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.

3. Away from the Sun

Notes; Important things will be discussed at the end of the chapter, so please, read them. :)

Away from the Sun

Alexander was not entirely why the tiny and infuriating princess of Figaro had become such a charm and irritant to him, but the question was quickly becoming irrelevant the longer he enjoyed her company. And although she had quite the temper (and surprisingly quick reflexes at times, he learned), she was an exceptionally quiet and gentle girl, whom couldn't even look him in the eyes for longer than a few seconds—and even that looked to be of great discomfort for her. And he found that the more he learned of her, her strangeness only grew, and with it his curiosity.

He wondered if that curiosity stemmed from getting her to talk to him—in that challenge of a quiet girl—or if her little escapade in South Figaro had humored him, or perhaps it was more simple than that. Perhaps she was just so different to what he was accustomed, that it seemed a challenge to him. Afterall, the girls he was used to chasing were usually considerably taller and talked his ears off about all sorts of typical social norms for them, such as clothing, balls, marriage and silly rumors and gossip. But this girl... she functioned in an entirely different way, it seemed. She spoke very quietly and deliberately, and only said as much as she could get away with saying. Simple answers constructed for complex questions, which was something he knew immediately as a sign of someone trying to get out of a conversation quickly. Of course, in his experience, it was usually because that person was not interested, but for Emma it seemed more that she was afraid to linger for too long.

And whenever she did speak at length—which, granted, had only happened a few times—there were no girlish giggles over gossip and no fawning over the latest trend in clothing, only strangely cute observations of subjects like geography, cartography and history, and even mathematics. Of course he was quite certain she had worries of typical girls, but it was not ever her main focus. She was an unusual thing, not only for one her age, but especially so for girls. It was intriguing, and also very charming.

All of that was at least manageable for him though. He could listen to her for hours, but being near her enough to touch her, was spiraling him out of control. She smelled of honey, and he very much wanted to take her hand and pull her into an embrace, to smother himself in that soft scent. It took him by surprise. He was not used to being so...so...skittish. It didn't help that he held her hand to guide her as they walked, but he couldn't find a part of him to dare to let it go.

How had such a beautiful gem gone unnoticed for so long? Where were the lines of crazed boys seeking her hand? He looked into her beautifully strange mismatched eyes and felt his chest tighten. He never wanted to look away, and every part of him wanted to stop her right there and ask her for a kiss. To kiss here there beneath the shade of the trees and in the gentle breeze, there in the grass below. To see what those lips might taste like; honey or vanilla?

It was the only thing he did not particularly like her about her, he found. The way she made him so nervous, so boyish. He never felt that way before, not truly, and it was uncomfortable that she was making him feel it.

Emma let go of his hand then to kneel at a patch of wild flowers, so that she could pick through them. She did it with such gentleness that it made his chest ache.

Who are you, princess? He thought, watching that little smile creep on her face as she dug through the flowers for any that hit her unvoiced criteria. I would gladly get knocked to my ass by your father again, if it meant I could look at those eyes longer...

She sat straight and turned those mismatched eyes to him and then quickly averted her gaze, face turning red. She was embarrassed. It took him a second to realize that she caught him staring, and laughed. He forgot she was rather shy. She stood back up, and smoothed out her dress at the thighs and knees, her brows pinched a little in annoyance at the task. He forced himself to look away, because he kept thinking how cute she looked in that little yellow sun-dress, and if he looked any longer, he would certainly ask her if he could kiss her. And be rejected. Again.

What is wrong with me...! You act like you have never kissed a girl before! Pull it together, Alexander old boy, don't go crazy over just the thought of kissing her!

"What?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes down as she stuffed the flowers she collected delicately into her basket.

He decided to tease her, wanting so badly to see how she might react to it, and any other situation. "I'm just enjoying this, that's all."

She faced him reluctantly, brows furrowed. "Enjoying what?"

He smiled. "Just how cute you are." And there it was, the reaction, though not exactly what he thought it would be. Her cheeks burned red and she nervously looked back down at her basket. She almost looked afraid. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Is this a...a prank?" she asked, still looking at the basket, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Is what a prank?" there was no way she thought he was... "Do you mean what I said?" her cute little face bunched a little, and he guessed what that meant. "No, Emma, of course it isn't. I would never do something so cruel. Not to you, and not to anyone else."

"Okay..." She did not sound like she believed him, but he understood at least as much not to press her on something that she very clearly was self-conscious about, let alone to do it if others had 'pranked' her before on it.

Alexander felt stupid for saying it now, and mean. What sort of experiences left her like this? You are cute, and far too pretty, he thought as they began to walk again, acutely aware of the fact that they were not holding hands anymore. That he had made her uncomfortable, at least in some way. You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen...it's trouble. When he looked at her, it was like standing in the sunlight. And he loved it.

The way her lips were pale and a little goofy looking, especially when she smiled, almost like they were a little lopsided. The way her mismatched eyes caught the light, and even the dark circles beneath them. The way her face bunched up whenever she was annoyed or mad or confused, and how her nose would get all scrunched up. He even liked the way there was a gap in her front teeth. He thought that was cute. Very cute. Her ears, a source of rumors and hurtful jokes for her from so many, were also cute to him. They were a bit longer than most people's, and just pointed enough that people noticed it, but he liked the way they always seemed to be poking out of her hair.

And her hair. Her beautiful hair! It looked so gently tousled every time he saw her, and he loved that even when she tied it back in a loose pony tail or into a plait, parts of it would still linger about her face. In little tousled tendrils down her ears and temples, or framing her forehead in little bangs. Her hair...it drived him crazy. He wanted to run his hands through it so bad it brought pain to his chest thinking about it. And it didn't help at all whenever he caught sight of her reaching up subconciously to brush loose hair behind her ears or puff it out of her eyes.

She had qwuickly, and thoroughly, become a very distracting presence.

He knew it would not do to have her on his brain so much, so he tried to clear it. By thinking of other things, chiefly of duties he had to do back at home or at work. Otherwise, his thoughts would run rampant on kissing her. He hadn't noticed he was whispering aloud, not until she peaked at him curiously. The sound of her voice tore him from his thoughts immediately, and he was thankful. He didn't want to her to feel as if he were ignoring her.

"What did you say?" he asked, smiling softly, embarrassed a little. It was then that he noticed she was twisting a few twigs together to fashion a prayer band, a religious object known most frequently in Thamasa and Figaro regions.

"I...I asked what you w-were saying."

Ah. So she heard him? "I was just reminding myself of what I need to do when I get back home, or to work." and then he added, "I'm forgetful, so I've got to remind myself from time to time." he hoped she believed that lie.

"Ohhh," she mumbled, still working deftly on that prayer band as they walked. "Is it a lot of work?"

He laughed. "It would depend on who you would ask. My mother would probably say something about me working too hard and my father would probably say I'm lazy..." he said, knowing he was not answering her question the way she had intended. Of all the times he had charmed women, with half-hearted attention to their talking, it was this moment he truly desired to hear someone's voice as much as possible. And he thought if he purposely misunderstood the question, he could get her to speak more.

She paused mid-step and he stopped to look at her. Her brows were furrowed a little bit. "Well...what do you think?" she asked him quietly.

What do I think? He looked into her eyes. I want you, is what I think. "I work as much as I can, and not enough to what I would like." and without looking back, he began walking again, wondering what could drive her interest so much in his work. After a few seconds, he could hear the sound of her sandals moving against rock and grass again.

"What k-kind of work is it?" she asked him, stammering, as she struggled to keep up to his pace. He slowed to match her and realized that her curiosity was entirely stemming from curiosity in his actual work, and was not some under hand game to learn more about him. As any other girl might have done to him, not that he had ever minded it before.

You are a curious thing, he thought. "I do all sorts of things, really. If the day is slow, I might be cleaning hardware free of grease and muck. If my father needs specific help, I might be helping fit pipes or assembling engines and fluid tubes, or fixing wings. There are some days that I help construct ships, be they of air or water."

That had caught her excitement easily. "You help m-make airships and ships?" she sounded so excited that he could not help but chuckle. "Do you make the S-Class f-f-frigates, too? The kind that the navy employs?"

He was a little startled by the depth of her knowledge and glanced at her. How do you know these things? "Aye, sometimes I help with the frigates, but mostly I help with merchant ships and civilian ships when it concerns water. Our real trade though is aerial."

"That's amazing," she mumbled, awed truly. She was a little closer to him now, just a step away to his left. The band she had been making was finished now, though bare of the traditional flowers or strings they typically might be adorned with. "Have—have you ever flown or sailed one?"

"I have flown airships more than I have ever sailed ships, but that is not to say I am not skilled in the later." he hesitated and then looked at her. She was distracted by a piece of twig that had popped out of place to notice that he was staring. Her tongue poked a little bit out of the corner of her mouth as she worked deftly with the twig. "How about you then, princess? Have you ever flown?"

She looked at him with a frown, the twig finally back in its rightful place. "No."

"Why?"

"Mother and father say it is too dangerous for me." and then she caught sight of a bush of pretty blue flowers and excitedly hurried over to it. Alexander followed.

"So you have only ever sailed?" she nodded, digging through the flowers. "You are missing quite a treat then, princess. To fly the skies...it is an indescribable sensation." Emma stuffed the stems of the flowers she picked through the spaces between the twigs, starting the decoration of the band. "I could take you flying someday, if you would like." We could be alone, you and I.

She smiled at him with such a warm smile he couldn't help but return it with one of his own. "Thank you Alexander, that would be amazing, but m-mother and father would never allow it."

"I do not recall saying we should ask them," he said, making her giggle. "If it would please you, I would convince them rather than steal you away." she blushed at that, and lowered her eyes. He liked that so much, just how lovely that blushing shade was on her. He caught sight of the band then, and was very astonished she had made it so quickly. "You made that thing very quickly. I am impressed." confused by his words, her brows furrowed. He gestured to the band and her blush deepened.

"Oh," she lifted it up into the sunlight escaping through the branches above. She adjusted a few things. "I make them a lot." she chewed her lip, eyes lost in thought. "I...I read once that the gods approve of these gestures and that..." she let her words fall there. To Alex, it sounded like she was afraid to continue. Was she afraid to talk of her faith around him? Or was there something else?

Please, do not ever feel unable to voice yourself in front of me, he thought. "I am not a very religious fellow," he admitted after a moment in the silence, which caused her to look at him with wide eyes. He could tell she was not accustomed to meeting faithless people. He couldn't imagine she had experience with faithless folk in Thamasa either, where there seemed to be a chapel in every turn in villages, cities and of course the capitol. "I am sorry...is that taboo here, to reject the gods?"

She hesitated, giving him such a look he couldn't rightly place it. "Well...no...but..." she looked at him quizzically. "Do you r-really not believe in the gods?"

She was curious, or worried. "Let me just say that I rest my faith in more...corporeal things." if she caught his entire meaning, she did not say anything. She was quiet for a moment, and then she smiled and held the band out to him. He took it hesitantly, confused. "What is this for?"

"It's corporeal," she answered him shyly. "So you can put your faith in it." He glanced down at the reef knot of twig and flowers in his hands. He did not have the heart to tell her he simply did not believe in gods, or some powerful spirit unseen to the eye, to squash her faith. It was part of her beauty, her faith, and no matter how he disagreed with it he would not have her any other way.

He smiled and looked at her. "Thank you, Emma." he pushed his hand through the hole in the center, so it dangled off his wrist. "I will be sure to hang it up when I get back home."

Emma only offered him a small, unsure smile before they continued on, stopping at each and every flower they came across so she could add them to her growing collection within her basket. He watched her attentively. How could someone be so strange, and yet so fascinating? He knew there was something completely different about this girl, but he could not place it. Some secret deep within her. Everything about her was strange, new, unique.

It felt years ago when he first saw her at the annual dinner. Although she was still rather pudgy, she had grown in remarkable ways in just months. It was subtle, but pieces of her parents were starting to appear in her; the famous jawline on her father's side; her mother's little nose and delicate chin and down-turned lips, and those eyes. Those eerily beautiful eyes of mismatched rarity, where the pale lilac eye gave way to the center to the blue just faintly and the blue eye she inherited from her father so dark it sometimes appeared black in the dark.

He knew that she was not the kind of beautiful that seemed to fall easily on the shoulders of a lot of women—women like Celes or Cadence, or Terra—but she was exceptional in her own ways. And that was all that mattered to him.

When her eyes turned to him suddenly, expectantly, he realized she had been talking to him again. He paused for a moment, trying to remember what she had said but failed. He offered her an apologetic look. "I'm terribly sorry, princess, but could you repeat what you said? I didn't quite catch it."

Her smile never faltered, oblivious to why he had not been paying attention. "I asked where we are going."

"Ah, yes, of course," he laughed and pointed ahead. "Further ahead, there is a quant hill we can watch the race from. I also figured it would be best if I had gotten you away from the sun, or your mother might flay me alive, or your father put a noose to me."

She giggled a little at his remarks, and then turned her curious eyes ahead of them, toward the direction he had gestured to. "Is it very far?"

If he didn't know any better, she was suspicious of him. He chuckled at his paranoia. Emma, a suspicious sort? How foolish was he. She was so far from the sort. A sweet, trusting girl. Too trusting to him, even. She is just curious, he told himself, amused. "Well," he began. "It isn't too far, if we keep a good pace, but it is far enough that I must not allow you to out pace yourself."

"I will be okay," she insisted, very disappointed.

He laughed. "And I aim to keep it that way, or else risk your father's manic tendencies again."

She frowned at that. "I'm sorry..."

"No matter, my lovely princess," she became embarrassed yet again. "I have faced worse, and from worse. Your father was worried, and it is for that reason I will not hold it against him. It was quite stupid of me to step between a worried man and his daughter anyhow." he gently elbowed her, to lighten the mood further. "It was of the greatest pleasure to have bumped into you as I was headed this way, bruised as I am or not. It is the best way I see spending this day, beside you." He loved it when she blushed, especially with the way it burned across her cheeks and nose so brightly. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

"If...if you were heading here alone..." he looked at her. "You...you shouldn't have invited me."

