emma twirled around on her heels quickly, flesh as pale as milk. "Mother, I—"

"I know," she said softly. "I bumped into your father right after you left. I just missed you." Emma exhaled in gratitude. Her mother believed her. She didn't have to put up a fight. "I needed you to check if you finished stocking the baskets with candles and whistlers at the other side of the tourney area."

"Well, I..."

"You haven't finished?"

"Well, I mean I—I was trying to when..." she hesitated. She had put her basket down to play and then Kysle and his friends appeared.

Terra smiled and leaned over to kiss her daughter's forehead. "That is alright dear. I think you have done enough today. You can go back to the castle if you wish, or stay in the shade with the elderly women if that's what you would prefer. I will handle the baskets."

She stared at her mother in disbelief. Was she really being let off her chores? Her punishment? Even though she wasn't ill, or hurt? She smiled, hugged her mother tightly and said, "Thank you mother!" and then she hurried away towards the castle. She was so exhausted that she would just sleep! Oh, but first she had to get cleaned and maybe find something to eat with her uncle. Maybe something made of entirely meat, if she were lucky!

To her delight her uncle was indeed in the kitchen, digging through the food while most of the staff was busy outside or cooking more in the back. Emma giggled and hurried over to him and the plates. "Uncle, may I have a piece?"

He looked around, suspiciously, and then grinned. "Of course. Don't tell your parents, though." when has she ever? She smiled when he handed her a juicy rib. "And be careful eating that. If I have to stop you from choking, there isn't anyway in hell I would get away with it without telling your parents."

"I'll be careful," she mumbled over the juicy meat. When she was through she discarded the bone and tippy-toed to reach the basin of water to destroy the evidence. Her uncle was still eating the ribs though and since she knew better than to ask for another, she settled on taking a piece of bread and hurrying to her room. As she left the kitchen, she heard the chefs yelling at her uncle.

Upstairs, once she closed her door, she tore out of her dirty clothes and went to the basin. The water ran hot, thankfully. She filled it to the brim and then snuggled into the warmth. Nearly an hour went by before she found herself pleased enough to retire, so she dried herself thoroughly and went to her room to find suitable clothes for the remainder of the day. As she pulled her tunic shirt on, her door opened and her mother came in.

Emma gasped and pulled the shirt down further than it could go. "Mother! I'm dressing!"

Terra giggled. "I dressed you a thousand times over when you were younger and I am your mother. Besides dear, you have that on backwards." Emma looked down and gasped. She did! "I only interrupted you to ask if you are alright, dear. Celes said you fell?"

Emma blushed. She had no doubt Celes suspected the truth and sent her mother after her to wiggle it out. She nodded. "Yes mother, but I'm fine, I promise."

Terra hesitated but then smiled. "Alright then, I will leave you to rest. Sweet dreams, my dear girl." she kissed her cheeks and then quietly left the room. Emma sighed, took her shirt off and then redid it. She just wished people would just mind their own business sometimes, Lady Cole included. She collapsed into her bed with a sigh. One day things would be different, she was sure of it.

She closed her eyes and listened to the reassurance of that change from the voice in her head.

••••••••••••

Alexander had come to a promise with his parents not to start anything with any prideful Figaro boys while the country prepared for the Race. It was harder than he expected keeping the promise every day he stepped outside of their homestead. The older men deprived of their chance so many years ago to compete were the worst. Their pride was a poisonous, disgusting thing, though some part of him understood them—even if he still disagreed. They had been raised to "need" to compete to feel like a man and to be denied that...well, it would be tough for anyone, he supposed. He just wished they would grow some common sense and come to the conclusion that it was not needed and their behavior was hideous.

His brothers loved the race though, even if they weren't competing in the tradition to become men. The women of Figaro, old and young alike, found it incredibly attractive to watch. And his brothers soaked it up. They registered for every event open to outsiders and the girls were on their arms instantly. If it wasn't for the fact that they learned through his behavior, he would be annoyed enough to teach them a lesson, but in truth? He was proud. So long as they didn't hurt the women or abuse them. That was not what he taught them and not how he, himself, treated women.

Though in a way they were 'better' at the game of hearts than he was. They were slick little devils. He had seen them win the hearts of stone cold girls in their academy back in Maranda, away from their wealthy, lordly courts and lovers just by treating them like they were princess themselves. And even stranger, it had usually impacted the women in a positive way too.

Loreto's first love was a chubby girl of beautiful red hair, round green eyes and heavily freckled. She had been picked on from as long as she could remember for her looks and her weight, told she was useless and ugly and that no one would ever like her. They were wrong. Loreto saw in her the beauty that she had, that the others didn't wish to see. The tender soul that yearned for the love and respect of others. The soul that was beauty in and of itself. He had showed her that not all men are scum, that she could and would be loved as she deserved.

Her name was Brianna, and she had moved to the Veldt with her parents for diplomatic reasons for King Edgar. The last he heard from Loreto, she was engaged to one of the dozens and dozens of Veldtic tribal princes, and was very much happy.

Still though, it stung to see his brothers earn the favor of every girl they encountered. He was a scoundrel himself, always chasing and giving, but lately his heart started to linger in the feelings he enjoyed so much and the dance of love started to slow. Oh, he still looked, complimented, courted and made love, but something was missing. Whatever it was, he wished to find it, so that the only pleasures he had found in the world would return to him and he wouldn't feel so...empty.

Cadence had teased him endlessly for it when she found out. She was older than him, always there for him, but yet when she giggled at him for it and promised to help him, it hurt even more. The foolish woman didn't know, and he doubted she would ever figure it out.

The world has damned me to this, he thought tiredly as he walked around the large crowd gathered around the Figaro gardens and court yards to prepare for the rite of passage. I deserve the turmoil I myself crafted.

His eyes caught sight of a tall, slender young woman watching him from the steps of the castle with several of her friends. He paused to smile at her and she returned it. He made a move to approach her, but something stopped him. He wasn't sure what, but when she started toward him, he turned and vanished into the crowd.

What is wrong with me?

The next day, when he found himself in the trouble of helping his mother with supply runs and various other tedious chores to help, he bumped right into Cadence. He was returning with a box of sewing supplies and other such things. He balanced her with one arm, holding the box with the other.

"And where are you off to in such a hurry, Cadence?"

She yanked her arm away, just a smidgen annoyed. She ignored his question and crossed her arms, arching a brow. "And what in heavens made Alexander the Great appear at the celebration preparation? Hmm?" she knew the nickname he had teased on about himself and used it effectively to tease him. It was really annoying, sometimes.

"Ah, you know," he said through a handsome smirk. "I cannot deny the requests of women, especially if she happens to be the one that birthed me."

She laughed. "Maria has you out and about, hm? About time she's put you to some use."

"Ouch," he said through a thin smile.

"Have you seen Cambyses, Alex?"

"If I have, I wish to forget it." She glared at him. "Why, has he run off on you already?" she smacked him across the arm to show him his jokes were to end right there. He yelped and rubbed at his arm. "Alright, alright, damn woman. No, I haven't. Why are you looking for him?"

She sighed and glanced around, as if she would have the luck of him just popping up into view. "His mother sent him to go find Emma, but that was well over an hour ago. I think he might have abandoned the search, though I can't be sure of that because I haven't found him."

The name oddly lit a flame in his belly. Suddenly in his mind he could see the princess' face. He wished to see her suddenly, to hear that cute little giggle of hers. He smirked. "If you want, I can help look."

"It would help, yes. If you see her instead though, tell her that her mother is looking for her. If you find Cambyses, tell him I am looking for him. And Alex...please, for the love of gods, do not antagonize him." she patted his arm on the sore spot before hurrying away.

With his mission in mind, he turned to the crowd. If he were an infuriatingly stubborn princess, where would he be in this hideous lot of fame seekers? He didn't bother to go looking for Cambyses. That moron was never part of the search. His heart and mind wanted to see the girl, and that was all.

He rubbed at his chin, thoughtfully. She could honestly be just about anywhere, the girl is so strange. The tourney stages, the sparing grounds, the artisan square, the festival stands, the food stands, the... he laughed. The food stands.

He hurried through the people, gently shoving them out of the way when voices could not reach them. No one really minded, it was very crowded after all, and others tried to get out of the way themselves if the space allowed it. By absolute accident he then broke out of the gathering area and into the armory holds, and right into the youngest prince of Figaro.

They both nearly fell into the dirt, had it not been for Sabin standing directly in front of them. His muscled arms reached out to effortlessly hold them up, and a goofy smile crept upon his face. "Lucky, you two. A drop would have been a taste of manure."

Alexander shoved out of his hands, embarrassed and yet very thankful he did not land face first in chocobo shit. "Aye, I'd say lucky too." Benjamin did not say anything. Instead he brushed his vest as if contact with Alexander spread some dirt upon him. It hit him that maybe the uncle or brother might have spotted the sister. "I am looking for the princess. Cadence asked me to look for her, if I couldn't find Cambyses. Have you two seen her?"

Benjamin scoffed. "I have a hard time believing Cadence sent you after my sister, Alexander."

"Believe what you will," he said shortly.

Sabin laughed and tried to split the two up before something could happen. "Easy you two, easy." and then he faced Alex. "Emma was here a short while ago. She came running through much like you. What I could get out of her before she hurried off again was, 'move, move, move!'. She was clearly in a hurry."

"Do you know where she headed?"

He shook his head. "No, but I suggest checking the artisan square or the food stands. If I know my niece, that's where she'll go...eventually."

Alexander laughed. He had guessed the same thing. It was clear the girl's habits and desires were known to everyone. The girl was oddly very simple sometimes. "Thank you, Sabin. I will head out now. If you do see her, send her to Cadence or her mother. They are both looking for her. And if you see your nephew, tell him he's an ass." he walked away just as Benjamin started chewing him out. Sabin held him back until Alex was out of sight.