Oh my dear beautiful girl, he thought devilishly. I never intended anything but spending the day with you, even before I claimed you. "And why would I do that? It would spoil a perfectly good day. Regardless, a spot just for you is nice, but when you share it with another, it just becomes even more special."

Her brows dipped. "...more special? How so?"

"Why, you love flowers, do you not?" she nodded. "And I know that. If I can bring someone who can cherish the spot as much as I do, then it is the only way to go."

"There are flowers?" she asked quietly, but he could tell she was trying very hard to keep her excitement down. He chuckled. That was all she really heard, not at all his attempts at wooing her with his fancy words. He nodded. "What species are they? Can...may we see them?"

He gestured ahead of them. "I wouldn't dream of anything else, princess." he reached for the basket in her hands. "Let me." shyly, she handed it over and crossed one arm over her chest to hold the other, nervous. "I cannot in good faith have a beautiful girl carry something like this, can I?" before she could answer him, he nudged his head forward. "Come, let us go before the day tires."

They went onward quietly.

Emma followed closely behind him, as if afraid to get any closer. Alexander kept worriedly glancing back at her, to be sure she was still following. Her face was getting noticeably paler and paler the further they went. He wasn't sure what the issue was until later, as they began to ascend the hill to the secret spot. He heard a noise and turned sharply around. She had slid down the hill and landed on her elbows. He gasped and sat the basket down where he was to hurry down to her, panicked.

"Damn!" he hissed, skidding to a stop beside her as she lifted herself back up. "Are you okay?" he took her arm and helped her up. "Are you?" She nodded, and that's when he noticed how pale she had gotten, how exhausted and sickly she appeared. Her condition had been something of gossip, and Cadence had mentioned it quite a few times, but Alexander never would have guessed they were being serious rather than exaggerative. How stupid was he, to have not paid attention to her condition? "You aren't okay, Emma...look at you." her breathing was shallow, sluggish, and she trembled just enough for him to notice. He felt so ashamed!

"I'm...okay," she said between careful breaths. "I'm okay."

"No you aren't," he said, hand still tight around her arm, to steady her. "Please, give me your hand Emma and I will help you up the hill."

"I don't need help," she insisted, shrugging out of his hands.

It was clear the subject was a sore one for her, and he did not blame her one bit. He had to tread carefully from here, so that he could convince her to accept help. "You look exhausted, Emma. I know the day has been tiring for you, it would tire anyone with what you had to do, so please.." he held his hand out. "Let me help you."

She hesitated and then accepted his hand, allowing him to carefully lift her to her feet and maneuver her to flatter ground. This time she didn't let his hand go until they reached the top, where the ground rolled out into a slightly bumpy view until it dropped out of view ahead of them. To their far right the hill dropped off pretty steep back towards the racing area.

When Emma saw the festivals ongoing below them her eyes widened. The mirth in them was unreal to Alex. It made her glow like the sun. She hurried over to the edge, stopping about four feet away, and watched the people of Figaro hurrying about their tasks. Suddenly worried by her closeness to a fatal fall, he sprung over and gently guided her further away. "You can see the tourney!" she said excitedly, almost on the verge of a shout. He nodded, still guiding her away. "And—and you can see the..." she fumbled over her own words for a second before letting her sentence die off.

Alexander frowned. She wasn't looking at him now and her hand dropped back to her side even as she stopped trying to finish her sentence. To him, it sounded like she had forgotten what she was going to say and if that was the case, he didn't want to pry and hurt her unnecessarily. However, all of the sudden, she said what she wanted a little loudly, as if the word rushed right back. "The Artisan Square!"

He smiled, trying to hold back his laughter. "If you go a bit further down the face of the cliff, toward the east, you can even see the jousting stages and the musical square."

She made a silent gasp, unbelieving, but then turned to him. "When did you find this place?"

He was rather thrown by the question, and unsure of how to respond, or if he should, he nervously laughed. He wasn't about to inform her that he found this spot when he was around her age, and have used it to seduce girls. Though it was not why he brought her here, he was certain that if she knew, she'd spring up in protest and run off. And he just didn't want to lose her just yet.

"I found it a few years ago, when I was around your age actually." her eyes were unbelievably distracting. He looked away. "It became a place to relax for me...special. It is a lot like how your oasis is special to you, I suppose. A place just for me."

She seemed to have understood that perfectly, and looked ashamed. She ducked her eyes. "Oh...why—why am I here if—if this is your place?"

"Well," he said, smiling. "As I said earlier, a special place can become more than if you share it with someone special. I want you to be part of it." he felt such pride when he flustered her, because he knew despite the rumors then, that this girl was not some alien or monster, that she had all of the same feelings any other girl might, or the fears and reactions. She just conveyed them differently, or had trouble with them. "It gets so very lonely here...you can stay, if you don't mind of course."

His charm worked again. She looked away, shyly, and smiled a little. "I...I would like that."

She began to walk to a clearer spot to sit when Alexander spoke, "There isn't any other I would love to share my place with, or my time." he smiled charmingly when his words made her suddenly stumble over her own feet. That klutzy nature of hers was going to be something he very much enjoyed. He sat down across from her and sat the basket in front of them. He tried not to notice when she scooted a few inches away. She was not comfortable with the closeness, that much was very clear. He knew it would not do at all to push her beyond her boundaries, nor did he wish to, and instead watched her as she turned her eyes to the blue sky above them.

The silence went on for so long it was becoming very comfortable for him, and yet she sat there, watching the clouds. It was clear the quiet did everything but bother her. She was so peculiar. He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky too. "You do not talk very much, do you?" he looked at her again.

She had froze completely, and then offered an apology and then stammered, "I'm...I'm not use t-to this..."

"Please Emma, you do not need to apologize to me," he said, sitting up. "I understand if you are not comfortable, if the silence suits you better right now. I can wait until you are comfortable, and I will be here even if you never find it comfortable."

"You..." she was looking at him, confused. "You aren't going to make fun of me?"

"Make fun of you?" he repeated, confusedd. "What would I make fun of you for?"

"S-s-stuttering," she mumbled.

"I would never do something so cruel," he said, letting a bit of his annoyance come out. Not at her, but because someone had made her feel this way. "Others have treated you that way before, haven't they?" she shrugged. "I bet those people included your useless brothers, too. And those urchins at the academy."

Emma looked at him. "Please don't be m-m-mean to my brothers..."

Alexander frowned. "Even when they tease you for something like this?" and the look in her eyes said it all. No matter what they did to her, or said to her, she would love them no matter what. "You're too kind for your own good, you know that?"

"...I'm really not."

"You are," he insisted. "You sit here and chide me for insulting your brothers, even when they have teased you so cruelly. That's the mark of a good person Emma...a really good person. Why? You should be lashing out at them any chance you get. Most would, at least."

She shook her head softly, twisting the ends of her dress around. He could see the tears building in her eyes. "It's okay...I'm used to it anyway."

"You shouldn't have to be used to something so cruel," Alex insisted. "And your brothers especially should never treat you so cruelly, even if they mean it as a joke. They are supposed to protect you from the bullies, not become them."

"W-well some—sometimes they do," she argued weakly. "And besides, they...they said they don't mean any harm."

"If they meant no harm, you wouldn't have ever felt harm from them," he told her, and then, wanting her to know she didn't have to hide away or to avoid speaking due to her stuttering, added, "I happen to enjoy the way you speak."

She looked at him sharply, eyes wide. "What?"

Alexander sat up. "I said that I happen to like the way you speak. "she continued to stare, eyes wide. He laughed. "What? Is it so wrong that I like your stuttering, or even when you get nervous and trip over your words? I think it's cute."

She stared for a moment and then looked toward the Antlion Ceremony area next. This time, she was not embarrassed. She looked sad again. "...you would be the first."

And there was no doubt that moment that she did not believe him, that the idea that someone could cherish something about her was humorous. It was going to take a lot more from him to ease her from her discomfort and gain her trust, more than just empty words, he was sure.

She is so reserved, he thought, watching her. Who could look at her and encourage this? When her smile is so bright, when her eyes are so beautiful? When she's so kind? He looked away. It could be possible she was acting this way just towards him. A lot of girls did like to play ignorant to advances, he noticed, whenever they really didn't want to engage or were flirting. That was very rare, though. I will show her that people can care about her.

"Alright then," he reached into the basket and took an orange. When she looked at him, he tossed the fruit at her. She barely caught it. "Let us get down to business, shall we?" she looked from the orange to him with a little smile on that showed she was trying not to laugh. "What?" he laughed. "Do not tell me you do not like oranges."

"Th-that's not it," she mumbled. "What did—did you mean by 'business'?"

"Talking of course...well mostly." he peeled the skin away from the orange and then ripped the orange into four pieces. "How about we make it a game, hm? So it is fair?"

She blinked at him, confused. "A game?"

"Yes, a game, say like what they do in some taverns in Albrook?" when she stared at him, confused, he laughed. He forgot the girl he was speaking to. "Never mind that then...the game will be simple. Each person will ask a question. If they get an answer to that question, the next person asks. However, if the person who is asked that question skips it, they have to eat an orange whole."

She chewed her bottom lip, considering it. That was enough for him. If she had just turned it down immediately, it meant she wasn't interested or she was trying to get rid of him. "Questions?" she finally asked.

"Questions." he repeated with a smile.

"...why oranges?"

He smiled. "Why not oranges?"

She thought on it for a moment, and then sighed. "Okay, but—but nothing..."

"Private or overtly girly?" she nodded shyly. He ate a few berries out of the basket and then said, "It is a deal, then. Who shall go first though?" he held out a few berries for her, which she took delicately. "Ah, we will follow the gentleman's code and let ladies go first."

"Me?"

"Why of course, who else? Regardless, I have my neck to worry about, what with me and mine being sworn to my lord's cause." Emma giggled at him, and he joined in with a little laugh of his own. "Alright then, ask away dear princess."

She rolled the orange around in her hands absent mindedly as she thought, eyes scanning the horizon as if they held the questions for her. And then her eyes seemed to glow, and she focused them on something in particular in the distance. Alexander knew she had thought of one. "Do you still attend an academy?"

He was a little disappointed in her question, but would never show her that. Not if it meant that he could get her to smile. "No, I am not. I graduated fairly early." he hesitated in going any further with his answer. For some reason he felt this uncontrollable urge not to tell her he was just a few years older than her, that in many countries he was still considered a boy despite his age. So he lied. "It was too important to me, so I tend to forget my time at Miran a lot more than most would."

Curiosity burned in her eyes. "Oh...well how old are you?"

He laughed, a little nervous. So he was right after all. She was gauging his age. "Now, dear princess, that is two questions." she blushed fiercely. She didn't have to know he wasn't a man yet, barely out of his teens, barely older than her. Women wanted older, sexy men, not boys.

"Oh," she frowned and he couldn't figure out why. "Your turn."

Alexander rubbed his hands together, purposely putting a devilish expression on to make her laugh, and then exclaimed. "Ah, I have the perfect starter question." she waited. "When is your name day?"

She hesitated. "Arut t-twelfth..."

"And what year?" the princess had been a thing of wonderment all his life, from every sort of person he could find, they had something to say about her. Something to suggest, to wonder about and gossip over. The only thing most people could agree on was that no one really knew anything about her. Some even wondered if she had survived birth, and if the king and queen had been faking the girl's life to avoid announcing it or dealing with it. He wanted to know as much as he could about her though, discern the truth from the gossip, but it was clear it would be difficult as she looked away, her brows furrowed and a frown on her face. "Emma?"

"You want to know m-m-my age...?" she asked, stammering.

She looked so frightened. He couldn't understand it at all. "I must admit, I would like to know, but primarily I was just curious about your name day. Was I prying?"

"N-no, I just...I just..." she was hesitating again, and he could see the turmoil in her expression clear as day. What could be so bad that she did not want to discuss her own age? He regretted asking it so much. "...it is...s-s-seven hundred f-forty-four AM."

That had shocked him completely. This intelligent, gentle soul was only thirteen? He stared at her, surprised. "You are only thirteen?" he asked, astonished. She would not meet his eyes. I thought she was just a year or so younger than me, with that intelligence! Gods...thirteen? He sighed, relieved. It's only a three year difference, at least. "Alright...your turn, princess." he hoped shifting from the subject quickly would ease her from her discomfort.

"Um..." she looked down at the fruit. "...what—what is your favorite genre in literature?"

Is that truly all you deserve to ask me? He wondered. "I would say it would be action adventure. Yours?"

She giggled. "This isn't—isn't much of a g-game if the questions are repeated."

He started to laugh and then dropped to his back into the cool grass. "I suppose you are right..."

"I l-like drama and the epic romances," she answered quickly and, realizing something he couldn't pinpoint, rushed out with, "I mean—I mean...I just...I just like how..."

She was nervous again, afraid she erred. "I understand Emma," he turned his head toward her. "I read the them, too. Sometimes you just want to read a story with a happy ending...there's nothing wrong with that."

She smiled at him, brightly. "You do?"

"Aye, of course."

Her eyes sparkled with what he could only describe as acceptance. "I l-like them for the happy endings, too."

He felt such pity for her then, knowing why she craved those endings so dearly. Life has not been fair to you, he thought. You deserve the adoration of the world and yet you starve even for your parents' attention. What a lonely creature you are, Emma Figaro. "We are all creatures of habit, Emma," he told her. "Who does not desire a happy life, an end to look forward to?" she smiled at him a little, grateful for his understanding. "Well," he add, trying to make her laugh. "I do find the adult romances to be a lot more entertaining. It takes a good age to read that, though." he chuckled but stopped when she turned away, clearly upset. He frowned. "What did I say wrong?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't want to talk about anything 'adult'!"

"What?" he laughed. "What do you mean?"

"Y-you said it was a-adult."

"Aye, I did..."

"My parents said I am not allowed to hear anything adult until I'm older..." she mumbled. "It's a-annoying because everyone brings it up but then they say i can't hear it..."

"What do you mean you aren't allowed to..." he stopped himself, realizing what she had meant.

Everything made sense to him then, by just how embarrassed she got over even innocent things. She's not been told...explained... he couldn't even find the words. He and his brothers had been told when they turned ten about the "birds and the bees", though he supposed that was a bit too young to many parents. And until just now, he had completely forgotten the culture within Figaro and Thamasa, which did not educate the women of society about "barbaric and scruff" things until they were wed. He had spent so much time in the free states of Albrook and Maranda it erased from his mind entirely.

He wanted to bring it up to her, but he knew deep down it was not his place to step in for her parents and tell her something they very clearly had reasons of not sharing. It felt wrong though. "I'm sorry," he offered after a moment, quietly. "I...I forgot myself."

She looked at him then, slowly. "It is okay..." and then she rolled the orange around again and added, hesitantly, "What...what are you going to ask?"

He smiled. At least she wasn't too upset. But he had to prod how far this went, something in him just would not let it go. "Alright...feel free to pass this one up."

"O-Okay..."

"When was the first time you were courted?" she froze and her complexion drained completely. "Emma? Are you okay? Should I get you something to drink, or eat?"

"I—I—I..." she started to wring her hands together, nervously. "I w-would like to sk-skip please."

It would not matter now if she answered or not. She had never been courted before, and he knew immediately by extension that there was no way she had ever experienced the embrace of a crush, of a first kiss, or anything like that. He could not let her know he knew though. It had to be something she told him, that she felt ready to share. "I see," he mumbled, watching as tears were held stubbornly back in her eyes. "Emma...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. It was none of my business."

She closed her eyes and turned her head away. "I h-haven't..." her voice was soft. He thought he had imagined it.

"I'm sorry?" he said. "What did you say?"

"I s-said I haven't," she mumbled.

"There hasn't been a single boy?" when she tried to hide her tears, he felt relief flood through him, and yet pity. The good was that he had no one to compare too, which meant he could be the best she has ever known or will ever know. The bad was that no one had ever cared to court her, to chase her, as she deserved. How could a girl such as her, so open and beautiful of heart, go unnoticed? What boy, what man, could look at her and not see all that Alexander could? The sweet disposition, the sharp wit, the careful eyes, the brittle temper...that sweet smile? It felt so...unreal.

Now he understood why she could feel so down about herself, why she could believe so little of herself, or that she could be seen as beautiful in another's eyes, someone to care about. Because on top of all the teasing and bullying and vile rumors he was certain she heard some of, no one had ever shown her interest before. There was only pain and self-conciousness. It pissed him off. He wanted to make her tears stop, to ease that pain from her heart.

"Well then, damn them all, I say," he said, with more anger than he had intended to inject into his words. Emma had jumped at his sudden tone, and looked at him with confusion. "I do not understand how anyone could walk by you without stopping to admire you, to tell you of all your charms. I do not understand it, but I can promise you this right now; you are beautiful and smart and sweet, and I promise that one day, in time, if you are patient...it will change. There will come a man who will take your heart and never let go of it. And you would deserve it all and more."

She rubbed her eyes and nose with her hand, sniffling, and then reached over to hug him. It startled him, but unsure of what to do, he just sat there. "T-t-thank you, Alexander." she mumbled. "I appe...apresh...appreciate your k-kindness."

He shifted out of her embrace and brushed hair out of her face. "I meant what I said Emma, with all my heart." He let his hand linger on her cheek for a moment before clearing his throat and leaning away entirely. "Oh, right...I almost forgot." Her brows perked up, curious. "It is your turn now, and feel free to ask me whatever you wish. I'm in need of a good embarrassing question as pay back."

Instead of immediately talking, Emma turned her eyes away from him and toward the horizon, watching the specks of people below continue about their celebration and all of its joys. There was a long silence between them, and it was obvious to Alexander that the look in her eyes was one of determination, of searching. "...do you t-think about your future?" she turned her gaze to him at last, her mismatched eyes stricken anew with tears.

It drew him so far out of his wits, he fumbled over his words like an idiot, "I...I..."

"What about of where you m-might be, or who you w-will become?"

"Emma, I don't know, I just..." he looked into those lonely eyes and felt a chill of pain wash over him. She's lonely and afraid, but of what? Do her parents even know of her pains? Are they trying to help her? He felt so frustrated. What can I do? "Of course I think about it. I think everyone does, and if they say they do not, they are lying. I try my hardest not to though..." the future terrifies me, he thought. "If you let it hold every thought of yours though, it will drive you mad." he wanted to reach for her hand, to hold her, but knew it was inappropriate. "What worries you so much, Emma?"

"I have no place," she admitted, on the verge of a sob. "I go t-to worship and I pray to them for something I know I will n-never get." she knuckled at her tears, angrily. "I wake up every day knowing..."

"Knowing what?" Emma shook her head. He reached for her hand this time, and squeezed it. "No, please...do not bottle it up, Emma. Please, speak to me..."

"Why?" she asked him, and to him it sounded as if she were angry with him. "There's n-nothing for me. I...I accepted it."

"That is simply not true," he moved his hand up to her shoulder. "You will have a future, Emma, one that will be envied by all. You will have everything you ever wanted, and you will burn brighter than any star ever could. I know it."

Suddenly she ripped away from his touch and glared at him. "Why are you b-b-being so nice to me Alexander?" he was so stunned by her change of tone, that he was at a loss for words. "Why?" she prodded. "I have n-n-n-nothing to give and—and I don't w-want to be tr-tricked or hurt anymore!" and like a dam breaking, her emotions soared. She drew her legs up to her chest and hid her face against her knees, sobbing.

"I would never hurt you," he said quietly. "I am...I am being nice to you because I like you Emma. I want to be your friend...that is only thing I want from you, your friendship." when she did not settle down, he took her hand again, gentler than before, and then pulled her into a hug. "I cannot stand to see your pretty eyes tear stricken," he pressed his forehead against her hair, taking in the smell of her, and closed his eyes. "Please Emma, stop those tears...please."

After a moment she tugged away from him, though not rudely, and wiped her eyes dry as the announcement bugle blew in the distance. "I'm...I'm sorry, I just..."

"It is fine Emma, really."

She wiped her eyes once more and then looked ahead to watch the people, who were close enough now that they were at the start of the track just below the hill. "Thank you...for being so kind to me." Her attention was on the activities below them now so completely, but there were still a few tears in her eyes, as she rolled the orange around absentmindedly.

He smiled, warily. How was it fair for the world to put this girl before him, this little bubble of spectacular expression, and not allow him to take her into his arms and kiss her? He knew he wanted her, more than he wanted any other in his life. It was more than what he felt when he first saw her at that dinner. There was something so incredibly intoxicating about her that it stifled him. It did not occur to him, as he drew in the sight of her, that it was unfair of him to desire so much from a girl like her.

Alexander, you dog, he thought to himself. Do not cow her. She is not comfortable...she is unexperienced...give it, give her, time.

He cleared his throat, catching her attention at last. Was it bizarre that he thought she looked even more the beauty when she cried? It felt wrong, but it made him want to drown in those eyes even more. "Your parents would quite literally have me executed if I took you out and about without keeping mind of your health," he gestured to the basket when her brows drooped, curiously. "You must eat. I am sure you are famished. I know I am, and I haven't been working all day for those little snot nosed men."

"I haven't s-seen my brothers today." she said, in a stately way. He was quite sure she hadn't meant it the way that his brain immediately took it, but the hidden and entirely unintended joke, made him break out in laughter and fall back into the grass. Emma looked abashed, cheeks red, not quite understanding what was so funny about what she said at all. After a second more, she looked very uncomfortable with not knowing what was happening, and frowned. "What...what did I say?"

He looked at her, his laughter dying quickly at the look on her face. He sat up, stumbling a little, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I...I wasn't laughing at you."

Her brows furrowed even deeper. "Yes you were."

Alexander smirked a little. "I suppose it did come off that way," he allowed, slowly. "I was laughing at what you said." she blinked, clearly not seeing the difference. "I...I misinterpreted what you said as a joke about your brothers." he explained, hoping that was enough. Her eyes slowly lit with recognition, and her skin paled.

"I didn't mean...I mean I just..."

He chuckled. "You aren't in any trouble, Emma, it was my mistake anyhow. You aren't the type it seems to disparage your family, least of all out of earshot." something about what he said, made her grimace. "Although I would wish you would do so about your father though, cow him into control, I would say. I quite feel threatened, what with fearing a hanging by my ankles and all."

"My father wouldn't do that," she said, a bit defensively.

He just looked at her, amused. He hadn't meant it literally, but he wasn't about to point out the difference to her, not when he loved witnessing her defensive nature for her family. "Aye," he agreed. "He would do whatever you ask him to, the poor sod."

She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Why, what is true of any man who is a father," he explained. "Spoil her silly."

And, surprising him, she spun the conversation in a way he had never expected to hear. "Is...is that what you w-would do?" He stiffened a little bit. He knew what she meant, but he frowned and asked what she meant by that. Her eyes looked irritated and she scowled, as if she was quite clear. She was, in fact, but he wanted to escape the unspoken, and probably also unintended, question. "W-would you spoil your ch-children?"

It made him uncomfortable. He knew his wanton behavior probably resulted in a child here or there the last year or so. He hoped it wouldn't be the case, he tried to be very—very—careful, but these things happened. He was aware that he was blushing. Emma was not asking him if he had children, he knew. "I...I suppose, yes."

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, looking very distressed upon some grand realization. "My b-brothers say I'm spoiled..."

"Do you believe everything your brothers say, dear Emma?"

She blinked. "Sometimes."

He hadn't expected such an honest reply. He leaned back into the grass with his elbows. "They are your brothers. They will say untrue things to you, just to get a rise out of you." she made a face he thought meant she knew that. "They will also say inappropriate things, so be sure to ignore them often."

She pouted. "Inappropriate? How so?"

He pinked. He supposed if she were a learned girl in that regard, he wouldn't have found such attraction in her. He knew though she would not drop it if she did not get some believable answer, so he said, "You know, scandalous subjects, such as murder and vices. A man ought not discuss a drunkard's game before a woman, for example."

She oh'd and he relaxed. "Why is it inappropriate?"

He sputtered, once again thrown. "I...well...you know...there are subjects not polite enough for a woman. Regardless, would you like to keep the company of such? A drunkard, perhaps? A boxer, even?"

She earnestly thought it over, and then shook her head. "Camb and Ben are rather loud when they drink."

"I wouldn't design them upon anyone, sober or not," he added, gruffly, annoyed at the discussion veering off toward the royal men. And then it happened. She started to laugh. He looked at her, surprised, amused. Emma's laughter was a reward, one he couldn't quite pin on an action he had done to earn it. At length, her laughter had a little snort at the end of it, and he couldn't help but smile broadly and laugh as well. He found himself utterly enthralled by the sound of it. It suddenly suited him that she did not have the advances of men to deal with it, that she could be his just for a little longer.

"You're v-v-very silly, Alexander." she said at the end of her fit of giggles.

"Perhaps," he allowed, smiling, and reached into the basket for a roll of bread. "If you would like me to remain alive and capable of silliness, you must eat." He held it out to her, and she took it slowly. Her fingers just barely grazed his hand but it was enough that it made her pull back suddenly, blushing. She looked at the little roll for a minute in quiet before eating. He was sure by her expression she wanted to say something, but she never did.

He joined her in the quiet lunch. He ate more because he didn't want to be the only one not doing anything and letting the silence go, but also to get his mind off of her. It worked for a while. She had quite the appetite, he realized, when she ate one more roll and several plums. He wanted to laugh, but he knew it would upset her, and come across as rude, when only he thought it was cute.

That's when his mind started to race back after her. She had finished her plums and, with sticky fingers, began to lick them and her lips. And all with the smallest and sweetest smiles he could bare. He drew in a sharp breath. Was she doing this deliberately? No, he berated himself. She knew nothing of that desire of anyone or from anyone. He was just a hound looking for want where there was nothing but a quizzical and soft spoken girl.

By gods though he wanted her. He wanted to lay her down against the cool of the grass and sear his lips on hers. He mentally chided himself. The shameful part of it all was that he knew he could convince her to let him, that her naivety wouldn't question him until it had happened, and the thought that he could do it if he desired left him feeling disgusted with himself. He did not like thinking that way about her, this fragile spirit of a girl. Most of all, he knew she deserved nothing but happiness and love and respect.

I'm pathetic, he thought angrily. I'm not some drunk fool, some green boy that can barely contain himself. He ground his teeth, trying very hard to remind himself of restraint. This was not him. He was never some wanton lecher. It was starting to irate him how much she got under his skin, how much she enthralled him.

She was talking then, and despite his efforts, it would have been rude—cruel, even—to openly ignore her attempts at conversation. He turned his head, watching her, and listened to her thoroughly. If the sight of her inebriated him, he would just have to concentrate on her voice. Her conversation had quickly evaporated from the subject of the celebration thanks to his meddling, and soon enough he had her talking about herself. With a greater ease than before. She told him of her favorite historical moments—and, she explained, she had once bribed Benjamin to bring her more books from his visit to Albrook with a new engine to work on, one that had been gifted to her by their father—and even discussed her favorite foods, colors, music, books and even which stories of the Returners she enjoyed the most.

On and on, he got her to talk, and the more she did the more he found himself wading away from his carnal desires and into a territory he was not at all accustomed to. He wanted to know about her, and more, until he could no longer think of a thing to ask her. Instead he let her go on to where she liked. It was often messy, and he had quite the difficulty often understanding her with how fast she spoke, but it was a charm to be sure. This shy and reclusive girl was, once comfortable, rather loquacious.