About twenty minutes later he managed to dig his way out of the crowds into another section of the area, the artisan square. Two sections away would be the food stands, where he believed he would likely find the princess. Though now that he was here he might as well look, just to be sure. He dug about the elderly folk and women standing about the kiosks and tables, but couldn't spot the distinctive green hair of the princess.

He asked around just to be sure, but no one there could recall seeing the princess pass through that day. With a sigh of defeat, he moved onto the next section.

This section was far less crowded than the rest. It was the dinner area, where dozens of tables had been set up in wait for the celebrational dinners. The largest table was at the middle, and meant for the royal family. Only a few servants worked here, and a few more soldiers who were lazily leaning against posts, about ready to fall asleep.

He approached one of the servants hanging up decorations. "Excuse me, m'lady, I'm looking for the princess. Has she come through here?"

The young lady paused to look at him. "The princess? Hmm, I don't recall seeing her."

"The princess? What in heavens are you looking for that girl for?" Alexander turned to see the head of the Figaro services standing with her arms crossed. Rosalee! Her once auburn hair was starting to age and she had plumped out more over the years, but even then Alexander couldn't help but think how beautiful the women in Figaro were no matter the age.

"Her mother requires her appearance. Cadence sent me to look for her." the mistress hmm'd, a little in doubt. Why did everyone doubt it so? "Have you seen her, Rosalee?"

"Aye, I have, though it were morning when I did. She was in the kitchen looking for food when her father caught her trying to make off with boned meat. She ran away so fast...Oh dear I thought she would hurt herself, the poor girl! Her father's been looking for her this entire time, too."

Alexander started to laugh, so happily that the women just stared at him, concerned and confused. So she was staying out of sight because she was in trouble! The girl probably thought her mother was searching for her at the behest of her husband, and probably knew her brothers and Cadence would be sent after her too as agents to her father. To keep out of sight since morning was a skillful thing. He couldn't help but find the girl even stranger—even cuter.

"Thank you Rosalee, thank you. I will find her."

"You be good to her, you scoundrel." she warned, lifting a little tool at him threateningly. "Should I hear you weren't..."

He lifted his hands. "Now, now Rosalee, I'll be good. I will be off now. If she should come back through, try to tell her I was looking for her. It should keep her from peeling off at the speed of light again." he thanked the ladies again and pressed on. Two more likely sections left—the travel area, where the mounts and the like were stationed—and then the food stands.

He found the travel area well occupied by Figaro soldiers. They were busy making sure that the area could be properly protected, should something happen. There were two temporary watch towers enacted at each end of the area, fortified by thick sheets of iron. Only a dozen or so chocobos were about, and they were military birds.

Seeing that there was no tiny princess of green hair among any of the armored men or birds, he turned to leave when he caught sight of the king strolling towards him. It looked like the king hadn't noticed him yet, so Alexander quickly turned on his heels and ducked out of view behind one of the towers. Foot steps appeared a moment later by the tower. And another set too.

"I haven't found her yet, father." it was the crowned prince!

"Your sister will appear when she must, I'm sure," he said through a sigh of disappointment. "Gods be good, one day she will know the worry she sets in my heart with her stubbornness to listen. I suspect her uncle has been feeding that behavior lately, though. I will have a talk with him."

"Uncle doesn't mean anything by it," Cambyses said.

"I understand that, but he undermines my authority with that girl when he spoils her. And regardless, he knows the dangers to his niece's life. Boned meat, Cambyses, boned meat!"

"Father, she's sickly, she's not a moron," he said, annoyed. Alexander quietly continued around the back of the tower as they neared the front, so that he couldn't be seen. "She can handle boned meat just as well as I can. Really, you worry over her too much. It is no wonder she's spoiled with the way you loom about her."

"You think I spoil her?" Edgar sounded horrified by the idea of it.

"Father, you give her sweets all of the time. Sometimes even as a bribe to get her to be good, even more so when she was younger. This is beyond the promise you and mother made to each other to keep her healthy for the Sand Fever, too. You buy her gifts, toys and stores to make her smile. You have spoiled her beyond belief. It isn't uncle's occasional help at sneaking boned meat to her that is spoiling her."

Edgar simply scoffed. "This is ludicrous, son."

"If you have to punish her for something, punish her for something right."

"She disobeyed me," he said. "And if that wasn't enough, she took off when I called her."

Cambyses laughed. "You should have known better than to startle her in the middle of an act of 'disobedience'. You know she acts a fool when she thinks she is in trouble."

Edgar grumbled, annoyed to admit his son was right. Alexander frowned. He couldn't imagine someone could be so frightened of breaking a rule, of a parent, that they run off immediately. The princess really did think her family hated her, he realized, even when their intentions were just to keep her safe and healthy due to her illness. Even her father's overbearing love could be mistaken as dislike by the princess.

He sighed. The poor girl. Others would have called her an idiot, would have told her she was a terrible child, but he was starting to understand why the girl acted the way she did. So fidgety, confused, frightened by the mere idea of disappointing her parents—so naive. She was socially inept. Emotionally untouched and confused. In her eyes, he was sure even a rightful chiding by her parents could be taken as anger and hatred.

Damn, he thought. I should tell Cadence, see if the girl's parents know.

"You are right," he heard Edgar say. "If she had just waited to listen to me in the first place, she would have already known she wasn't in any trouble for it though. I will sit her down about disobedience now, however."

Cambyses chuckled as they got further away. "Oh, I'm sure that'll drag the girl out of hiding, father."

When Alexander was sure they were gone, he ran as fast as he could toward the direction of the food stands.

Instead of the princess though, he found empty food stands. Of course! Oh how he had been stupid! Why would the food stands be serving days away from the event? He smacked his head. He never would have expected such a moment of absolute idiocy from himself. He was sure he was pink all over, even if no one else knew what the hell he was doing there.

A stray dog was sniffing about though and it made him feel a little less foolish. He laughed and scratched the thing's neck before he knelt completely to think over where the princess might have gone. Could she have retreated back to the castle? No, he determined. She wouldn't return so early to the place where she was caught. If not there though, where?

"Hey scamp, do you know where our lord's daughter is, hmm?" the dog's ears perked up when the sound of music carried to them and then he bolted away from the direction it was coming from. "I can understand that...sometimes music is a bit much to bare." he stood and then glanced westward. Wait... "Of course!" he laughed. "The music area! Gods, I'm an idiot!"

He went the opposite direction of the dog as quickly as his feet could carry him. If he could just get a minute with the princess, alone and not disturbed, to just look at her and hear her voice, that would be worth all of the hassle he's been through looking for her. And if he could warn her about what he heard, even better!

He arrived in shallow breaths to see about two dozen people working about the music area. The dancing platform was currently being used by the dancers practicing, and the bards. The musical talent was also stationed on the platform, trying their hardest to concentrate while their companions made distracting noises or moves.

It was mostly the entertainment and the workers that lingered about. He continued on, still breathing hard as he tried to find the princess. He hoped this was the place he'd catch her. If not, she was probably already caught by her brothers or parents. He paused along the back of the platform, perhaps thinking she was hiding there, but found only a few instruments and workers.

"Crap," he whispered, kicking at the ground. He went to find a seat to reclaim his lost breath and energy with the workers tidying up the back of the platform. He found comfort under the shade of a nearby desert pine. He stretched out under the shade and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the bark.

"W-w-what is that called?"

His eyes instantly opened at the voice softly resounding through the noise. He got up quickly and looked around.

"...I don't know..."

The princess! He hurried to the side of the platform and then quickly ducked out of view when he spotted her talking to several of the dancers resting at the steps. It was a group of young women, with lithe bodies draped in strange, almost Veldtic like clothing.

Emma was wearing shorts that closed tight against her shins, the color of midnight embroidered with red and gold. Her top was a tunic that stopped a few inches above her breasts. It was made of the same colors. Her hair was brought down her back in one, thick braid. Each knot in the braid was huge, and he had never seen the style not only on her before but any Figaro-born woman. It was strictly a Thamasan braid. The Figaro royal braid was delicate, even the Southern Figaro braid was thinner and usually given as many twists and knots as possible.

She's beautiful, he thought, watching in awe.

The women were smiling patiently at their princess, some of the smiles showing a kind of 'oh, aren't you adorable' sentiments. As if she were no more than a toddler. "It is hard work, dear princess," one of them said, with hair like fire. She was incredibly beautiful, and Alexander couldn't help but notice the way Emma watched her the most. Smitten to her core. She was simply amazed by the women, and he found that to be very sweet. "We have less than a week left to iron out our routine too, which means if we show you our routine, it is less time for us to practice."

"I won't be a bother, I promise," she whispered. "I promise."

The woman laughed heartily. "How can I deny our princess, hm? Alright ladies, let's pick it back up and show our princess a peak at what lies ahead." the other women did not protest. They were up on their feet as if fully re-energized and up on the platform. Emma was smiling from ear to ear as she watched. The women gestured to the musicians and on their beat, the women started their dancing.

It was elegant twists, twirls, leaps, spins and steps that made a music itself. It was like a blend of Veldtic tribal dancing mixed with traditional folk steps of Thamasa, nurtured by the elegant opera dancing of Maranda and Figaro. Some of the workers and bards stopped their work to watch and clap along with the dancers. Emma too was excitedly clapping and giggling.

Alexander had to admit, the sight of it brought a cloud of merriment that could not be denied. He took a step, intending to go out and talk to the princess, when he saw that she started to dance herself. It wasn't traditional, like you might expect a noble woman to dance, or even the same kind that the dancers were using. It was free, wild, happy and done just for joy. She started dancing in place and then she started twirling around in a small circle, giggling as she tried to mimic the women.

The ladies on the platform laughed happily at her attempts to join and began dancing in a free form style much like hers. The musicians changed the tone of the song into a fast tempo, full of quirks and happiness. The workers started laughing and then joined in too. And as Emma twirled and did intricate yet simple movements reminiscent of a dance, her hair flew and her laughter grew.