She was intelligent, and it became clearer and clearer the more she spoke. She had insights most adults did not even care to think about, information of historical points at such depth she could have been a scholar, the idea of the inner workings of mechanical beasts that drove him mad, and perspectives of society and politics that astonished him. His mind wandered back to the night her brother had been announced as heir, and her little out burst, and smiled to himself as she went on about the structure of a formicary.

Emma Aden Aria Figaro was stunning.

The discussion evolved into a soft argument, of sorts. She had brought up a book on theoretical physics and he had a different opinion of it. She handled herself elegantly in the discussion, pointing out each and every time he said something that was not accurate, and explaining how. It was something that was not seated in condescension. She merely desired to explain and was whole heartedly excited to be able to do so.

Suddenly though, he offered his defeat by raising a hand to stop her. Her eyes went wide. "Dear princess, please, allow me to change the subject so I might walk away with a little of my dignity." he was laughing, so she knew he was not serious.

"Okay," she mumbled shyly. "About w-what?" Those eyes. She looked away abruptly when he held hers, blushing. He felt that rage in his chest again, that undeniable desire, and gripped one hand with the other. Those lips. He was envisioning what they might feel like, what they might taste like. He took a deep breath and turned his eyes towards the horizon. "Alexander?" she mumbled quietly, and he realized by her tone she was worried. "Did...did I say something wrong?"

He returned his eyes to her. "Of course not."

"Why..." she stopped herself and then brought her knees back up to her chest, almost defensively. "...nevermind."

He had destroyed the confidence he had been trying to build up for her in less than a minute. How utterly moronic of him. "Emma, you didn't say anything wrong, I swear." she peaked up at him from behind the tousled curls of her hair, disbelieving. "I just..." he swallowed again, and reached for a little of the truth. "I would like to know if I could beseech you for a kiss?"

The faintest of blushes crossed her face as she peeled away from her knees. "...why?" she sounded so suspicious.

He chuckled. What was he thinking! This was not the way to earn her first kiss. He swerved the request into a tease. "Why indeed," he laughed. "Perhaps the better question would be to ask why not? They say the kiss of a beautiful princess can heal any ailing man, and make the sun rise when it ought not to."

She giggled, and then smiled at him just a little bit. "And y-your ailing?"

What a hound I am, he thought, wishing so desperately to rip the humor of the situation, to kiss her. "I most certainly am."

"Of what?" she pushed sweetly, and his heart raced. He wasn't sure if she were trying to flirt, but he had the impression this was just her teasing him for his absurdity.

"I haven't the foggiest clue, but it has left me rather ill of late, so slow of mind. I most likely caught it from someone...most probably one of your brothers, if I had to hazard a guess." She scowled at him and he laughed. "I do love it when you give me that look, dear princess."

And instead of blushing or stammering, she crossed her arms. "What you have is n-n-not life threatening."

"What I have?" he repeated, catching her joke, and then he laughed. "You have a wicked wit about you, dear princess."

She pouted at him. "You are the one that conspired to trick me."

Alexander was finding her charm irresistible. "Oh, but I am ill, dear princess, so terminal." she shook her head, unamused. "My parents can attest to this, and have already concluded my affairs through will and such. And my head! The fiery pain!" he forced a cough or two. "The horrible pain!"

"You don't seem in pain," she mumbled.

A piece of him wondered if she were not teasing him, if she were angry with him. "I am in pain!" she did not look convinced. "Perhaps...if you would but kiss me...just in case?" and then she smiled at him, with such a sweetness his chest tightened, revealing she was not really upset with him.

"If I do, what will I get in return?"

"I should think saving my life enough a reward for you, girl," he said, feigning indignation. She giggled again and, to his surprise, hesitantly leaned in to peck his cheek with a warm kiss. It was the sort she might have granted her father or mother, or brothers, but it was so much more than he ever anticipated, he was left dazed. He was quite sure he was the color of a cherry.

She leaned away and, blushing fiercely, she asked in a whisper, "Did it work?"

He gulped, hard. "Perhaps one more will," he said quietly, hoping to incite yet another kiss. "I think this one would have to be on the lips, though."

The blush that took her face betrayed her despite her words. "You are terrible!"

"I am not. I am just a simple man, looking for the tender love and care of a beautiful lady." he put a hand over his heart, acting hurt.

She offered him a small smile. "...maybe later...if you are good!"

That made all else still around him. His heart started to tighten so fiercely. She looked away, back towards the celebration below, finding nothing more in his words—her words—than a friendly tease perhaps. For him though, it inflamed that raging desire even further. Please, if there are gods, let her be serious! "I will be on my best behavior then." he promised, watching as she glanced at him with another smile, before turning back to the race. Never before had he felt so flustered.

Who was this girl to do such a thing to Alexander, son of the greatest pilot in the world, young master of the female heart and mind? How could such a small, insecure girl bring such an impact on him? And how could such a feeling, so frightening, also be so inviting? How could he want more of such a confusing feeling?

I want to be yours, he thought, as the breeze shifted through her hair and the sunlight blazing off her minty locks, paling like ice in the intense light. He wanted to run his hands through her hair, to squeeze her so tightly against him the shape of her could barely be discernable from his own body, to kiss her. She knows nothing of it, he told himself, burning the memories of her embarrassment over touches and kisses and nearness in his mind. I would hate to impose it on her, too, but gods... her smile left the gentlest of dimples, of such he wanted to kiss. The man you take for husband will be blessed in so many ways.

And, determined to restrain himself, he turned away from her and joined her in watching the race below.

When the minutes turned to an hour, then two, the contestants soon began to disperse for the after activity celebration. Some time before, between the switch from the sword tourneys to jousting, Emma had tired away peacefully against his right arm. Her breathing was gentle, soft against the wind, and rhythmic. He did not dare to move, to expose himself to the feeling without her against him, with that heat of hers and that intoxicating smell. What's more, he did not want to move her and stir her from her sleep, when he knew she was exhausted.

He hadn't even known she had fell asleep at first either. It was only after he had asked her if he could be her gentleman attendant at the up and coming ball for her academy that he noticed it. When he got no answer, he shifted to look at her face, and found her whisked away into restfulness. Her left arm had been interlocked with his right, gentle in its grip, while her other hand laid in her lap.

She shivered against him but did not stir. Carefully, and finding the chance to do so irresistible, he drew his arm out of hers and wrapped it around her. He found he quite liked the way that she fit against him, with her tiny little frame. It was a great comfort, he thought, and found himself wishing its company continuously. It was not the same as the intimate relations he jollily conducted with women, but it stung at his heart in a very different way. He wanted Emma beside him more than this.

Was this feeling what others felt when they wanted more than a fleeting encounter? Was what he felt looking at her peaceful face the beginning of something more? He wasn't even sure if he was comfortable with that. He very much liked his bachelor life. He never used women, not like how people assumed. The truth was that he very much adored them, treated them all like queens...he just never felt more. Most of the women he was with understood that too...so, even with that, was it still wrong? Sometimes he just wanted to say "I love women, how is that wrong?" but could never find the courage to say it to said people, people like Cambyses, in fear it would further drive his reputation down into the mud.

They called him a young scoundrel for his behavior, an incorrigible rake, and chided him for managing to even charm older women to sleep with him instead of spending his time and intelligence on something profitable or good for his future—though he kept telling them he could have both. And it was often the jealousy of other men—both around his age and older—that led to him being beaten up constantly. Sometimes right after an encounter with a woman, when her husband or lover walked in on them or on him attempting to charm her. He meant the women no harm of course...only that he loved them all. Was it a crime to love all women? Was this how the king of Figaro felt when he went after each and every skirt? Maybe...he wouldn't mind it so much being burned by women if it meant Emma would look at him in the same way just for one day or night.

How did Edgar manage to convince Terra of more? Alexander had to know. He had to be with Emma, to see the ways she could continue to grow as a person. To learn more about her and cherish more.

Gently, he shifted to look at her face. "Emma?" he whispered, but she did not stir. Her face was that of deep sleep. Her lips looked so inviting. He wanted to lean down, to take her lips with his, but shook his head. No. That was not the way. Not with sweet, honest, trusting Emma. "Sweet dreams, dear Emma." he offered instead, wrapping his arm around her further to give her some of his heat against the chilly wind.

When she woke again it was due to the bugle howling through the air, concluding the celebration's events, but primarily the main event—the antlion race. She jostled awake, away from his warm side, frightened by the sudden noise. She looked around, breathing hard, not recalling, until her eyes rested on him. She looked so confused.

"Emma?" he sat up. "Are you well?"

Something clicked in her eyes, and she looked towards the race. The crowds were dispersing the combative stages and such. "What..." she gaped. "What did I miss?"

"You were asleep for quite a while..."

"What did I miss?" she asked again, urgently.

"Everything after the jousting, I'm afraid."

She gasped and got to her feet so fast she tumbled back to her knees, having got up too fast. "I h-have to go!"

Quickly he got up to help her to her feet, to steady her until she could walk herself. "At least let me walk you down the hill. I would hate myself if you took a tumble on my watch.

"Thank you Alexander and..." she hesitated before she smiled at him earnestly. "and thank you...for talking with me. It—it was really nice...t-t-talking to you, I mean."

"I would love to continue conversation anytime princess. Now, let us get you to your brothers before the event is over."

---

Alexander walked her down the hill and halfway to the ceremonial gathering before they split up to find their families. Alexander had said something about needing to keep his brothers in check before kissing her hand and hurrying off into the ground. Now all she had to do was find hers.

She shuffled through crowd after crowd, becoming restless and annoyed by her continued failures, until at last she found them. She had just walked into the center of the festival, where the celebrational dinners would be had. Her father and mother were standing together off to the side of the crowd, looking both proud and nervous. Emma smiled a little and began to approach them. Her parents eyes locked onto her brothers, and the emotion that burned behind them was strangling to Emma.

Her father ruffled her youngest brother's hair. "I expected nothing else from my sons. Congratulations on your spectacular race, gentlemen."

Cambyses was grinning ear from ear. After all, why wouldn't he? Emma did not like the celebration one bit, but she knew how long her brothers had been anticipating the antlion race, since as far back as she could recall of their grand desires. The low population post Kefka had ruined the tradition. This was a day he had waited for for years, and it finally arrived. He was allowed his pride, and she felt happy for him, despite her objections.

Emma smiled and took a few more steps towards them, intending to run up and jump onto her brother's back, to annoy him and congratulate him, only to stop as her parents began to talk at length.

Her mother brought them both into hugs and gave them kisses all over their face, tearfully. "You two were gallant out there," she pressed them even closer as their father laughed. "I'm so very proud of you." she cried.

Something in Emma started to wheel about, sickening her.

"And you scored among the highest, too," their father said, smiling dashingly. "I did not think I would be granted this day, to see my sons run the race. I am..." he struggled for the way to say it. "I am very proud of the men you two have become."

She took a step back, crying. There was something strange about witnessing her brothers be praised so effortlessly like that, something that made the sickening feeling in her chest lurch about harder. The realization that she had never been praised like that, that she would never be praised like that, least of all by her father, dug at her. It wasn't as if she was not proud of her brothers herself, happy even, it was this overwhelming feeling of...loneliness...that made her turn away from them and hurry back into the crowd.

She would not ruin her brothers' day with her troubles.

••••••••••••

The day had been exhausting.

Edgar just wanted to take his wife home and lie with her in bed for forty eight hours straight, but he knew that at the cusp of the celebration, he would return right back to his kingly duties, and reasons of state would take his attention yet again. He was tired though, so very tired. The swell of pride could not force that exhaustion away from him. His sons had performed remarkably, though Edgar was certain that if they had not scored top of the board, he would have still been very proud. His sons had many faults about them, most in particular with how they dealt with their sister, but they were men now, both at age and at societal acceptance. And he could spot the emerging changes in them, as if they finally realized they were not boys anymore and would need to change course immediately.

The weight of the crown on his eldest undoubtedly shifted most of his son's energies away from poking fun at his sister, but there was still too much of lazing about that Edgar could care for. Perhaps today, they would remark upon their behavior entirely.

At the moment, he stood at the end of the table, arms crossed behind him, as he watched families gather to their respective tables. It was customary that all families with competing sons have tables set for them, and in the case of orphaned boys, they sat with the crown's guard. That was a newer tradition, one his wife had requested and he found no fault in. It was, after all, not their fault they had nothing but the skin and clothes on their backs.

His entire family would be seated at the center of the celebration, with two massive tabled joined together to accommodate all royal lineage and their extending family and friends. Edgar had no intention, after all, of denying his best friend, whom had become something like a brother to his wife in the long years that had transpired since the beautiful green haired woman appeared in his throne room.

He could not seat himself right now, not until all had sat first. His wife couldn't either, she would stand beside him, regal as ever, armed looped through his. It went by relation first, of course. Edgar's family seated themselves first, then his brother and his family, and then the Cole family. The Gabbiani family, unfortunately, did not qualify for it. They were seated at the table to the right of them.

The wait was beginning to irate him. He hadn't had to sit through this in decades, and back then he and his brother were the ones being waited on. Now he understand why his father was so annoyed at the end of the race. He must have been as famished as Edgar was right that second, only sadly his father did not have his wife to accompany him all evening. That made Edgar's heart wretch. His mother had been said to be one of immeasurable beauty, stoic and yet as gentle as spring's early breeze. There had been only one portrait to survive his youth years, and it had been destroyed in the first relocation attempt of the castle. Edgar had long forgotten what she looked like, only able to imagine the long, brunette hair but nothing else. It pained him to have forgotten her face, as if he was betraying her somehow.

His wife must have noticed his apprehension, because she tightened her hold on his arm and looked up at him. He offered her a small smile, and then turned his eyes back to the table. Everyone was seated. Edgar first helped his wife into her seat beside him and then, with reigned dignity, he sat himself down. At once, all others around them began to converse and eat.