Alexander was mesmerized. She was simply stunning. He wanted to run out and grab her arms and take her into a dance, he wanted to run out and take her in his arms and kiss that beautiful, smiling mouth of hers, but a certain someone spoiled the moment for everyone.

"Emma Aden Aria Figaro!" the sharp voice cut through the merriment like a knife to butter, and all stopped to find the source of the voice. Emma seemed to know instantly because she paled and turned to try and dig her way out of the workers and whatnot, but the crowd was too closely knitted. Her escape was doomed to fail from the start.

And then out from the other side of the crowd came her father and mother. Accompanying them were several soldiers, one of which Alexander was sure he saw before. Emma frantically tried to pry through the workers to escape but the men and women were still confused as to what happened to break their merriment. Emma squirmed, skin pale not only from the exertion but from the fear. "Move, please!" she begged the fellows in front of her, but it was too late. Her father's hand wrapped tightly around her forearm and yanked her out of the crowd into a small opening their presence had brought.

Her chest was still heaving from the dancing so she could barely get out an excuse or an apology or whatever it was she was going to say. The dancers looked on in worry, and because it was a little adorable to see the princess be chided for running about after orders.

"Heavens girl, look at you!" her father shouted, frightfully. "You can barely breathe!"

She tried to say something but her mother smothered her in a hug. "You weren't in trouble, you silly girl! Next time though if you continue to disobey us and run away when we are talking to you, you shall be!"

The king faced the dancers. "Thank you for sending a note ahead of time that our daughter was here. We have been very worried for her health." the red-haired dancer bowed her head in acknowledgement, missing the betrayed look the princess gave her.

"It was our duty, my king, but please...go easy on our dear princess. Remember when you were young."

The king was a little red, embarrassed. "Thank you ladies, but we must get our daughter to the castle and to some rest." he took his daughter by the arm and began to lead her away. Terra looked around at the faces watching, nervous, before she bowed her head and thanked them one last time before she too followed after her husband and daughter. As they walked away, Emma complained and tugged at her father's grip, still trying to get away.

Alexander chuckled. What a strange girl...

An hour later, when he finally returned to the decorations area to rejoin his parents, he found Cadence waiting for him. She charged right up to him. "Alexander! I've been looking for you! Did you find Cambyses?" He thought about telling her that he didn't 'see' him but spied on him before deciding not to. He shook his head. She sighed. "What about Emma?"

He smiled. "Aye..." his thoughts went back to the scene of her joyfully spiriting around and the pit in his stomach lessened. "I did." and then he bowed his head to her and walked away, leaving the woman to stare after him with wide eyes of confusion.

••••••••••••

"Ouch, ouch!" she yelped when her mother pulled at her ear when they were just outside her door.

"You made a scene the entire way here," her mother snapped, releasing her ear. Edgar was standing behind his wife with arms crossed and brows furrowed down at his daughter. "Even after we said you weren't in trouble you fought us tooth and nail. Heavens girl..."

Emma rubbed at her ear with a frown, eyes casted down. "I thought father was mad at me..."

"That doesn't give you the right to ignore us and go running away when we call you," she said, cutting her husband off when he tried to repeat the very same thing. Emma looked away, defiantly, so Terra took her face and made her look at them. "Listen to me Emma, you are not to behave like that again. Do you understand me?"

When she didn't say anything Edgar stepped up beside his wife and gripped his daughter's shoulder, just enough pressure so she was forced to look at him. It wasn't painful, but obvious pressure. "Listen to your mother. This cannot happen again. You do us a great dishonor when you act this way, especially in public. It is disrespectful. When others see you do it they think we cannot properly parent you—that you are some wild child. Is that what you want, hm? For people to think illy of us?"

"No, I just—"

"Then you will begin to act like an a child your age, like a well behaved daughter. This is the final warning, do you hear me? After this you will start getting punishments harsher each time you defy us. And believe me girl, it can get worse than helping out with the Races."

Emma gawked at her mother in betrayal. "You said I wasn't in trouble!"

Edgar sighed, exasperated and shook his head. Terra reached out to take her daughter's hands. "Emma, you aren't. Didn't you hear a word we just said?" she looked confused still, so Terra shook her head. "You aren't in trouble. Right now. We are just having a talk about your behavior."

"Oh..." it seems like they're mad at me though.

Edgar shook his head again and rubbed at his eyes. "Alright Emma. Get cleaned up and then get some rest. We will see you later." he brushed hair from her forehead and kissed it. "Behave, m'dear, behave." and then he briskly walked away, leaving his wife. She smiled at her daughter and then hugged her tightly before following.

When they were gone she went into her room and went to fill her basin with the hottest water she could. While it filled, she found some clothes proper for the weather and evening time, set them out on her bed and then hurried to the window. She threw it open and smiled at the sight of the others still hard at work for the rite of passage. She still hated it, but it was a lot of fun running around her parents, sometimes just steps ahead of them or hidden out of sight as they scurried about.

The dancing was the best part. She hadn't ever really done that before. The closest she got to it was her sparing with uncle Sabin. Beyond that she always felt so...strange wishing to do it. She saw Relm and Gau dance all of the time though, and she always remembered giggling and watching with absolute amazement. Today was the first time she had the courage to try it and not fear how stupid she might look to others. The dancers, so pretty and confident, had encouraged her even though they never voiced it. Just looking at them filled her with some strength.

Maybe she would be given another chance at that feeling again before the race, or even during. That would surely make the events that had transpired to put her at the race in the first place well worth it.

Forgetting about the basin, she suddenly heard water splashing to the floor. She gasped and hurried to the room. She caught it just as it was starting to overflow. She turned the water off and reached into the water. She unplugged the cork and let it drain some of the water before she resealed it.

She tiredly shed out of her clothes and relaxed into the water with a smile. She closed her eyes and let the heat seep deep into her bones, washing her away into a cozy peace.

When she heard the grandfather clock chime in her room to the hour, she forced herself out of the cooling water and into the toasty warmness of her royal towels. She had to be quick about this too, because she knew any minute now her mother would barge into the room while she was naked and trying to get dressed. It just never was her luck when it came to bathing now.

She messily dried her body, keeping an eye on the door, and then slipped into her evening attire. A fine small dress it was, the color a clear morning sky with the sweetest purples to highlight it. She was sure it would upset many but she loved it so much. Just as she reached for it though, and totally expected, her mother barged into the room to check on her. Luckily for Emma though she was in her undergarments, though she still shouted at her mother to leave.

"Supper is in an hour! Heavens, I expected you to bathe long, but this long? I'm surprised you haven't pruned up yet." Emma pinked and allowed her mother to near, because there was no point in fighting her. The queen was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it regarded her children. She took one look at the clothes her daughter had selected, clucked her tongue and said, "No, no, no! Not that for tonight, my dearest girl. We are dining with guests."

"Guests?" she repeated, confused. It was the first time she was hearing of this! "Who?"

Terra went to her chest of clothes and started to dig through it for something she believed was appropriate. "Why, the Cole family and your uncle's family."

"Oh," she muttered. She would definitely have to dress better if Cadence was there. She didn't want to embarrass such a lovely woman. Her uncle wouldn't have minded one bit how she dressed, nor her aunt. Though she couldn't say the same thing about her cousins. Her mother brought out a beautiful, traditional dress for the occasion. It was clearly of a design of a prior generation, maybe even two. Oh, she remembered it now. Her mother had it commissioned for her when she first arrived in Figaro, meant for the annual dinner parties and any other large event that might happen.

The chemise was a pearly white satin and frilly at the neck, with long flowing sleeves that tugged tight against the forearm. The bodice was made of dark, rich blue velvet drawn together at the middle by pearly string. The skirt was long, almost too long, and made of silk brocades the color of midnight blue. The embroidery threads were of golden stars, large and spaced beautifully besides long, golden silk dividers that ran down the front of the skirt, where it split to reveal another seat of skirts underneath as dark as coal.

It was beautiful, there was no denying it from Emma, but it did not fit her. She didn't...fill it out. What's more, the frilly design of the chemise tickled and irritated her collarbone too much. It was just too uncomfortable to wear.

"Please mother, there must be something else..."

"This will do. I haven't seen you in it yet and I'm sure you will look absolutely beautiful. Please?" she gave her daughter the best puppy-dog stare she could. Emma sighed and reached to take it out of her hands. "Thank you dear! Would you like some help dressing?"

"No, thank you..."

"Then I will be back to help you with your hair? Good. Hurry now dear, we do not have much time. Oh! I must go check on supper." she kissed her daughter's cheek and hurried out of the room. When the door closed, she groaned and hid her face into the silks. Tonight would be very embarrassing.

When she was through dressing, which took her a while because she forgot the dress laced together at the back, her mother returned with news that supper would be served to the dinning room in half an hour, after it has sat to juice. She then helped Emma with her hair, though she did not tell her daughter what style she was going to be wearing until it was too late to protest it.

Terra had braided her hair down her back into a narrow braid, which she fit through a mesh net that she tied in place with a thick, soft golden thread across her forehead. The rest of the braid was wrapped in hair gauze—thick, golden 'tape' in a criss-crossing fashion. After tidying it up some, Terra smiled. "There! Oh my," she started crying. "You...you look beautiful, Emma. Your father is going to be so proud when he sees you."

Emma blushed a little. Her father? No, he could never be proud of her. Besides, it was impossible that she could look beautiful. She reached up subconsciously to push the thread up and off her forehead, but her mother smacked her hand. "Ouch!"

"Leave that there, or the whole hairstyle will come undone. It only bothers you because are thinking too much of it. It is only for tonight, Emma, so please...behave and keep it on."

"Yes, mother," she conceded. "Can I come downstairs to the kitchen?"

"May you?" she asked, brows raised. Emma rolled her eyes, though luckily her mother hadn't seen. "If you went downstairs, you would ruin your dress. I know you, dear, and you are quite klutzy."

"But mother—"

"Proper Classical Figaro sentences do not start with 'but', Emma, nor will I accept them as objections, especially tonight." her eyes were serious, Emma knew this. She bowed her eyes, giving up. "I will have the guard come get you when supper is finished and set. Please do not ruin the dress. It looks so beautiful on you." she kissed her daughter's cheeks and then briskly went off.

When the door shut, she exhaled dramatically and shuffled very slowly to the mirror set above her dresser. She stared back at the foreigner in the mirror. She didn't look much like herself in fancy noble attire. She wasn't sure if that was all because she was unattractive, or if she felt she didn't belong in them. She pulled the frilly chemise away from her skin but it clung right back to her flesh when she let go.

Fifteen minutes later, as she was pacing because she did not wish to sit and ruin the dress, the guard left for her knocked loudly. "Princess? It is time to sup. Your mother said to bring you to the great hall." Emma went to open the door, smiling when she saw Jakle. He gaped when he looked at her. "You look beautiful, princess!"

"I...I do?" she asked, unsure.

"Gods be good to the fellow who catches your fancy, princess." his comment made her pink. She was very thankful for his comments, whether or not they were honest. He was a sweet man. He held out his arm. "Shall we go, princess? Supper grows cold." she smiled and hooked her arm through his, allowing him to guide her out of her room down stairs.

When they arrived at the great hall, Emma found that only her family had arrived. Her uncle and father were talking in the far back, whispers really, while her brothers were arguing over the bread in the baskets. Her aunt and mother were setting the rest of the table. And looking at her family, she was happy her mother pushed her to dress more nobly. Her brothers, cousins, uncle, aunt and parents were dressed as if they were going to a ball.

Her father looked absolutely handsome in his dark black-blue doublet and trousers, embroidered with gold and silver, much like her own. Her eldest brother was dressed almost identically, while the other was dressed in beautiful reds and golds. Her cousins were much the same as her youngest brother, only their colors reflected shades of dark green and black colors. Her uncle's attire was far more...modern. It was due to his size, she knew.

Her aunt and mother were dressed in long, flowing dresses of red or blue silks. When Emma looked closely, they were almost identical to the one she herself was wearing, except instead of stars there were just dots. They even wore the same headpieces and hairstyles. It was, she realized, a traditional Figaro attire! Emma felt a little more in place then. Her mother had helped her learn more about her own people, and not embarrass herself again by under dressing for the event.

She approached slowly, mostly due to the restrictions of her dress, going unnoticed at first. And then she passed her brothers to try and wrangle a chair out enough to sit on, for the dress was tiring, when the room quieted. She hadn't noticed it until she heard a quiet cough beside her. She looked up, confused, and stared right into the dark blue eyes of her father.

She immediately thought she erred and ducked her head. "I'm sorry, I...I just wanted to sit."

Edgar lifted her face so he could see her. For a moment he didn't speak, no one did, and then he brought her into a tight hug. One that made it a little hard to breathe. "You look absolutely beautiful, my dearest child," he whispered, hugging her tighter. When he pulled away, she thought she saw tears in his eyes, but she couldn't be sure. He laughed loudly, happily, as Sabin joined him with his wife at his side.

"Gods! Look at you! I haven't seen someone wear the traditional northern threads in a while, especially do so so beautifully," her uncle said, leaning down to gently kiss her cheek. Emma smiled. Her uncle always praised her. He did so for everyone, but there was a tone to him that no one could take for dishonesty. He truly meant what he said.

She did the best bow she could. "Thank you, uncle."

Karin giggled. "Terra was right; you fit that dress well."

Emma smiled at her, bright and happily. She did a courtesy, which further impressed her father. "Thank you, Aunt Karin."

The doors suddenly burst open and Locke stumbled in, a little pink. "I'm not late, I'm not late!" he shouted as he straightened to adjust his doublet, which he looked absolutely uncomfortable in. Celes appeared beside him a second later with a shake of her head. She was wearing a rather simple dress, but she looked beautiful all the same.

Their daughter and son came in together, arms through each other. Jacen was dressed in simple Marandan threads, a dark doublet and trousers, embroidered with the city's sigil over his heart. Cadence was dressed almost as simply as her mother, but her dress was of shiny red silk and gold thread. Her hair was left to cascade down her back in a beautiful waterfall.

Emma's eyes widened. The Marandan women never ceased to amaze Emma with their beauty.

Cadence caught her staring and smiled back, but Emma's face turned red and she looked away quickly. Oh, how utterly pathetic! As if looking the way she did wasn't enough, she had to be caught staring at such a beautiful woman like some jealous idiot. She sniffed back tears. No, she wouldn't cry. Not here, not now. She had to be strong.

Terra laughed and hugged Celes and Locke. "You are just in time, Locke, don't worry about it."

He made a sheepish expression. "Celes kept me true to my promise," he said, kissing Terra's cheek. "Hopefully she can keep it up."

"I will try my hardest," she said coolly. "You make it difficult in the mornings though." he just laughed at her remark and hung an arm over her shoulders. And then Celes noticed the princes. "We will wish you two the best of luck come the race. I'm sure you two will do just fine without it though."

Cambyses bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Thank you for the kind words, Celes."

"You are right though, we won't need it," Benjamin smirked. "We have been training for this day for years."

Emma came upon the realization of why they were having a special supper all of the sudden. It was a pre-race celebration. Another dinner for her brothers. She sighed before she meekly made her way behind her parents and brothers to find her seat. Her dress was too tight to let her move freely though and she nearly stumbled into her brother's chair. She caught herself on the edge of the table and quickly got back to her feet, praying that no one noticed.

They didn't. They were happily discussing the race and their days.

Emma smiled faintly. What luck. She found her seat.

"That reminds me," her father said after laughing at the recantation of Locke's newest failed treasure hunt in the Veldtic mountains. "Have you seen my daughter yet, Cole?" he turned and beckoned his daughter up with a quick hand movement. Emma paled. She only just sat! She awkwardly twisted her way out of the chair and into view, knowing that her face was redhot. "Isn't she simply beautiful?"

Locke and Celes smiled at her. "Jeez Ed," he said through a snort. "I didn't expect you to be happy over the fact that your daughter will craze the minds of men soon." that made the proud expression on Edgar's face drop into terror. It was obvious he did not yet think of what comes of having such a beautiful daughter. Locke placed his eyes on Emma. "You look very pretty, Emma." he did a small bow, one that was ill-formed and lazy.

"T-t-thank you, Lord Cole." Celes' cool eyes remained on her as her husband straightened.

"Now, may we...wait...aren't we missing people?" Locke looked around. "Where in bloody hell is Gabbiani and his pack?"

The family name being said filled Emma's belly with butterflies. Her throat felt choked. The Gabbiani family was attending?! Suddenly she felt very hot, and the breath she took felt harder and harder to take with each attempt. She blindly reached back for her seat and fell back into it. Her heart thrummed furiously against her chest.

Alexander was going to see her looking like this! Looking so...so...so ugly. The discussion around her was murmurs to her ears against her thoughts. Perhaps she could feign feeling unwell? Perhaps her parents would buy it. They loved to remind her she was sickly and pathetic and weak, didn't they?

A hand touching her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up into the warm, caring eyes of Cadence. There was a worried frown on her face. "Emma, it is good to see you again, but is something the matter? You look unwell."

Yes, yes! Unwell! She nodded. "Y-yes, I don't feel so w-well."

"I will tell your mother then," she patted her shoulder and briskly made her way toward the queen. As she engaged the queen, the doors opened and the Gabbiani family started to come in. Emma's sharp gasp drew the attention of her father but the arrival of the family made him look back. She stumbled to her feet quickly, bumping into the table in the process, and then stepped back.

Maria and Setzer greeted her parents and the others with smiles and apologies for being late, and that's when she saw Alexander's distinctive height loom over her mother. He hadn't seen her yet, he was seeking out Cadence, but she knew he would see her soon enough. The panic in her heart grew into painful thrums and even though she wanted to move, she could not. Her chest felt tight, and her head rung. There was a lightheadedness that came then that left her weak and then everything went black, and she hit the floor.

••••••••••••

"Emma!"

Edgar turned at the shout of his wife and saw that his daughter had hit the floor. His wife was near in just a second with Celes and Cadence at heel. She lifted her daughter's head off the stone floor carefully. Her expression was of horror when she looked at her stunned husband. "Edgar!" he went over immediately as the others formed a circle to watch, concerned and curious.

"Is she okay?" he whispered, touching her hands.

"She told me she wasn't feeling well," Cadence said. "I...I should have reacted faster."

Celes knelt and felt the princess' forehead and then checked her pulse. "Her pulse is weak." she felt around the girl's head, felt a bump where she hit the stone and then noticed a small trail of blood from her nose. Terra gave a cry of dismay and hugged her daughter's hand to her chest. "It is fine Terra, calm down." she told her friend sternly, before looking up at Cadence. "Did she say anything else? What she was feeling? If she hit her head or if she ate anything?"

"Maybe she feinted because she was hungry or thirsty," Sabin suggested softly. "It has happened before."

"Aye," Edgar said, hopeful. "Do you think it is serious, Celes?"

"No, I do not," she said, standing. It sounded like there was more she wanted to say, but chose not to. "We should bring her to her room to rest though. She hit her head pretty hard."

"I could take her, brother." Sabin said.

"No, no, I will. You all...please, sit, eat...relax. I shall return shortly once I have set my daughter to rest." he bowed his head to them and then knelt to lift her into his arms. When he saw that no one moved, he frowned. "Please. Emma would hate it if she found out she feinted and drew our plans asunder. Continue, for her." and then he left the room in a quiet shock.

Terra sat blindly on the nearest seat and covered her eyes. Celes reached to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Terra, worry not. I'm sure it was nothing. It was probably that damn dress that caused her to feint."