Edgar tried his best to fit himself into the rotating conversations at the table, but he found no energy to do so. He found more contentment in listening to the family he and Terra had created, that they shared with Sabin and Locke and Celes. It was something he and Sabin had dreamed of for years, a family like this. Now that he had it, Edgar felt nothing but adoration.

Even when they argued.

"No," Ardel countered with a snap. "Ours was certainly larger than yours!"

The direction of the objection was Benjamin, who had claimed to have scored the highest amongst the family. The prince had done so directly to tease his cousins, but they did not understand that. It was of course true that Benjamin's catch was larger, but somehow, his sons and his nephews always found something to argue about.

"If the charts say it, it is true," Ben had interjected with a smile.

"Enough, enough," Sabin had hissed at them. "I will ring heads if I gotta hear another word about it." the boys had quieted, and Edgar felt great relief that his brother had stepped up to settle it.

Wanting to divert the boys' attention from any further infighting, and not wishing to convince them that he did not care, he asked each boy which after-event activities would they be joining in first. There was about a dozen options, and one was not limited to one of course, but most would find themselves far too tired to compete in anything else with serious resolve. His nephews expressed interest in the open jousting rounds, but his sons had different desires altogether.

Benjamin wanted to compete in the martial arts rounds, and his eldest had answered with a, "I might attend the tourney. It will depend if Cadence will keep me company, though." his eyes had skirted down the table towards the young woman in question, who was in grossed in deep conversation with her mother and Karrin. "It otherwise seems pointless to me."

Benjamin laughed. "It is always about the crowd with you, isn't dear brother?"

Cambyses placed a dark stare on his younger brother. "Do not steal lines from our sister, Benjamin, it makes you look like a child." it was clear Cambyses had intended to insult both his brother and his sister with that.

Before Benjamin could retort, Terra stopped the fight. "Alright," they looked at her. "This is meant to be a joyous day, gentlemen, please behave yourselves or must I tell the world my sons are still but boys?" that threat, so elegantly made, shut them up immediately. That caused his wife to giggle beside him, amused still by her influence over her sons. The boys went back to their discussions, as did the rest of the table.

Edgar took a long sip of his wine, trying to distract himself from the aching in his knees. Suddenly he felt Terra poking at him. He sat aside his glass and looked at her, frowning. "Whatever is the matter woman that you have to poke me so?"

She giggled at his teasing and leaned over to kiss the side of his face. "I will poke you however I please, and as much as I please."

He smiled. "That sounds like a challenge, dear wife." he took her hand, and kissed her fingers. "One I shall test tonight." even after all these years, and three children, the prospect of love making to his wife still caused her to blush like a maiden and stammer about. In part, Edgar believed their daughter's sweetness and easy to embarrass nature, came primarily from his wife.

She shushed him, still blushing, and tightened her hand around his. "You will do well not to test me, Edgar."

He laughed. "Of course."

"Oh, that reminds me," Terra leaned closer to her husband. "I have been thinking about setting something up for Emma. We should not exclude her from something of her own."

"That is nonsense," he grumbled. "No one is excluding her from anything. This is merely an event for men. I am sure there are dozens of things for girls, too." in particular, he was thinking of the age arrival balls, and the marriage presentations that would follow her come her fourteen or fifteen or so name day. That though, was something he did not want to think about whatsoever. "When she is thirty or so, she shall have things to look forward to. A family, perhaps, but most certainly a doting husband of her own."

Terra laughed at his hysterical tone. "Perhaps sooner than thirty, if I am lucky. I should think our little girl would make the most loveliest of grandchildren."

"Terra!" Edgar hissed, abashed.

"Oh Edgar, stop that," she chided. "Regardless, I had something else in mind for her. A gift maybe, or some such. She has been so very patient lately, and very helpful."

"That is because we have grounded her," Edgar pointed out, sipping at his wine again. Terra sighed, annoyed with him. He then turned his eyes to scroll down the length of the table to find his daughter. "However, I do agree. She has been quite agreeable lately, besides a few hiccups. Good behavior deserves reward. We shall think of something to rouse her spirits, I'm sure and..." he stopped, and sat down his glass, when he could not locate their daughter. "Terra...where is our daughter?"

Immediately his wife glanced down the table and towards the seat that was meant to be their daughters and shifted straighter, alarmed. "I...she was..."

"Wasn't she supposed to be seated beside Benjamin?" he asked quietly, so as to not disrupt the party for everyone else.

"Of course," she said, barely containing the worry in her tone.

Edgar was feeling furious now. "Of all the days for her insolence!" he hissed, loud enough for Benjamin to have heard. "For how long as she been missing?!"

Benjamin looked up from his plate and said, "Emma?" Terra and Edgar looked at him, expectantly. He scoffed. "I haven't seen her since she went off with Alexander." immediately Edgar turned his gaze toward the Gabbiani table and saw that the young man in question was seated beside his father, engaged in deep conversation. Not a tinge of green hair about the table.

The fury had escalated now, not only towards his disobedient daughter, but for his sons noticing something so crucial and keeping it secret. He rose and glared at his son, missing the stares of those all around him. "And you saw to it, in your infinite wisdom, not to inform me or your mother that your sister was not here, before we sat down to eat?" he growled at him, causing the lad to shrink low in his seat. "I thought I raised you right, to have the sense to tell me when your sister wanders off with a man all alone."

"Father—"

"Do not interrupt me." he snapped, louder than he intended. Everyone at the table stopped to look at him, but he did not care. "You have no idea the situation you allowed her to walk into."

"I didn't do anything," he interjected. "I cannot be made at fault every time my sister acts like an idiot."

"She does not know it is scandalous to be with a man alone, you however, knew of this and allowed it." Edgar told him, barely controlling another out burst. This was enough for his son to understand. Benjamin leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms, clearly pissed.

"Father, what does it matter?" Cambyses asked after a moment. "She found us, and this event, to be so trivial she left without a word. If a bit of humiliation from society for her antics is what might teach her to behave, then let it happen."

"What fine men I see before me," he told them with great disdain, causing them to look at him with wide eyes. Edgar looked to his wife, who was looking as if she were about to burst into tears. "Terra, please see to it that the boys—" he stressed that part, because they had not acted like men whatsoever. "—have their time with the celebration. I must take my leave, you understand."

She did. She nodded. "Of course Edgar...find her."

His departure from the dining are was well noted, by everyone, especially his sons. They did not like that he was leaving during such a special occasion, but they made no fuss. If not for the fact that they were entering society as men finally, then for the fact that they understood easily how angry their father was with them.

How could they be so stupid? He thought, storming through each and every area for his daughter. He could not believe his sons would not tell him something like this. He knew they were angry at her for leaving, but to willingly let her endanger herself? To wander off alone, and with a man? Where had he gone wrong in raising them? Why was his daughter so determined to betray every sense of trust in them with her disobedience and selfishness?

How did I miss that she was not there? He thought, entering the dancing square, the fourth placed he had checked so far. There wasn't a soul, except for security. He stopped them and asked if they had seen his daughter, but they had not. How had it gone unnoticed that there wasn't a screaming match between his eldest son and daughter, as there usually was during a dinner? Or her constant pleas to her mother for sweets and meats, rather than her mushy oats or bland vegetables. How could he have missed any of that? His worry was beginning to burn at him, and he could not help but think of her running away again.

When he had wandered for an hour through the crowds, stopping to ask the assistance of guards and workers, it dawned on him that maybe his daughter was no longer at the celebration. He tried to calm himself down from that paranoia. Certainly his daughter would not be so stupid as to leave the protection provided by the guard? He made his way to the carriages, hoping his daughter was there.

Instead he found a man sweeping, and sixteen soldiers walking about. There was no sign of his infuriating daughter. Oh how she would come to regret her decisions.

Edgar stopped one of the soldiers. "Excuse me, ser, but I am in need of your help."

"Certainly, your majesty," the soldier said, bowing. "Whatever could I assist you with?"

"It is my daughter," he said simply. "Have you seen her through here?"

"Most certainly, your grace. She came by some time ago, and asked us to take her back to the castle."

Edgar felt every nerve in his body turn to fire. "And did she grace you with a reason as to why she was leaving?"

"I did ask, your grace. She told us she was not feeling very well, and by the look of it, she was not."

By the look of it? Now he was even more worried. Had she returned home because she was sick, because she was experiencing an episode? He tried very hard to keep the fear out of his eyes. "Do you have any free carriages left?" the soldier pointed to one. "Good, that will do. When the celebration is over, find my wife and inform her of the situation. And be sure they take the royal carriage back."

"Of course, your grace." he bowed and hurried off.

Edgar luckily knew how to drive carriages himself. He sent the driver away, paid him finely of course, and began the arduous journey back to the castle.

When he finally arrived at the castle, and had a soldier drive the carriage back, he found several soldiers lounging about by the gates. They were laughing almost hysterically over something when he approached. When they noticed him, they shot up straight and bowed. "Your majesty!" they explained.

"Gentlemen," Edgar said, nudging his head to indicate they could leave attention. "Have any of you gentlemen come across my daughter? I was told she came back to the castle, on her own?"

One of the soldiers nodded. "Yes, your majesty, she came through about three hours ago, I believe. She was accompanied by ser Gres."

Edgar was thankful she at least had the sense to leave with a soldier she knew well. "Did she look faint?"

"Yes, your majesty, she looked quite...faint."

Noticing the way he had said it, Edgar asked him to explain. "Well, your grace, it is just..." he hesitated. The other beside him elbowed him to continue. "She looked as if she had been...crying."

"She did not look sick, your grace." the other said, as if it needed to be further explained. "Only very upset."

"I will speak to Gres, immediately." One soldier ran off then to get the man in question. "Tell me, gentlemen, did she mention anything? What might have caused her to cry?"

"No," the first had answered. "Gres asked if something happened, but she just burst into more tears, so he walked her back to her room."

Sensible and responsible of the man, Edgar thought, just as the soldier was returning with ser Gres. The bowed at approach. "Please, I am just looking to know more of my daughter's situation. Gres, you were with her, what did you make of it?"

"Well, she certainly wasn't sick, your grace," Gres said. "But it was very clear something had upset her. When I asked her about it, she started to lose it."

"Lose it?"

"She wasn't making much sense," he explained, hesitantly. "She was...hysterical." Edgar felt more worry then. "I obliged to walk her to her room, to ensure she got there safely. She didn't even fight me on that."

That alarmed Edgar. His daughter hated being doted on by soldiers. She said it made her look weak. "I see..." he took a breath. "Thank you, that will be all."

Edgar thanked the young men and made his way into the castle. If his daughter thought it was okay to skip mandatory celebrations during her grounded period, she had another thing coming. How could she just leave on such an important day for her brothers? How could she just leave without telling him, or Terra, where she was going and why? It was the second time she had done something so reckless and selfish. She would be punished accordingly.

When he made his way to the wing where her room was, he cleared the hall of soldiers (so that they would not eavesdrop as he knew some of them did) and made his way to her room. When he pushed the door open, breath collected to start yelling swiftly, he saw that she was already asleep. She was curled up under her blankets with her arms wrapped around one of her pillows.

He approached with a steady breath, now released from his anger, and inspected her closely. He checked her temperature first—it felt about as normal as it could get for her—and then he leaned down to look at her face. She certainly had been crying.

I do not understand, he thought, tiredly and impatiently. I do not know what all bothers you. Is it your bullies, or brothers, something else? All of it? How am I supposed to help you when you do not speak to me? Why did everything have to be so difficult with his daughter? When his boys were upset or angry, they made sure to say it and of course, he would either punish them for their behavior or try to fix it. With Emma though, it was a whole new method to learn, to combat. In order to even begin helping her, he and his wife had to fight through multiple facades, then fight with her, then try to explain and then hope through her tantrums she understood even a smidgen of the issue or that they came through understanding a bit of her unseen problems. It strangely fascinated him how well his daughter could hide so much about herself (a trait, he knew, she picked up from Relm's rearing), but it was mostly worrying and painful.

Would she always be like this? Would he and his wife never know her as well as they did their sons? Would they never be able to comfort her as she deserved?

He turned to make his way out of the room when he caught sight of a book poking out from under her mattress. When he tugged it free, he gasped. Her journal, something the whole family knew she kept guarded very well. Her name was etched elegantly across the middle of the front, black fine writing against a red leather. It was quite hefty in his hands. He looked around the room, suddenly very ashamed of the thoughts pouring into his mind, before he looked at the calligraphy on the cover again. He glanced up, looking at his daughter's restful little face, before he sighed and stuffed the journal into his coat.

He, despite his little cave into invasion of her privacy, tucked her in and then whisked away before she could wake and see the familial crime he had committed. He had secluded himself in his personal study, and because he knew people liked to barge in despite that, he locked the door. Only his wife possessed another key. He sat the journal on the table and paced a short line before it, reeling on whether or not to read it. He knew it would be an untold invasion of her most private thoughts, but on the other hand he knew he and his wife would never get her to tell them the truth. And with no way to understand why his daughter was acting so strange, and now knowing she was being bullied (and exceptionally frequently at that point) he could not in good faith not do whatever he could to know the situation.

Edgar drew in a sharp, long breath—heart racing—and sat down. He took a minute to stare at her elegant writing. There was a time her calligraphy suffered so terribly it was as if one was trying to translate some randomly created language of scribbles and doodles, but now she had the calligraphy talents of a scholar. Or so the professors at the High Collège said. It was years of calligraphy education back in Thamasa that broke her from it.

He took another breath and finally opened the journal. He could tell just by a glance that the first few pages were months, if not years, older. He quickly peaked through them, and when he saw that it was detailing life in Thamasa, he skipped the pages. It didn't seem as important at the moment if the bulk her problems started now. He needed to know what has been happening since she came to Figaro, which was coming up on half a year now.

The first page of her life in Figaro came almost at the middle of the journal. He adjusted the reading light next to him and reached for his glasses tucked securely away in his pocket. Able, he began to read.

Figaro Castle is enormous! Relm and Gau said you could get lost in it and I'm starting to think they are right. Mother and father keep telling me where things are, but I keep forgetting. I cannot wait for the day when I know its secrets like they do.

Somehow that felt very saddening to him. He looked at the other page, dated two days later.

I haven't been in Figaro for more than a week and I am already being yelled at by Camb. I don't understand, why is he so mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Now he has Ben mad at me too, and he won't fly kites with me anymore. They said it is for stupid little children, but how? I think maybe they just out grew me.

Edgar felt such a pang of pain at that. He flipped the page only twice, and landed on something that hurt.

I do not think mother and father are happy I am here. Cambyses told me I'm an idiot, but when I told him that he wasn't all that smart, only I got yelled at. And when I tried to point that out to them, I was grounded. Why don't they listen to me? I wish Relm and Gau were here...they would at least listen to me.

Edgar flipped several pages again. This page was crinkled, and the ink smeared here and there. It took him only a second to realize she was angry at the time.

I hate Figaro! I hate Camb! I hate Ben! I hate the kids at the academy! I hate them all!

Edgar had to smooth the next part out and even then some of the starting text was too damaged to read.

They started making fun of me today because of stupid Camb! Bastard...that is what they called me. I don't know what it means, but Camb was laughing too, so it couldn't have been good. Why didn't you stop them?

Could this be the truth? Why would she lie about it in a place she kept secret? Would Cambyses really act with such behavior at a public setting concerning his sister? Were they just the frustrated words of a lonely girl? Edgar turned only about four or five pages.

I can't take it anymore. Ben and Camb called me Aden in front of everyone today, and now they won't stop calling me by that name. The girls wouldn't even let me in the girls' changing room, they said the boys' room is on the other end of the hall. Do I look like a boy? Why did mother and father give me a boy's name? What did I ever do to you, Camb?

Edgar was horrified. Could his sons really have done something so cruel to their sister, and in front of her bullies? He felt so frustrated on what to believe. He flipped several more pages.

Mother and father didn't believe me, again. Why would I play in the cellars? It's scary! I wouldn't go down there even for the engines. And yet I'm a liar. Father said that...that I always lie to them. Do I? I should just stay in my room, otherwise I cannot escape them.

He remembered that day well, and reading it through her perspective hurt him. He had said she lies to them quite a lot, but he never said she was a liar. Now that he thought on it though, was there a difference between the statements? And that wasn't even considering the truth of her words. Emma did not like dark places, they terrified her, and yet he did not even try to listen to her explanation of why she was telling the truth. How have I been so blind?

Today mother told me that words cannot hurt me if I do not give them power. You are wrong mother, they hurt more than you think.

It was an effort to continue now, as he was becoming very uncomfortable with the steady increase in what was clearly her unhappiness and loneliness. Why? Why have you been so silent on all of this?

Today councilman Brud was watching me from the parapets again. He told me that I would burn the castle down like the lunatic before me, but I don't know what he means. Well, whatever! I hate you Brud, and one day you will be dead and I will not be sorry for wishing it upon you.

It was such strong language, language he was not accustomed to hearing from his little girl. He could not fault her for the thoughts, of course—Brud was among the least liked members of the council—but the realization she thought and felt so deeply about it unsettled him. Was the council bothering her so much, too?

Today was a good day!

That brought a small, relieved small to him. So there could be something she found to be good. It horrified him to find out what could be 'good' for her, though.

I actually talked to him! The boy from my history class! He is the smartest person I know, besides father. We haven't talked much, I know that is not possible for someone like me, but tomorrow we will be on the same work committee for the gardens!

A boy! It was a boy that brought her comforts?! He felt so sick. How could he already be losing her to that nonsense? His boys had started so early, he had hoped Emma would blossom very, very late in life. Yet here it was...that unseemly youthful crush!

Veva and Arcy would not let me get near him to talk, but that's okay. Today was close enough for a life time.

Edgar felt tears in his eyes. He couldn't even feel pride and love from her clear respect of him, not when he could see how miserable and alone she felt. How isolated she was not only from her peers, but her own brothers. There could be no way these were lies, he determined. There was just too much passion in the words.

It isn't fair! Why do I get grounded but never Camb and Ben? Why do they get to make fun of the way I talk or look, but I can't even say a word without father yelling at me and locking me to my room? Doesn't he see what they do to me, what they say? Do I not matter?

The tears fled from his eyes. Celes was right. He had been such a fool, and so blind. Now his little girl thought that she... he felt daggers in his heart. Sweet girl, you will never understand how much your mother and I adore you.

I don't understand...what does it mean? What is a 'bastard'?

Edgar flipped the page.

Father grounded me again today. 'be nice to your brothers' he says, 'Behave yourself!' he says! Well, what about Camb and Ben? Why do they get to do all of these things that I would get in trouble for? Why does Camb get to call me bastard or annoying or stupid, but when I tell him he's stupid, father starts screaming at me? You know what, I think you are the bastard Camb. And one day, when you have made the same mistakes I have, father will hate you too.

Hate her?! He was both enraged by that and horrified. And were his sons truly calling her that word again? No. She...she wouldn't lie about this. He thought with such grief. My daughter is many things, but I can be proud in that she is not a liar and she would never be so dishonest as to displace her brothers so. She loves them too much to.

With a silent prayer to the gods to give him strength, he skipped a page or so.

I saw him again today during musical theory. Professor Akron asked him to move equipment for our practice. He said hello to me. To me! This is the first time he has talked to me. Maybe this academy isn't so bad after all.

Edgar really wished he knew whoever this boy was. So he could promptly thank him and then simultaneously destroy him. It was of no matter at the moment though. He would find out sooner or later. All it would take would be asking the professors for a student list for all the classes Emma had. Then it would just be about mercilessly hunting him down. If there were a boy out there to catch his daughter's eye, he would be sure he deserved it first.

He changed pages a few times, and stopped on a page that was ruined from water. There was no writing, no ink whatsoever. Realizing as he smoothed the paper out what had damaged it so, he felt so ashamed of himself. Tears. Whatever happened on this day she couldn't even bring herself to write about it. Emma...my sweet girl....

Another page.

What's wrong with me?

Two pages after, all blank, until it suddenly collided with inked paper again. What he read brought tears anew to his eyes.

Don't worry Camb; I hate myself too.

There was nothing else after that, and the writing had been so messy. It was all he could take.

Edgar snapped the journal shut, loudly and sat it down on his table, letting his tears run quietly for a long moment.

It took all of the strength in him to keep from barging into his daughter's room and spanking her and then holding her so close it would kill her. How could such a sweet girl have so many troubles? Such a gentle child, with such a pretty face and gentle heart, think so nastily not only of her brothers but herself? Is this the out come of our decisions? Edgar thought, staring at his daughter's cursive name. Is this because we sent her away? No, don't be a fool Edgar. Your daughter was sick, dying, and she needed to be someplace that could help her with that and her blood.

In that, he was certain he and Terra made the best choice possible. But it was beginning to dawn on him that they had not been very careful lately with what they did and said to and around their daughter, and lost that bit of extra care in the decisions made for her and her life. He had foolishly thought that being back in Figaro would make everything okay—for her and for them. All he had managed to do was tear his daughter from the one place she was accustomed to and bring her to a foreign land that did not know her and treated her like some monster.

It was of course true his daughter still needed discipline, she was after all just a child, but it was unmistakable now—she needed more attention than he or Terra could afford to give right now with the kingdom. He froze at that thought. Afford to give? He chuckled to himself, disgusted. Listen to yourself Edgar...your daughter is in pain and is rearing out of control, and you still think of the kingdom first? He was stuck between two impossible situations. He had a kingdom to manage—and every day there were issues or some sort—and a frail, lonely daughter to care for.

What could he do? He could have Sabin take over as king until he was...until he was what? His daughter wouldn't grow out of their need for years, and even then she would still need monitoring for her health and her... No, there is nothing I can do but try to split myself between the two even further. He tucked the journal away into the desk and leaned into his chair. He would need to consult with Terra about this before anything was done. He glanced at the nearest clock. She would still be talking with the guards about finding volunteers—paid, of course—to help clean up the celebration.

Deciding it could not wait, he got up to flag a soldier and have him retrieve his wife. He needed to think carefully on how he presented what he did, and what he knew, to his father. Terra was exceptionally sweet, there was no hateful bone in her, and when it came to their daughter she was unquestionably devoted to making her happy and smile. She never wanted to be the reason she was sad, angry or cried. It often left the punishments to Edgar. He didn't mind that so much. His wife was not the kind of person who could do such things even if she believed it was for the best. Back in Mobliz, she would often write to him that she didn't know how to start learning to discipline her children. Eventually she had, but it was too much for her even then.

After a short while, the door opened and in came his wife. She looked worried.

Edgar rose from his chair and helped her into one. She looked at him with a frown. "Edgar, what's wrong?"

He sighed. Intuitive as always. He knew that was where his daughter got it from. "It is about Emma." She half rose from her seat, startled, but he gestured for her to remain seated. "She's fine Terra, she's not hurt." she settled back into her chair, though her flesh was still pale.

"Edgar, you are scaring me. What is this about? What is wrong with Emma?"

"Now I need you to understand, this was not planned," he started. "I had gone into her room to check on her and...and I saw it."

"What did you see?"

Edgar cleared his throat and recovered the journal, sitting it on the table so she could see it. Her eyes roamed it for a second before they widened, and then she looked at him. Alarmed. "Do not tell me that is what I think it is, Edgar!"

"Terra, it's not what it seems—"

"Oh, it isn't?" she snapped. "You weren't planning to read it, then?!"

He pinked. "Actually, I...I already read some of it."

"How could you do something so insensitive, so invasive?!"

"Terra, I know it is wrong, but what other course did I have?" he asked. "She is being bullied every day, not only by her peers but her own brothers! She says nothing to us, she just endures it! She back talks and lies to hide her problems, and has so many secrets! Such terrible secrets!"

"Of course she has secrets," she shouted. "She's a thirteen year old girl with no friends and no one..." she cut herself off there, looking away. Edgar had seen the tears though. "It doesn't matter what she does or says to us, Edgar, you should have never taken it, let alone read it!"

"How else am I supposed to know what is going on, then?" this time Terra could not provide answers. "Terra, the things she says...I..." he took a deep breath. "I can't let it go on."

"She trusts you Edgar," she mumbled. "She will be heart broken when she learns you did this to her."

"She's out of control and in pain. I had no other choice." he gestured to the journal. "Terra, read it."

"No." she said, standing. "I will not." As she was walking away, Edgar stood and took the journal, opening it on a random page. He read it aloud.

Professor Relor said I was a burden in class today. I already know what I am, professor.

Terra turned to look back at him, tearfully. He continued.

Father told me today that he and the boys will be traveling to South Figaro for a few days for business. I'm not allowed to go Camb said, I'm not old enough, but I hope I get a day like that when I'm their age. Just me and father, and mother. It's worth waiting for.

Terra let her tears fall. "Stop it Edgar, please."

But he needed Terra to understand the problem with Emma not sharing what is happening to her—good or bad. That their daughter refusing to even voice a shred of her suffering, happiness or agitation was unhealthy. He found the page from earlier, and looked at Terra before reading it.

Don't worry Camb; I hate myself too.

It was enough. Terra stormed up to him and tore the journal out of his hands and started to hit him with it. It wasn't very hard hitting. He suspected she was just letting her frustrations and grief wild, and he accepted that. Finally she hid her face against his chest and cried. Edgar wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"I love her Edgar," she sobbed. "I love her so much!"

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

•••••••••••

When Emma woke, she was disoriented. She sat up slowly and rubbed thoroughly at her eyes, trying to wake herself completely and quickly. She felt so exhausted. She had stayed up crying, and couldn't even remember when she had started to dowse off. She carefully scooted to the edge of the bed and placed her feet as close to the floor as they could reach, and took several long breaths. She had experienced enough head rushes in the morning to make it a habit to be cautious and slow in standing. When she was certain she could stand, she did so and tiredly made her way to her chest of clothes.

Today was an academy day, and she could not afford to be late. She dug through her clothes until she found trousers the color of umber, which cupped at the ankles (her mother had most of her clothes tailored just for her, since she was so tiny), and then a vermilion blouse. She then went to her large dresser and recovered fresh under garments and a large, fluffy towel. When she was in the basin room, she filled the basin to nearly the brim with as hot as water as the pipes could manage and then shed out of her clothes. She had never gotten dressed for the night, so now she would need to peel her sheets and blankets off and have them washed too. Otherwise she never would be able to sleep.

Finished undressing, she soaked herself in the basin for half an hour before she scrambled out of it and toweled herself down. She put her dirty clothes in the bin beside the door and then hurried into her room to continue her routine. She brushed her hair until it shone and only then did she clipped a portion of it out of her face to just above the left ear and then she went to her closet. The floor was covered in different sets of dress shoes, but most of them were still dirty and could not be worn to the academy. They had a very strict dress code. She would need to wash them later, before she lost the last few good pairs and had nothing. She decided on the darkest pair available, a blue so deep it looked black, and then went about looking for her satchel.

She knew she put it somewhere, but couldn't quite remember where. She found it a few minutes later under her desk, closed from view by a tower of books. She carefully moved them aside and took her satchel, making sure everything she needed was within. Pleased, she scurried out of her room and down stairs. The day would be long enough with what she had to do, to say, to her brothers. There was no sense in delaying it.

The great hall was empty except for her brothers, who had been eating quietly when she arrived. The instant the door slammed behind her, their eyes went to her. Their expressions told her everything she needed to know about what they were thinking. Her mother was not in sight, which was a strange thing.

She pressed further into the hall, keeping her eyes down. She sat her satchel down at the end of the table and looked at them again. They were still staring, with such annoyance and contempt she could feel it. She struggled to find the strength to continue.