"I shouldn't have pushed her to sup with us," she whispered tearfully. "I always put aside how frail she is..."

"Now, now," Locke said. "None of that Terra, none of it. You are a fine mother, and your daughter knows it. Let's focus on supper, and not build reason, as Ed said, to make Emma feel guilty over."

••••••••••••

Edgar ended up staying with his daughter. When he sat her upon her bed and removed her little shoes, he couldn't abandon her upon seeing her face. He took the net out of her hair and sat it aside and then took the extra layers of clothes off of her, hoping it would help her breathe more easily. And then he pulled a chair up beside her bed and held her little hand. The excitement of the supper or the hunger in his belly had completely left him. Now all he did was worry.

It took some time for her expression to settle more peacefully, and when it did, he tucked her hand under the sheets and went to leave. As he closed the door behind, he paused to look at her. "Sweet dreams, my girl, sweet dreams." and then he closed the door, posting two guards outside to keep an eye out on her.

When he returned to supper, they had already finished eating and were in the middle of a discussion. Terra rose from her seat immediately, frowning. "Edgar, is she...?"

"She rests well," he said, not noticing the expression the oldest son of the Gabbiani family made. "I'm sorry I missed the supper, but I just could not leave her." Cambyses got out of his chair and left the room quietly. Benjamin just continued to stuff his face, making an expression that pleaded, 'don't look at me next'. He faced the others and offered an apologetic bow. "I must apologize, but I have to call the supper to an end, you understand?"

"Of course we do, Ed," Locke said, standing. "Give our best to Emma." Celes lingered with another look to Terra before hurrying after her husband. Jacen looked disgruntled before he too left. It was Cadence that stayed until the remaining families left.

"Your Grace," she said, addressing Terra and Edgar. "I would be honored to look after your daughter when I can."

"We would appreciate that, but we couldn't possibly—"

"I would love to," she insisted. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to be there during the race. For her."

Terra smiled at the young woman. "Thank you Cadence...we...we would appreciate it." she took Edgar's hand when he neared. "Thank you."

••••••••••••

Emma woke in a start. She grimaced immediately and lifted a hand to touch the tender whelp on the back of her head. What happened to me... she rubbed at her eyes and then tried to get out of bed, only to fall to the floor due to the unexpected resistance of her dress. Her chin smacked right into the floor and she bit her tongue. Tears burned in her eyes but she managed to hold back a curse from the gods and get to her hands and knees. Oh, I'm in a dress. That's right! The dinner!

She struggled up and felt that the velvet vest had been removed, thankfully. Why don't I remember anything though? she got to her feet slowly and went to find something else to dress into. Her stomach protested angrily a moment later and she realized she had not eaten.

Her head hurt too, but only dully. It was that swell that hurt the most. She carefully pulled a tunic over head but it rubbed the swell and made her shout in pain. She bit down on her lips and dance in place to wait out the pain.

There was a knock on the door, which startled her.

"Princess? Are you awake?" it was a soldier. He did not wait for a response. "You have a guest here to see you." Emma frowned. If it were her mother, she would pester her and squeeze the life out of her, and then stuff her full of horrible foods and medications. She cautiously asked who it was. "Lady Cadence, of the Cole family."

Relief flooded through her and she approached the door, though she wondered why Cadence came to see her. When she opened it, Cadence stepped in quickly and lifted her face into the light, to inspect her. "Are you well now, Emma?"

She nodded, stepping back. "Y-yes...I think." she waited until the soldiers left, presumably to tell her parents that she was up, before asking, "What happened?"

"You feinted," she answered softly.

Well, that made perfect sense. It also explained her memory issues. She sighed. "Oh..." and she did that in front of Alexander. She was sure she looked like an incapable, weak fool. Tears burned in her eyes. How could she be so unlucky? "Lady Cadence?"

"Hmm?"

"Did...I mean...was—was...did everyone see me feint?"

Cadence's expression soften and the young girl knew it was a 'yes'. "Emma, no one thinks ill of you for it."

She doubted that, but that wasn't why she feared being seen feinting. "I know..." she whispered, rubbing some stray tears away. "Lady Cadence?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Is...may I have something to eat, please?"

The young woman smiled softly and held out a hand for her. "Of course dear, we'll get you something to eat."

Emma accepted her hand very shyly. "Thank you, Lady Cadence."

"Please Emma," she asked as she closed the door behind her. "Call me Cadence."

••••••••••••

Emma was neatly guided through the halls passed the kitchens and great hall by her beautiful escort until they happened upon the queen and king. Her mother took her up in a tight, loving hug and kissed her face all over with tears in her eyes. Emma could scarcely breathe. She struggled out of the ironclad hold of her mother at last and frowned at the hundreds of questions she had been tossed in the last minute.

She couldn't recall all of them, so she just said, "Yes mother, I'm fine..."

"How is your head, m'dear?" her father asked, eyes searching hers. He would find a lie instantly, she knew, so she ducked hers and nodded.

"Fine, father."

"That is well to hear, my girl. Are you feint? I could have the chefs prepare you a meal."

The talk of food had suddenly lifted her spirits. She smiled. "Yes father, I would like to eat."

"Then I shall have it set up," he looked at his wife. "Terra, my sweet, accompany our daughter please. I must speak with Cadence for a moment." Emma glanced at the escort at her side in confusion, but the woman's expression was one of equal confusion. Terra nodded and took her daughter's hand.

"Come Emma, let us go."

As she was dragged away, she asked, "What is he talking with Cadence for?" a bit loudly, which caused her mother to 'sssh!' immediately. Emma glanced back and watched as her father led Cadence by the arm, as a gentleman would do, out of sight.

Her mother sat her quickly into a chair when they were in the kitchen and went to cut up some vegetables and fruit. Emma watched in horror. Surely her mother hadn't meant to feed her like she was some rabbit? Some...some leafer?! She swallowed back a complaint because she knew that would upset her mother and instead asked, "Mother, may I have some meat?"

Her mother chuckled. "Yes, dear, but not too much." though she didn't say what kind of meat she would let her daughter have, she was gracious. "After, we will walk the gardens. There is much I must discuss with you."

Her face paled. "Am...am I in trouble?"

Terra laughed, "No, dear, no. Just be sure to eat your fill."

Emma spent the next half an hour wondering what her mother could possibly wish to discuss, and how it could tie in to her father talking with Cadence. Her first thoughts was that her father was talking to Cadence about her brother. It was common knowledge that the two were in love, and you would have to be a fool to think they wouldn't eventually wed, so perhaps it concerned a tie-in to their families.

That would mean Cadence would be queen...she would be my sister. She smiled. The idea of it was charming. If that were to happen, she would spend the rest of her days learning to become more ladylike. To be more like Cadence—a beautiful, strong, smart woman that all had good impressions of. Then her sweet thoughts soured. What if her brother had filled Cadence's head with slander? What if Cadence thought that she was a simple girl, some bastard and idiot?

Her mother sat a plate of finely cooked chicken and vegetables in front of her, with three pieces of fruit beside it. A glass of tea was placed beside the plate. She sighed. "Mother?" she asked, as the queen sat to drink her own glass of tea. The late afternoon sun was shining through the windows above the counters and sink. "What...what is father discussing with Lady Cadence?"

"It is not of our concern," she said quietly, though Emma knew that her mother knew but decided she couldn't know. "A king does not discuss the importance of the kingdom with his daughters or wife." again Emma knew that her mother was lying. Her father was not a typical king, or a man. He shared everything with her, and she with him. It was obvious that whatever it was, it was something that Emma was not to know concerning herself or something "adult" like in nature—such as death or unsightly things a lady should not know. "Now eat dear."

Emma stabbed at her food, suddenly unimpressed with it. Now all she could think of was what was going on. When she finished eating, her mother rose from her chair to take the dishes and clean them. "Mother, why are we going to the gardens?"

"To talk," she said, trying her hardest to avoid the subject.

"...about?"

"You shall see," she said, finishing her task and turning to her daughter as she dried her hands on a towel. "Are you ready to go?"

Emma hurried off her seat, very excited and yet very afraid. "Yes, mother, I am ready."

••••••••••••

Edgar lent his hand to Cadence for support until she was seated in one of the council chairs of the war room. It was a strange place to hold a talk with a lady, he knew, but he also knew it was less likely to store unwanted ears or eyes. A war room was a place for the king and his generals only. A maid, servant, soldier, lord, lady or the like caught meddling without direct permission from the king would be sent to the cells to await inspection, and if found guilty, sentenced to treason or the like.

It was a place beyond that of evil thoughts. Thoughts a woman so pure and of good heart like Cadence should not have to bare upon her shoulders. He would pray it would not taint her so, or that she would not find insult in it.

"What would you like to discuss, Edgar?"

"My daughter. I have already spoken with your father and mother, and they have agreed. However, they made a good point and that was that I must discuss it with you first. As my son, and you are..." he hesitated on the word they both knew Cambyses was. He was still a very shyly man when it came to women and...things. "My son will fight it and make my daughter feel uneasy and guilty over it."

"Over what, Edgar? I am still very confused."

Edgar took a breath. "Some time after the race, Terra and I wish to foster Emma to your house in Maranda." he could see the surprise cross her face easily. Locke and Celes had reacted much the same, though Celes was exceptionally fond of the idea. "We haven't decided on a direct date, but we know she must be fostered before her youth years are behind her. It has always been that way with daughters of Figaro, and it only ever gave our princesses options and education and a lively life. I would be honored for my only daughter to foster with you and your parents. The courts and city life of Maranda would also do her good to learn and adjust to."

"Edgar, I...I would love nothing more than to live with your daughter and have her has my foster-sister and I will fight Cambyses until the last of my breath to keep his thoughts to himself, but...but I have to tell you that your daughter will not like this."

"Why? She seems very fond of you, and she has loved the tales of your father every since she was a child. And Celes, m'dear? She thinks your mother is invincible."