Just say it, she told herself. It's easy...I'm sorry...that's all.

"Ben? Camb?" now they finally looked away, though the anger was still very much evident. "I...I just wanted to s-s-say that...to talk about leaving the other day." still, nothing. "I saw you two race, I did, even weigh them, but I...I just felt sick so I..." she wrung her hands together, suddenly feeling very sick and tiny from them ignoring her. "Camb, Ben...please, I'm—"

The doors opened behind her and in came their parents. She looked at them quickly before going back to her attempts at an apology. Before she could continue any further, her mother cut her off. "Emma, dear, we need to see you in the foyer." again she looked at her parents briskly, and then returned her eyes to her brothers.

"Please, I'm trying to—"

"Emma," her father's stern tone stopped her. "To the foyer right this instant." At her hesitation, he added, "Now." with a sigh of defeat, she turned and followed her parents out of the great hall.

The walk was quiet. The sound of her father's boots clapping against stone terrified her. No...no don't think that. Remember what they said...I...I may not be in trouble. She held back a cry. Of course she was in trouble! She left the celebration, one that was part of her punishment! Her father wanted to see her in private to scream at her and punish her further.

When they arrived at the foyer, her father held the door open for them and then closed it behind them. Emma stood dumbly aside as her parents found their seats at the table, almost elbow-to-elbow. She tried to calm the beating of her heart as her father gestured to the seat opposite of them and the table. Emma frowned. "I...I can stand."

He pointed again. "Sit down m'dear." when she hesitated, he added, "Now, please." she briskly made her way to the spot and when seated, glanced to her mother.

"What...what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong my sweet girl, we just want to talk to you about something."

"What did I do wrong now?" she asked, thinking back desperately to all of the things she had done that could possibly bring her to this situation. All she could think of was abandoning the antlion celebration without speaking to them, and that certainly would be enough on its own to stir their anger. It was, after all, part of her punishment. It would certainly look as if she was trying to skip out on it, something her father greatly disapproved of. It was either that, or her brothers lied to them about something, or they found out about something even she forgot. She was beginning to feel very sick.

"It isn't like that," her mother insisted.

Very confused now, she asked, "Is...is it about the race?"

Her mother quickly answered her with a "Yes," but her father said, "No.". Now she was incredibly confused, and afraid. Oh! How bad was a punishment when her parents couldn't even agree on what it was. Now she was certain; whatever it was, it couldn't have been something she actually did. Her brothers had played games like that before, and she wouldn't put it passed them to do it again.

"Now, listen to me m'dear," her father started, and Emma looked to him nervously. "We are going to ask you something, and we want only the truth of it. Understand that your mother and I will know if you are lying to us, so please, just speak plainly and truly."

"Edgar," her mother warned.

"Now, Terra," he began. "I am only trying to ensure she tells us the truth of the matter, to understand its importance." he was not sharp in his tone, merely stern. Emma frightfully shrunk into the cushions of the seat and trembled. So. It was something she did, and they knew for a fact, and were trying to catch her in something. Again she tried to think on all the things she had done, but she had been so very careful. In fact, she tried to do as little as possible so as to not irk her father's ire.

Then it suddenly came to her. Cambyses' threats, about the day she had accidentally walked in on him and Cadence in the halls. She went pink, both from the embarrassment of it and the fear of what spying could bring her. "W-w-what did Camb tell you?" she asked. "I s-swear, I wasn't s-spying on him. It was an accident!"

Her father gave her a quizzical look as her mother soothed her, "What? Cambyses didn't talk to us, Emma."

"Spying?" her father repeated, brows furrowed. Oh, great, now she had told on herself and not even on something she actually intended to do. Her pink cheeks darkened. "What does he think you spied on him about?"

Unsure of how to explain the situation, she lowered her eyes. "I...I saw him and Cadence in the halls kissing."

Edgar shook his head, clearly not amused by his eldest son's behavior. "If the fool doesn't wish to be seen, he should keep his affairs private. The halls have no privacy."

"I wasn't spying father, I swear, I only—" he raised his hand to silence her and she immediately clamped her mouth shut over her words.

"Quite frankly Emma, I do not care about that right now."

"But—"

"Not another word on it," he said, a bit loudly, to make her understand that was the end of the discussion. Terra reached over to slap at his arm. Another warning. "I will get to your brothers after our talk."

Emma began to fiddle with the ends of her blouse. "What...what did I do then?"

Her father's eyes softened, but his voice was still hard. "Tell us...why did you leave the antlion celebration without even talking to your mother and I?"

"I was—"

"And remember, do not lie to us," he cut in quickly.

Emma inhaled the lie she was about to say. The truth or not, she would get in trouble. A piece of her wanted to scream the truth, but the rest of her would not let her. "I...I didn't want to stay."

"Why?" her mother asked.

"Do not tell us you were sick," her father said. "I know you weren't."

Panicking, Emma thought over excuses they would accept, that they would believe. She settled quickly. "I...the others from Sunset...they...were there." it was a truth, but not the truth they wanted. It felt so strange to begin to tell them about the bullying from her peers, but it was the only way out of the real truth that would infuriate them.

"The others?" her father prompted. "Do you mean your classmates?"

"Yes father," she mumbled, turning her eyes to her hands again.

"Why does that matter?"

Was she really about to tell them something she tried so desperately to keep secret? "They...they were being mean to me." her father gestured for her to continue. Flustered, and realizing tears were forming in her eyes, she said, "I didn't w-w-want to be around them anymore."

Her mother frowned. "Oh Emma...they have been bullying you, haven't they?" She nodded. "Why didn't you say anything to us? Of course we understand why you left, but you should have told us. We would have let you go home."

Edgar stopped the discussion there. "That explains that then, and we will get to your reasons as to why you kept this from us later."

"Yes father..."

"Good. Now," he adjusted himself in his chair. "Tell me...do you hate your brothers?"

Thrown by such a serious question, and flustered beyond belief, she stammered. "What?"

Her father repeated himself, "Do you hate your brothers?"

Emma looked at her mother, for help, but her mother's gaze was soft and yet stern. Her mother was just as much asking this question as her father. "I don't...I don't understand...what...why..."

"Answer the question, please." her father said.

"No," she cried. "Of course not...why...why would you ask that?" their silence further tore at her. "Is this b-b-because I left the race?"

Her father said, reaching into his coat, "Then explain to us why you have written it." and then, to her bewilderment, he placed a rather familiar book on the table. It took her a moment or so to understand what it was, and then fear and anger and grief flooded through her. It was all a trap, a nasty and perfectly laid trap. She had lied, not knowing they knew her deepest secrets and thoughts and feelings. Of all the things she expected, of the situation and her parents, this was not even on the list.

Tearfully she looked at her mother, feeling so completely betrayed. Terra responded to that look with a tearful frown and said, "Emma, please, my sweet girl, it isn't what it seems—"

"Why?" she asked her mother, letting her tears fall.

"It was the only way we could understand you and what is happening to you—" her father started, but Emma slapped the journal off the table and toward him. There was so much anger in her right now, she could barely think straight. Her father caught the journal, surprised, and then looked at her. "Calm yourself right this instant, young lady!"

"Or what?!" she snapped, stunning them. "You will ground me? Beat me? Or read my journal?!" she howled. "You—you have already done everything you c-could do to me!"

"Sit down this moment or I will put you over my knee, so help me—"

Terra shut her husband down quickly "Edgar, shut up!" both of them were so surprised to hear her speak like that that Edgar actually quieted and Emma turned her glare away from them. Terra rose from her seat and tried to beckon Emma. "I swear to you darling, you aren't in trouble. Your father just loses himself to his temper, but I swear to you, you are not here to be punished."

Emma finally looked at her mother, trying so very hard to keep her voice down, to hide the anger in her heart. It came through her eyes easily though, and her mother relaxed into surprise. "You lied to me." and then she turned and tried to flee from the room, but Terra hurried after her.

"Emma, wait, please!" Terra took her daughter by the arm.

"No!" she cried, and now her father boiled in his spot, getting very much so angry with her tone. "You...you lied to me! You said it was something...something only for me! And you took it and read it! Everything! How could you do that?!" she sobbed. "I...I trusted you!"

"Please, it isn't like that! I...we were just—"

"Keep the journal!" she snarled, ripping out of her mother's grasp. "I don't care anymore!"

"Enough!" her father howled, and the room stilled. He stood, brows furrowed over furious eyes. "You will retake your seat young lady, and you will do it now."

"Edgar, that isn't helping!"

"I will not repeat myself," he told Emma directly, ignoring Terra. Emma, with eyes full of tears, marched back to her spot. It was obvious to her parents, she hoped, that she was beyond furious with them. That she was about to snap. When she was seated, she moved her eyes to her feet, feeling so angry and embarrassed. Of all the people she thought would betray her like this, her parents—her mother—were the most surprising. She knew they didn't like her, but she had thought they respected things like this, even if it came to her.

Her mother quickly sat beside her and took her hands. "I know you are angry, that you feel...betrayed." her mother would never know what she felt. "But you have to listen to us...you aren't in trouble and...we...we only did this because we are so very worried about you."

Her father spoke next, and the fury in his voice had vanished. "How do you expect us to know what is going on with you otherwise? You do not speak to us, you do not tell us what pains you. You gave us no other course but this."

That made her look at her parents, alarmed. "It's my fault?"

Her father frowned. "Emma, I didn't mean it like that..."

"Your father just means we understand you don't feel right voicing your problems, or maybe it is because you don't know how, but regardless of that, the lack of knowing is what drove us to this. It isn't that we..." her mother shook her head. "Emma, we love you so very much, and it is terrifying us how you have been acting and to learn what has been happening to you. Do you understand? It worries us to no end."

"so...so you read my journal?" she asked, crying.

"What else were we to do?" her father frowned. "You refuse to speak to us."

"That's a lie!" she snapped. "I try to tell you and...and you just..."

Her mother tightened her hands on her, encouragingly. "What do we do, Emma?"

What was the point? How many times had she been here before, struggling so hard to tell them, only for it to never cross the threshold? She felt powerless, and angry, and useless. And the fact that she had been so betrayed sizzled out any desire to communicate with the people who had hurt her. To trust them. She wanted to leave, to run from the embarrassment and anger, but she feared taking that step.

What do you have to fear? Her voice whispered gently.

Emma shook her head, dispelling the voice, and then said, "It doesn't matter...I don't matter. I just want to go to my room."

"How can you say that?" her father snapped. "How can you say such horrible things about yourself?!" Terra reached over to calm him, but he shrugged her hand off his arm. "No, look at me Emma." slowly, she looked at him. "Tell me why you think that way."

It's a trick, the voice hissed.

"How?" she asked, very aware that her voice was trembling. "I know w-w-what I amount to. I'm not s-stupid! My own family thinks little of me, why should I act l-like what is said of me isn't true?!"

"No, you don't—" Terra tried to speak but Emma cut her off.

"Don't lie to me!" she cried, startling them. "I can hear you guys when you t-think that I can't! All—all the times you talked about me. All the times my brothers..." she hesitated there. "I know I am hated, that I ruined your lives, I just want to be a-allowed to forget it for just one minute."

"Now you listen here!" her father howled. "You are not allowed to think that way of yourself! And to be so foolish! Hate you?" he repeated, face burning red. "Hate you?! You little fool, your mother and I love you to the moon and back! And your brothers? Yes, they are often jackasses and unaware of their privileges—and yes, I have been blind to their torment towards you—but to say that they hate you?!" he shook his head, once again brushing off his wife's attempts to calm him down. "Do you know how cruel it is to make those assumptions of your family?" he asked her, finally calming. "Do you even care?"

"Me? Cruel?" she gaped. "They say it all of the time! They ask you to send me away all of the time, too! H-how isn't that hateful?!"

"Emma, you know your brothers—"

"No!" she cried, standing. "No! You don't get to tell me that they don't mean what they say, you don't!"

And then, as an even greater surprise than having learned they snooped through her secrets, her father said, revealing the neat trap he had laid before her, "And yet you say the very same things and say you didn't mean them."

A wave of confusion washed over her. She hadn't expected that. "What...? W-what are you..."

"You have said things in that journal that I know you do not truly feel," he continued, going forward as softly as he could. "Do you not also think that your brothers say and do things to you that they don't truly feel?

"I...I..."

"Your brothers are not like you Emma," her mother continued where her father stopped. "You are a very intelligent girl, but you are too quiet, despite all of that insightfulness within you. You are passionate and gentle, but your brothers grew up differently than you. They grew to understand that when the other said something hurtful to them it was spur of the moment, from anger. It is our fault you never got to experience that and you are not in trouble for not understanding the complexities of something you never had. This conversation isn't about hurting you, or wronging you. We just want you to talk to us, to understand now that when we do something like reschedule a day with you or not see your brothers' messing with you, is not because we don't love you. We are...we are only human Emma, and we try our very best."

Letting her tears fall, she stammered, "Why?" they looked at her, confused. "Why then...why d-do you let them do it, o-over and over again?" and it was if a wall had broken. She could not keep her tears in check, or hold back the grief and anger. She felt ashamed. She had promised herself long ago never to show this to anyone, to her parents, to avoid causing a scene or making their lives stressful, and yet it happened.

Of all the time and places...the gods had quite a humorous taste on how to deal with her.

Her father took her into an embrace first, holding her so tight it hurt her. "I am so sorry," he whispered, and startling her, she could hear him crying. "I am so sorry, Emma."

Her mother reached out to touch her shoulder. "We have not been...attentive." she said after a moment's pause. "We swear to you though, it ends now, but Emma...you cannot keep doing this this."

For this, her father released her from the embrace, but held her firm an arm's length away, staring sternly. Emma frowned. "Do...doing what?"

"Bottling everything up," her father answered. "That will also end here and now. You will talk to us from now on, every second of the day if need be, but your mother and I will not have this again. If so much as a word gets said to you that unsettles you to the slightest, you will inform us. And that means, if someone hurts you or makes fun of you, you will tell us. That especially goes when it happens at the academy."