"She would see it as a means of getting rid of her," Cadence said softly. "She would think you do not want her here."

Edgar was quiet for a moment. He did not think his daughter would consider it to be motivated by dislike, but now that he thought on it, it was very much like her. She was a sweet thing, a trusting girl with a frail heart. It would easily upset her. He sat quietly. "I hadn't considered that but..."

"I could try to convince her your intentions are pure, but I do not think it would go well. However," she said, leaning forward. "I wish for her to foster with my family. To foster in Maranda. It as you said—the city and court life will do her well. She could be far away from the council, and taught a lifestyle she could not learn in Thamasa or even here. Perhaps she could even find a life of her own there. I will talk to Cambyses, if you still wish to go through with it."

Edgar smiled and took her hands. "Of course. It was hard to decide, but Terra and I eventually realized it would do our daughter good."

"What brought this on, if I may?"

"Firstly, because we do not think we can handle what our daughter needs. It is clear we can only rear her so far. And lastly, Terra and I have been getting unsavory status reports on our daughter's time in the academy. She has bullies, you see. Cruel children that aim to only hurt her. I saw it myself a few days ago. They had the nerve to bully her in my own court yard..."

"I'm...I'm so sorry Edgar, I didn't know."

"She had finally adjusted to Thamasa. She made friends...and yet we took her away to a live of torment." he shook his head. "I will do whatever I can to make it better and I believe sending her to foster would be the best option for her right now. It would have to be after her first semester at..."

"At?" Cadence pushed, frowning.

"It hasn't entirely been discussed, but we are also considering sending her to East Gate or Gale. A semester there before the fostering would ensure that she has the proper education behind her to find seats or duties in Maranda without the mere association to the crown. And Terra would kill me if I took her out of the academy before she could finish her current year."

"It makes sense, Edgar," she said. "Then you mean to foster her with us sometime after her fourteenth name day?"

"Aye," he said. "A suitable age for the fostering and to leave the academy for some time."

Cadence smiled. "I would be honored Edgar. I have become very smitten with your daughter, after all."

Edgar laughed and reached out to pat her hands. "You do me a great service, my lady." he kissed her knuckles. "Now then, shall I walk you back to your quarters?"

••••••••••••

Her mother was quiet for the longest time. Emma wasn't sure what to take of it. If she wasn't in trouble and her mother absolutely would not discuss whatever it was her father needed with Cadence, then she had no idea what could b e going on. What kind of trouble she could be in, if at that.

As they passed the rose garden, her mother tightened her grasp on Emma's hand. "The Antlion race is just three days away Emma."

"Yes, I know mother. I have been helping, I have."

She chuckled. "Oh, it isn't about that. And I believe you. This is about the day itself."

"Oh," she mumbled. "What about?"

"Your duties, for one, and your punishment for another." She sighed. "I'm sure you know that your punishment means you will be helping during the day, tending to the boys."

"Yes mother..."

"I want you to know though," she said, stopping to face her daughter, taking both hands in hers. "I am proud of you. No matter if you didn't wish to be there helping. I think you standing for your beliefs is a wonderful thing. However..." She faced her daughter, taking both hands. "I understand it hurts to do something like this even though you do not wish to. I know you feel like you matter less than men because of it but you don't. And I also have pride in the fact that you will do this still even with a punishment. It matters a lot to your brothers."

Emma looked away. She wasn't doing it because it mattered to her brothers, not entirely. They only believed that was all she was good for and she hated showing them that they were right. That she was useless. She only did it, really, because she was told to by her parents—by her king and queen. And despite how badly she wished to disobey them, she shamefully knew she feared them and respected them too much as both king and queen, as well as father and mother.

"After the race," her mother continued. "Your father and I intend to seat you at our side instead of your brothers." that made Emma look at her mother in absolute surprise. The mere idea of such a thing was disgraceful. Disrespectful. And shameful to the people who were removed. To put her in the place of her brothers, during a day celebrating them, was a...it was unspeakable. And Emma knew it would make her brothers hate her with every fiber of their bodies.

"No!" she said, releasing her mother's hands. "You can't! You can't do that! You can't!"

"Emma, calm down—"

"They will hate me! They will be furious!"

"Seating sons by the father has only ever been a tradition Emma. Your great, great, great grandfather sat his three daughters, all younger than their brothers, at his side. And his sons did not mind. King Eldric the Wise once sat his first born daughter on the seat to his right, one seat over his wife and before his crowned prince, out of respect. It is not—"

"You can't! I won't accept it!"

Terra just looked at her, stunned. "Your brothers would not hate you for it, Emma."

"You don't know that!" she cried. "Please, just seat me in my place...w-w-where I belong."

"This...this is how you truly feel?" she asked after a respectful moment of silence. Emma's tears was the only answer she needed. She took her daughter into a hug. "Oh my sweet girl...my sweet, sweet little girl. If you feel so strongly, I will do as you ask. This I swear."

"Thank you mother," she hugged her tighter, trying to stop the tears. "Thank you."

••••••••••••

The day that followed her discussion with her mother in the gardens was quiet. Her parents were painfully absent. Even her brothers were strangely missing from view, except when night fell and they stumbled into the kitchen weak and tired from training to eat and drink. They usually stunk and if Emma didn't know any better, she would say they were clearly drunk. Her uncle and aunt were pretty much out of view too, and she never saw her cousins. Whatever they were doing, it was outside of the castle. She was sure it was more training though.

In fact, the days leading up to the race, the only person she ever really saw every day and more than once was Jakle. He seemed to be shadowing her everywhere she went, even when he wasn't required to by her punishment. She didn't mind so much. He wasn't like Wren, or other captains and soldiers. He was kinder, quieter. Less willing to voice any tease in his mind.

And whenever Emma did see her mother, she was hurrying to her room in a secretive hush-hush still. Her parents sure were acting strange. In the quiet of her room, she reflected on their strangeness. After her mother revealed her little attempt to reseat her at the race dinner, she could only imagine that whenever they were cooking was equally threatening to the fragile relationship she had with her brothers.

She tugged a book off her shelf, one about Morphosyntax by some well known Linguist from Kohlingen, and laid down flat on her bed with the book across her belly. I'll have to stay out of sight, she thought. She knew her father was not one to let the childish insecurities of his sons deter something he wished to do. She knew this. So it was very likely her father would still try to seat her at his side during the dinner.

I could sit with uncle. He wouldn't try to make me get up then...it would cause a scene. Or maybe I could sit with Cadence...oh, she wouldn't wish to sit with me. I'm sure she will want to sit with Camb or her own brother.

If she had no one to sit with, her father would certainly try to force her to sit with him. And infuriate her brothers. She dropped the book with a sigh and rolled over to look out the windows. There had to be some plan she could use to fight against her father but she knew if it came down to it, she would have to embarrass herself by causing a scene. She would rather face her brothers teasing her for being a child than snarling and glaring and insulting her for taking their seats on the most important day of their lives.

Emma dropped her face into her mattress with an agitated groan. The things she did for love.

On the day that the Antlion race occurred, Emma finally found out one of the secrets her mother had been keeping. It was a curious thing to see her run away at the first sight of her own daughter to her room, or spend hours alone doing heavens what in her room, but when it was revealed to her Emma was absolutely delighted.

In the days leading to the race, her mother had been working tirelessly creating a beautiful, flowing yellow dress completely from scratch. With Celes' help too, of course. It ruffled at the end and cupped down in a heart shape above her breasts. A pale pink belt had been created too, in the likeliness of twisting flowers. The shoes, flat and brown, were not handmade though but sent in from a fine shoppe from Albrook. The sun hat was purchased from a local village along the southern shore, and given a pretty yellow ribbon around the base.

Pinned into the hat was the sigil of the royal family, fitted to pay respect to her status. Instead of the upright lion, it was a seated lion. One given to the ladies of the royal family born to the crowned line. This would have been enough for Emma, as she hated the idea of it, but her mother also had a sigil fastened to the heart of the dress, with a flowering rose made behind the lion. Another sigil of the royal family, dating back to the famous marriage of Figaro to a lady of Doman heritage.

Despite this though, Emma fell in love. It was the prettiest thing she had ever received, made even more lovely simply by the fact that her mother had created it from hand just for her. She knew she was crying and unwilling to let her mother think she thought nothing of it, she reached to hug her. As tightly as she could.

"Thank you mother! It is beautiful!"

Terra giggled and kissed her daughter's face as she always did. "I'm so thankful you love it dear, but that's not all to the surprise." Terra had said afterward, smiling. "I brought over Cadence to help where I cannot."

Before Emma could process the name, the door opened and in came Cadence, dressed beautifully in her sky blue dress and sun hat. Emma stared like an idiot as her mother kissed Cadence's cheek and thanked her for coming over. "I shall leave the rest to you then, Cadence." and then she quietly left them be.

Emma was sure her heart was racing so fast that this beautiful woman could hear it. The last time she had been so close to this woman was the pre-race dinner and she had made an utter fool of herself by feinting. Now once again this beauty was beside her and she knew she would be making a fool of herself again, and still looking unbelievable plain.

What made her even more nervous was the woman's kind words concerning her character. She knew it was small talk, polite and required of her, nothing short of exaggeration, but the compliments had sparked a longing in Emma to be 'just another girl' once again.

"You know," Cadence said in her chilling voice. "You really do have long hair. I'm a bit jealous." she was tying a yellow ribbon at the end when she looked up to see the princess' reflection in the mirror before them. Emma was sure her blush was nothing short of humoring to her brother's lover. "You're skin is very beautiful, too. I think I have just the shade for you. I think it will go with your pretty eyes, too."

"I...I have pretty skin?" She asked softly, unsure. No one but her parents said she had beautiful skin. Everyone else thought her skin was too ghastly pale to be considered pretty.

Cadence didn't seem pleased by the sound in her voice, for her brows furrowed. "Of course. I would not lie to you." she gave the girl a warm smile. And then she spun the princess' chair around so she could apply the makeup she brought with her. When she finished putting a slight gloss over the girl's lips, Emma shifted on her buttocks, her back starting to ache.

"Does makeup really help?" She knew the reason people put makeup on, what she had meant was 'will it help me?' but she didn't want to be lied to by Cadence.

"Help with what?" Cadence asked with a cork of her eyebrows. "Women often misuse makeup. They use it to hide their natural beauty when it is only meant to highlight. I don't want to cover your face Emma, it is too pretty to hide away. This makeup," she said, brushing something across her cheeks. "will just help compliment your natural beauty. And this," she said, popping out a jar of thick, red liquid. "will help those beautiful lips entrance all the boys."

Emma was very thankful for the makeup, for she knew it hid her face well. "I wish you wouldn't say such things," Emma admitted, painfully. Cadence stopped, a smidgen of the red liquid on a strange little hard brush.

"What things?" she asked, lowering the brush.

"That I'm pretty," she answered quickly. "I know I'm not. I got over it a l-l-long time ago."

"Who said you aren't pretty?" she demanded hotly, setting aside the brush. "Well, who?"

For a second, it was quiet as Emma thought about saying 'nearly everyone' but instead brought up the closest example she could think of; her cousin. "Zellum..."

Cadence rolled her eyes at that name, genuinely annoyed. "Zellum? Why would you pay that halfwit any of your attentions? You are very pretty Emma. Some man with a stick up his ass does not change that." It isn't just him, Emma thought. "You are beautiful. Not in the same way as your mother, or Relm, but you are." she gently touched the princess' jawline and then her nose. "I have never seen this in a girl before Emma. You are uniquely beautiful." Those 'unique' features were often the cause of her insults. They were too 'strange' in a girl. She doubted Cadence would ever tell her the truth; no one seemed to. So she just smiled at the woman. "And there is another example...that smile. Now...puck your lips slightly for me." Emma did as she was told and Cadence lifted the brush again. "Yes, like that! Sit still...and...there! Done!"

Cadence sat aside the brush and put her hands on each side of the chair. "Would you like to see Emma?" For a second she wanted to scream 'no!' but she did not want to waste this woman's time, or her mother's, so she nodded, fearing the results. Cadence smiled and turned the chair back to the mirror and the princess left out a sharp gasp.

What she saw in the mirror was a part of herself she never thought she would see; beauty. Cadence had worked magic, or so Emma liked to believe. She looked so different, so girly...she looked like a someone. A someone people would like. A smile spread across her face and Cadence grinned. "Do you like it?"

Oh yes, she loved what she saw very much. She wanted to cry, instead she nodded and said, "Yes, I do. Thank...thank you so much Lady Cadence."

"You are more than welcomed," Cadence laughed. "How about after the race and festivals I show you how to do this? After today I have no doubt you will have boys throwing themselves at your feet."

At her feet? The idea alone made her heart flutter. She would love just for one to stop and tell her she looked pretty, in any way that was possible. The offer to learn to do this to herself was tantalizing. "I would very much appec...appee...appreciate that, Lady Cadence."

"Then it is a date! And you can call me Cadence, Emma, I would prefer it too." she giggled. "Alright then, how about you get your basket ready and we can go? I've got mine ready," she patted the basket by her feet, "so we can go at any time."

Cadence joined her in the walk to the racing stages and even offered to carry the second basket of decorations Emma had bought earlier. It was embarrassing to her to know she was too short and too weak to carry both the baskets at the same time, but she was extremely grateful. It did, though, make her regret quitting her uncle's classes so many months ago against her parents wishes.

When they saw their mothers by the tables fixing the ribbon cables, they went over. Her mother gasped and grabbed her face to coo at her.

"Oh you look absolutely charming, dear!" her mother almost started to cry. "So beautiful..."

"Emma, you look great." Celes offered through a smile, having appeared beside the queen.

"Thank you Lady Cole." she dipped her head and lifted the ends of her dress in the formal bow and Celes giggled. And then she handed her mother the basket of ribbons.

"Perfect, thank you Emma." and then she pointed to the crowd of boys behind her; anxious, hot and tired. "Cadence will help you with the boys." and then Emma was dragged away by Cadence and on the walk she explained what to do.

"There are a few things you should know I have a feeling your mother forgot to mention."

"Like what?" Emma asked, lifting her eyes to catch the woman's expression.

"While you are to attend the boys here, you should not attend the married men."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Cadence started, unsure. "If a man is married, do not go to him. Not even when he calls you over. It is inappropriate and will only earn you glares from the wives and older women, plus the rather disgusting behavior of the men. Believe me, you do not want that." She shivered.

"How do I know if he's married?"

"Just avoid the older men all together if you are unsure, unless you know for a fact they aren't married, but that probably only leaves you male family. If you have to ask married men, look for someone whose wife will not care if their husband is escorting another or, as I said before, male family. For example your uncle or my father might be acceptable since my mother and your aunt certainly wouldn't mind. Or even General Hals or Suon."

"Okay," Emma smiled. "I understand."

"Oh, and another thing," she paused, stopping Emma from moving by grabbing her arm. "There is something you can do, if you want, to get out of this all together."

"There is?"

"Yes, it is called 'Claiming'. Find a boy, a man—uncle, brother, cousin, it doesn't matter as long as you trust them—and ask them to Claim you for the day. They will make sure, provided you tell them what you want and why you want to be Claimed, that you can easily ignore a call from the boys."

"Claiming?" she asked with a rise of her brows. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly as it sounds," Cadence said with a giggle, releasing the girl's arm. "Try your brothers, or your father first. Or maybe your uncle. Just ask them and if they accept, you basically only provide for him that day. Of course, if your brother Claims you, for example, and doesn't need you you can very well spend the day however you want. Of course, you can easily just ignore all the calls without Claims or the like...but I'm sure you don't want the poor babies to complain that you aren't cooperating in these stupid Rites, do you?"

Emma giggled. "No, I don't."

"Okay then," she leaned over to kiss Emma's cheek. "I will go find your foolish brother Cambyses, where ever he may be, you go get Claimed if you can. I will see you at the dinner and remember," she lifted a finger. "just have fun. This day may not be meant for you, but you can surely have fun still. Good luck!" and then she turned for the eastern swarm of men and boys—all of which, of course, tried calling her over only for her to smile devilishly at them—and disappeared behind them.

Emma decided to do exactly as Cadence suggested; find someone she knew and asked to be Claimed. First she sought out her uncle. He was standing aside an open stand where smoked meat was being served. He was ordering slices of jerky when she appeared by his side, startling him.

"Uncle, would you mind Claiming me for the day? Please? I'd—I'd bring you fruit and drinks, I just—just don't want to run around anymore."

Sabin laughed and ripped at a piece of jerky. "Me? You want me to Claim you?" she nodded vigorously. "I would if I could, baby girl, but I can't."

"Why?" she asked pointedly, frowning.

"First, I'm married," he smiled at her patiently and she blushed, humiliated. Cadence had said it was okay if she asked a man she knew and would be okay with it. "And although Karin would understand—I doubt she'd want to rip your eyes out—and it would be possible, it would still be inappropriate and I don't want the other ladies messing with you. Second, I've been Claimed by my wife today. You can only be Claimed by one person, remember?"

No, I don't, she wanted to snap. No one bothered to tell me about this! "I...okay, I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Aww, wait Emma, c'mere." he said when she began to walk away. "Let me see if my sons are clear to help you." to Emma's astonishment, his twins were just around the stand, stuffing their faces with jerky and other meats. "Ardel, Theo...have you boys Claimed anyone yet? Emma here needs someone to Claim her. Free her from the lechers, boys."

The boys smiled. "We've been Claimed."

Proud, Sabin laughed. "Oh, who?" and the boys pointed to two girls, a brunette and red head, waving at them. "Oh, pretty girls you two managed to get. Alright then, off you go and if you see Zellum tell him he better not be drinking again."

"Yes father!" they shouted before they ran off toward their girls.

Sabin turned to Emma with a shrug. "I'm sorry Emma, I thought I could help. Maybe Locke's boy is free? If not, you could always try General Hals. I'm sure he'd be willing to help you out." and then he went back to eating his jerky.

Emma spent the next hour tracking down Suons and then Hals, and when she found Hals he was busy yelling at the soldiers in charge of the carriage fees back to the castle. "Oh, Emma, you startled me." he said as he fixed the way his armor sat against his neck. "Is there a problem?"

"I...I was wondering if you would Claim me? I—I won't bother you, I promise, I just want to sit down and rest."

He smiled at her handsomely. He had no wife, for he was a widow, so there was nothing like that to worry about—and that made Emma feel horrible for thinking—and his daughters had moved to Albrook with their husbands, so none of that either. She prayed Hals would save her.

"Emma, I have to decline." She looked at him with wide eyes of shock. She never expected to be declined, least of all by Hals. "And I'm afraid you will find the same answer from Suon. I don't mean to be frank or rude, my princess, it is just we have much to do and I will be running the Race and Tourneys. Suon will be leading the practice rounds and Lift matches. We won't have the time and you wouldn't be able to stay around here," he gestured to the soldiers. "as the area is off limits until the end of the Race at most. Too dangerous with all these chocobos and people arriving as well. I cannot, in good faith, Claim you."

Emma felt her cheeks burn in humiliation. His answer sounded like pure lies. There was another reason he did not want to Claim her. She had a pretty good guess as to why and it almost brought her to tears. He never did like her much. He was pleasant to her constantly, endearingly nice, but she had overheard him one day in Thamasa talking to Suon how she 'just didn't compare to her brothers' and that he did not think she should come home to Figaro. She had hoped, through all this time, he had changed his opinion of her. Oh how she was horribly wrong.

She wanted to be mean. She wanted to be nasty. She wanted to make him feel the same way. "Of course, you are too old anyway." she bowed her head to him and turned away, leaving him sputtering and embarrassed himself.

By now she had exhausted all her options. She wanted to find Jacen, but he was no where to be found. Had he not come today? Did he already pass his rites? And then, as she was digging through the crowd for him, she was called here and there by boys who were thirsty, hungry or by those who just wanted to show their younger brothers or other girls, or even friends, that he could command her around so obediently.

Her last straw was when a boy, probably a few years older than her, called her a lazy wench. She threw fruit at him, staining his cloak and attire, and fled to her mother's side, whom was busy handing out little wooden flutes to cheer the boys on later.

"Mother, may I stop now? My legs hurt and the boys are—"

Terra glanced over her shoulder at her. "Oh, Emma, there you are. Have you been having fun?"

"No, I haven't," she replied tartly. "I don't want to do this anymore. Can I please rest for a bit?"

"Oh dear...there hasn't been a single cute boy you put eyes on?"

That wasn't the case for Emma. Most of the boys here were handsome, there was no denying that. It was their attitude or lack of interest that stopped anything more than a fleeting glance, but at the moment, she really was tired and thirsty. Worst of all was the headache from all the shouting and music.

"That's not es..eg...exactly it."

And then her mother laughed. "Just try to have some fun, dear. Soon enough one of those boys will have the courage to talk to you, I promise. Now off you go. Without you, those poor fools will collapse in this heat." Terra went back to her work, handing out another set of whistles to a family.

Emma grumbled and stomped away. Why did she expect her mother to listen? Someone touched her arm then, tearing her away from her thoughts. She was about to turn and scream at the boy 'Get your own fruit!' when she saw that it was Alexander, Loreto and Angelo standing behind her. She blushed fiercely, glad she did not react in the way she wanted.

She sat aside her basket. "Hello Alexander, Loreto, Angelo," and then she dipped and lifted the ends of her dress—earning a whistle from the youngest boys when they saw her bare legs. "It is nice to see you all again." her eyes went to Alexander's and saw that his lip was nearly healed from her father's attack. She frowned at him. "I'm sorry for what happened Alexander." apologizing would never be enough.

He smiled at her crookedly, making her avoid his eyes. Loreto smiled and took her delicate hand, kissing her knuckles. "You know...now that I see you in that dress, I know for sure my love for you is undying." she smiled at him and removed her hand even as he grabbed at his heart dramatically. "Ugh, my heart...I think it just exploded."

She laughed at him. "Perhaps you shouldn't be near me then. How can a man race and fight when his heart no longer beats?"

His eyes widened. "I know a way to start it anew, my dear."

"Loreto," Alex warned, though it fell on deaf ears.

"If you would but follow me to some privacy, I know how you could start it again."

"Loreto!" Alex growled, grabbing him by the back of his dress armor and pulling him back.

To their complete surprise, she giggled at him. She didn't know exactly what he meant, but if he was willing to woo her, she would accept it. A little. "Whatever it is, you will have to marry me first, Lord Gabbiani, and I will expect a family and flowers afterward." of course she was teasing, half of her wanted it, if only to have her womanly status finally. It was Alex's expression that showed the most surprise even as Loreto grabbed at her hands and kissed her fingers delicately again.

"I will gladly marry you and provide you with children. Shall we start now?" he sort of tugged her hand in one direction, giving her a coaxing smile. She started laughing when Angelo shoved him aside.

"As if the princess of Figaro would settle," he snapped, turning to Emma to bow to her. "I will make a better husband for you, princess, and give you whatever you want—day and night."

Alexander took both his brothers by the ears and twisted them just a bit. "Alright you two, that's enough. Get out of here before I snitch your antics to our parents." the boys gave Alex a 'oh, like we care' look and then the young man grinned. "How about the king and queen then?" and then the two boys took off almost as swiftly as their mouths ran.

Alex laughed and then bowed midway to the princess. "Forgive my brothers. Our father tried to teach them respect others and to oppress their rather lecherous sides just a bit, but you know what they say about forcing change on someone."

Emma smiled at him and sat down her basket, noticeably tired. "Oh, that's fine, I don't mind them." She watched as the two boys vanished into a crowd, still shoving at each other and arguing. "Your brothers are very sweet," she whispered. When he looked down at her with an appreciative glance, she blushed. She hadn't considered how that might have been taken. "I—I mean...they treat me nice when n-no one else will."

"That is very much like my brothers," he said through a sigh, letting her words go as he could see she was distressed. "They could charm the skir..." he paused, remembering he was with a lady and that lady was royalty. "...they could charm just about anyone." he fixed with a laugh. "What are you doing this far west anyway? I thought you Figaro women had to be tending to this," he gestured to all the boys. "pathetic lot."

Emma sighed. "I am...was. Will. Umm...I mean I only just took a break."

He chuckled. "I see. You shouldn't do this if you don't want to you. Damn all these fools if they say otherwise."

If only it were that easy, she thought. "I thought you al-already passed your Rites?"

He paused, leaned down and took a piece of fruit from the basket. It was a juicy orange. As he peeled the skin away he said, "I have. I didn't compete in some ridiculous game like this though. I simply grew up."

"I don't understand?"

"Oh," he ripped away a piece of the orange and chewed it for a moment, thinking. "I forgot the culture of Maranda doesn't make it across oceans." he discarded the remaining bits of the orange. "In Maranda men do not have to battle giant insects or fight each other with swords or other weapons. When we are fourteen, we are men. Unless we act like children still...then people will tell you to act your age. It is really hard to define, I suppose."

Curiously, Emma thought on it. It did seem rather silly, but saying so in Figaro, especially in front of other Figarans, would be social suicide. "So...you don't do anything? You just wake up and you're a man?"

He laughed. "You make it sound...well...inferior. Figaro's methods are very backwards in my opinion. For being led by people who brought such amazing change, they sure do allow it to slip further back in time. I wouldn't put it pass Figarans to still cut away a thief's hand." He sounded very annoyed.

She gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean it like that, I'm just..."

"You shouldn't need to apologize, I didn't mean anything by it either. It is actually understandable if you find it inferior. In a way, it is, but that doesn't mean it isn't right, right?" she just stared at him. "I'm sorry princess. I must not be making much sense. I am just...what's the word? Irritated? Yes, irritated. I'm irritated by this Race of Men. I just find this all—" he pointed to the men ahead, standing beside a weapon rack. "—to be so foreign and so unnecessary. I don't mean to upset you or any other native, really."

Emma could hear the honesty in his words and smiled. "It is fine, really. I don't like the Rites either."

"I see," there was something in how he said it that made Emma falter. She couldn't quite place it. "In that case, may I ask why you are tending to the men?"

She wanted to tell that she was being forced as per the rules of her grounding but decided against it. The last she wanted was to look like a child even further. "It is my duty to be here." she answered and he noticed just how she punctuated words. It was so...strange. Did people on Thamasa sound like this? He tried to recall what he could of Relm and Gau's voices, but he came up empty on the recognition.

"Ah, yes, being the princess of these people must mean catering to their beliefs. I forgot." she leaned down to lift the basket, struggling, even as he tried to think of something to say to get her to talk. Anything at all. He wanted to hear her voice again, just once more if anything. "Do you want me to carry that?"

For a moment it looked like she had no idea what he was talking about until she looked down at the basket and smiled. "I would be grateful, Alexander, but I'm not allowed to hand the basket over until I'm..." she paused, causing Alex to ask if she were alright. She never thought about Alexander or any of his brothers to Claim her. Would he? "I'm fine, I was just thinking...would you...I mean, may I ask...if you would, um...C-Claim me?"

"You want me to Claim you?" he asked quickly, surprised.

"If that is fine with you," she mumbled weakly, avoiding his eyes.

Claiming? Does she even know what that is? He wondered, watching her wring her hands together. She had to, right, to know enough to be asked to be Claimed? He knew the right thing was to decline her request, especially since her father would be furious, but when did he ever learn to do the right thing? He smiled and took the basket from her hands. "I'd love to Claim you, princess."

"Thank you so much Alexander." she dipped her dress to him.

"No need to thank me, princess, and please...call me Alex."

"Alex?" she asked hesitantly, very much unsure. Slowly a smile crept across her face, replacing the unease and uncertainty with genuine surprise and happiness. "Okay...thank you Alex."

He took her tiny hand then and gestured away from the crowds, toward a western strip of forestry. "How about we find someplace to sit and rest? Somewhere out of this damnable heat and sun."

"Alright, but I should tell my mother first—"

"Oh, no need, you are in safe hands with me princess." he tugged her ahead toward the forest, trying his hardest not to let his grin race across his face. He had no reason to believe this day, of all days, would be a good one.

---

09/10/2014

Alright! I finished the remake of this chapter. I feel like the flesh of Alexander and Emma is finally being brought to a level that feels real, or as close to it as possible. If you liked the chapter, great! If you liked it and wanted to comment, that's even better. If you have any critiques or the like, feel free to PM them etc etc. All I ask is that you do it kindly.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

6/29/2017

It has come to my attention, thanks to a reminder from a friend, that several of the first few chapters of my remake have not been updated! THE HORROR! So much content I had written for you guys that never "stuck" during the update process. I do not know what happened, but I have, as of today, fixed it. It should jump up nearly 8,000 words in content between Alexander and Emma's POVs. If you still don't see a change, please message me!

If you have noticed them and have questions or are wondering what some of the clothes designs look like, here are examples for Emma. Her hair mentioned with the "nets" is inspired by real Italian hairstyles. To see what it looks like, open up ANY image on Imgur and change the number string from whatever it is to this: kCzzSSd DOT jpeg. That will show the hairstyle. To see what her clothes are? Well, that's a bit tougher. Google 13-4th century dresses and gowns, and you might get a better picture of it. :P

Anyways, please enjoy the additional content! Thank you! :)