"But—"

Her protest was instantly stopped. "No," her mother said, sounding uncharacteristically stern. "You will not argue with us on this Emma. In this, even I will not budge for you."

Emma, sniffling, rubbed at her nose and looked down. "What...what about Camb? And Ben?" her parents asked her what she meant. "Will...will they be angry with me?"

It took her parents a second to realize what she was talking about, and immediately paled. Her father spoke first. "You think we showed your journal to them?"

Very confused, she asked, "You...didn't?"

Terra sounded disgusted, so completely offended. "Why in the world would we do something like that?"

Ask yourself why they even read it, her voice hissed.

There was something about what her voice said that stuck with her. What was the difference in violating her privacy as opposed to letting her brothers engage in it to? Where was the steep difference? In many ways, it felt much worse that her own parents had done it. Her brothers would not have surprised her.

Emma held their gaze as long as she felt brave enough to, and then glanced toward the door, wishing to flee. The day's events had tired her out so completely, and if she could avoid her brothers for today—or for the rest of her life, even!—she would gladly take it. She wanted to do something to make her parents banish her to her room, but even the energy for that seemed to entirely dissipate.

Her father reached to make her look at him, gently. "You mean everything to your mother and I...what we did today was wrong, yes, but we were so frightened we felt no other way to solve this. It doesn't make it right, it...it is just our flawed reasoning in a horrible situation. With that said, we would never expose your secrets, your private life, to your brothers. It is not their concern. It is between us."

Oh, is it now? Her voice asked, amused.

So, they didn't share her journal with her brothers and this wasn't to punish her...but then, what was it about? Emma asked, hesitantly, "So...I'm not in trouble?"

Her mother laughed and then answered, "No dear, you aren't." How disappointing that this was one of the incredibly rare times she was not. She knew a few words here could change that. She dug for the words that might upset her father just enough to keep her from school, but immediately second guessed it. She sighed, and her father caught it. Luckily enough, he misunderstood it as being relieved, rather than annoyed.

He chuckled. "Alright, we have kept you long enough..." he kissed her forehead. "Your mother will take you back to the kitchen and Emma," he called, when they began to leave. "Remember...we love you."

••••••••••••

When they were clear of the foyer, her mother glanced at her and said, "I'm sorry, dear."

Emma looked at her. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, frowning. "Your father took it without consulting me, I hadn't know, but...even then...I chose to read it, to learn what is happening with you. Whatever my intentions were, I know I was in the wrong. And for that, I am sorry."

Emma didn't know what to say to that. She hadn't ever heard her parents apologize to her for something they had done, and she wasn't sure if pointing that out further by vocally accepting their apologies would be good either.

Her mother seemed to understand some part of the silence, and did not press it from there. Instead, they walked quietly back to the main hall. Emma kept wondering during the walk how much of the journal her parents had read, and prayed to the gods they had the decency to stop before before reaching the end.

Suddenly though her mother grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Now, Emma..." she felt her nerves freeze. What now?! "Your father thought it best to tell you here, and for what reasons I have no idea, but..." her mother took a breath. "Although you are not in trouble, you must still apologize to your brothers."

"What?" she gaped. "W-why? You said you didn't tell them—"

"It isn't about the journal," her mother interrupted her, placing a hand on her cheek. "I promise. This is about leaving the race without talking to us, or telling your brothers. It was a special day for them, and as annoying and hard headed as they may be and although they may never voice it, they really wanted you to be there."

Emma knew it was wrong to leave the moment she decided to do it, but she just couldn't face it. She tried to apologize to them, but they had been so cold earlier. It stole all her courage away. "but...I...I tried."

Her mother sighed. "I will note your grammar later," it was then that Emma realized her mother was tired. "For now, all you need to do is say sorry to them and for why you are sorry. If they ignore you, that is okay."

And without letting her get another word in, her mother drew the doors open and practically dragged her into the room. Her brothers were finished eating, but were still seated, talking quietly to each other, laughing even.

"Boys," Terra said, catching their attention. Emma shrunk back when their eyes pierced her, and hid behind her mother. "Your sister has something to say to you." and when she realized her daughter had hidden away, she turned and guided into their view. "Well, Emma?"

She lowered her eyes, knowing very well her cheeks were red as tomatoes. "I'm...I'm sorry," she whispered. Her mother patted her shoulder, clearly telling her to do better. She chewed her lip, and then amended herself. "I'm sorry for missing your c-celebration. It...it was selfish of me."

Benjamin caved and smiled. "It's okay Emma. You probably weren't feeling too well, anyhow."

Nervously, she looked at her oldest brother, waiting. He glared at her, and then shook his head and got up. "Whatever, doesn't matter anymore." he grabbed his things off the table. "I shouldn't expect more from children."

"Cambyses!" their mother hissed.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," he almost snapped. "It's okay, anyhow. I don't care about it, let's not make it a big deal."

Terra clapped her hands together, smiling brightly. "See? There isn't a problem that cannot be solved through discussion." at this, all of her children rolled her eyes. "Now, Emma, let us get you something to eat. Boys, would you like more?"

••••••••••••

When they were finished with their breakfast, Emma twisted on her seat and then leapt to the floor. Terra caught it.

"Emma Aden Aria Figaro!" the girl turned to her, blushing. "I will never see you do that again, do you understand me?" her daughter's cheeks were so red. Terra giggled and ruffled her hair a little. "You will kill me from the worry, dear. Alright," she handed her daughter her satchel. "Go wait outside by the carriages. Your brothers will be out shortly, I just need to talk to them first."

As expected, her sons looked at her, surprised. Her daughter was ever quizzical though. "Why?"

"Adult matters," she simply said, turning her daughter toward the exit. "Now run along. Do as you are told." Emma sighed and then hurried off. When Terra was thoroughly convinced her daughter had left, and was not lurking, she turned to her sons. "Your father and I need to talk to you, in the foyer." There were initial protests with their reasoning being that they did not want to be late, but she hurried them along with a dogged determinedness.

When they arrived, her husband was sitting in the same spot, though at the moment he was reading the news with great attention. He caught sight of them and then sat the paper down before quickly adjusting the collar of his shirt, loosening it. He leaned back. "Ah, boys...good, good. Sit please, we have something important to discuss."

Terra waited for them to find a seat opposite of her husband before she joined him. ""What's going on?" Benjamin asked.

"This will not take long," Edgar said.

"Father, we are grown men," Cambyses grumbled. "We shouldn't be guided to our father by our mother like we're still children."

"You two, grown men?" he asked, brows furrowing. "Do not speak so highly of yourselves when you treat your baby sister the way that you do."

Cambyses was annoyed immediately. "What did the little snot lie about now?"

Terra looked at her son, wondering how the situation between her children got so bad without them noticing. What had caused this divide between them? Did Emma say something, do something? Did the boys?

"Why do you just assume that?" she asked him, a little angrily. "She didn't come to us with anything. In fact, that is part of the problem here."

"What do you mean?" Ben said.

"Your mother is referring to the fact that no matter what you do to or say to your sister, she takes it, and that she doesn't ever come to us."

"That's bullshit," Cambyses said. "She runs to you two all of the time about us."

"You mean when you are chasing her?" Terra asked, feeling defensive of her little girl. "Yes, because your physical 'teasing' is anything but innocent, but when you two torment her about her looks or how she sounds? She says nothing to us!"

"If she didn't say anything to you, why are we here now?" he challenged, unfazed by his mother's spark of anger, of protectiveness for her daughter. "She whined to you about something, you just won't tell us what."

"Enough!" Edgar snapped, slamming a hand down onto the table. "Why are all my children so disrespectful, so stubborn?" that seemed enough for the moment to quiet his eldest son. "Tell me Cambyses, when was the last time she 'whined' to us about the things you two have said to her?" Terra shifted in her spot, a little uncomf4ortable by this confrontation, but even more so by the uncharacteristic annoyance and anger of her husband. If his anger could only be spared for his children, she could deal with it well enough. "Well?" he pressed.

Cambyses frowned. "You expect me to keep note of it all?"

"When?!" Edgar pressed again, louder. Terra looked at her sons, and they were getting pink in the face. "That is exactly what I thought. You know she has never once snitched on what you tease her for, not even when you make her cry, or when you make kids at the academy torment her. You know just how much she adores you, that she would never turn our anger towards you. You know it, and yet you abuse it all the same."

Benjamin tried to speak, "Father, please, we were just—"

"Teasing?" he cut in, glaring. Benjamin looked down, ashamed. "Your teasing has made your little sister cry...was that the intent?"

"No, of course not!" Benjamin shouted, angrily.

"Was it your intent to make others tease her then?"

He blushed. "I...it's kinda funny when she gets teased, because of how she reacts. We...we didn't mean any harm. We just thought it was funny...adorable even..."

Terra put her eyes on her oldest. He had been very quiet. "Cambyses?"

"What do you want me to say?" he asked them, hot with anger. "We were just teasing her. It isn't our fault if she takes quite literally everything said to her as some serious insult. Even you teased your brother father, and yet we are supposed to believe it is some great evil now?"

"I never made my brother cry," Edgar pointed out softly. "Or feel as if he means less than others."

"Neither have we," Camb said. "Emma just needs to learn it is in good nature."

"No!" Edgar snapped. "You need to learn to be better brothers."

"What?!" Cambyses was on his feet. "You can't be serious! I have wasted countless hours on her! Days when I couldn't go to training in Thamasa! Hours wasted on walking her back home because she just didn't feel like riding in a carriage! Days when I neglected my own fun, or my own schedules, because she had some sort of melt down and you two pushed me to watch her! Do not tell me I have not been a good brother when I have dropped everything to deal with her and her stupid little issues!"

"Cambyses, don't say that—" Terra tried to speak, but he cut her off.

"What, tell the truth?" he said. "We all have to drop everything for that girl's every crazy whim! It is at a point where Benjamin and I can't eat things because she can't, to a point where she knows stamping her foot will get your attention and what she wants!"

"Are you serious?!" Terra cried. "The things you can't eat is only because she's allergic to them! She's terrified!"

"So your genius answer was to take the problematic food away from everyone, because little Emma insanely thinks she could have an allergic reaction from being near it?!"

"Cambyses, come on man, please," Benjamin reached to touch his arm. "Drop it, she'd die if she ingested that stuff. She's just afraid, most kids are about it."

Camb flung his arm away. "To that extent? No. How about we teach the idiot how it works instead? Then I can eat strawberries in my own damn home!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Benjamin snarled. "She's a kid! Did you think rationally of things that scared you when you were her age? No, I distinctly remember that you didn't!"

"Enough, enough!" Edgar shouted, shaking his head. "This is exactly my point, Cambyses. You don't think it's cruel to talk of her like that?" Terra shrunk at the angry expression on her son's face. "All your mother and I want you to understand here is that you have taken your teasing too far, and have engaged in it far too frequently."

"I don't see how it is our problem what she can't comprehend," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course I don't mean the things I tease her about, that's the whole point of it. I cannot help it if she thinks otherwise."

"You could help it," Terra said. "You could help it by being more mindful of the things you say, or perhaps make it known to her that you don't mean them, that you just like to tease her."

"I do do that!" he said, frustrated. "Not every single time I tease her, but I do!"

"You do?" Edgar asked, frowning. "I have never heard you do that."

"Come on..." he said, getting even more frustrated.

"Camb, they are right," Benjamin said, looking at his brother with such an expression it caught Terra off guard. "I...I didn't think our teasing was causing problems. I didn't think...that's the problem. Now that I think about it...we do tease her a lot."

"We're just messing around," Camb said. "We don't mean any harm."

"So what if we don't if she's not understanding we don't mean what we say?" he asked quietly.

"This is absurd," he objected, standing. "Even father teased his brother. You guys cannot tell me what we have done is some evil..."

And, without consulting her first, her husband said, "Cambyses...she thinks you two hate her." that made her sons look at him with alarm. "She thinks that you two say these things because you do not want her around anymore."

"That's...that's..." Benjamin couldn't finish his sentence. He looked away.

"We hate her?" Cambyses asked, stressing the word. "You two can't be serious! You buy that? Of course we don't hate her! I know you two can't say the same about her though."

Terra and Edgar looked at him, alarmed. Cambyses laughed, annoyed. "You think you are the only ones that read her journal?" he shook his head. "She has said she hated us many times in that thing...yet you sit here and complain to us that she thinks we hate her, and over nothing?"

"How dare you," Terra cried. "How dare you invade her privacy like that!"

"You two did it just fine!" he shouted. "Why are we always being criminalized because of her?!"

Edgar was on his feet immediately, face so red it looked ready to implode. "Because she is a damn child and you two are adults!" the anger in him was obvious even for Cambyses. He backed down immediately at his father's anger. "She is different from you, she doesn't understand things the way that you and your brother do! Don't you understand?! For gods' sake Cambyses, she doesn't even understand idioms or metaphors, and you think it is a stretch for her to not know when you saying something cruel to her you don't mean it?!

"But that's—"

"How can you even compare the two?!" he challenged his eldest. "She says those things because she's hurt and frustrated by the things you say to her! You know she could never mean a shred of it, that she's just releasing emotions, and yet you think you can compare her saying it about you to her feeling as if you two—grown men who do nothing but torment her—hate her?!"

"Don't bring this up again," Cambyses said. "I have proven time and time again I do not hate her! I don't!"

"Then why?" he asked angrily. "Why must you argue it? Why must you every day tease her and tease her? Why can't you just stop?!"

The silence that fell among them after such a lengthy and heated argument was awkward, for everyone. The death glare match between her husband and eldest son was just as uncomfortable as the silence. Terra shifted again, and looked at their faces, thinking. "Alright," she said after a moment. "We have at least come to the conclusion that there is no real bad blood felt." the grumbled replies were taken as her answer. She continued. "Now we just need to talk about how to resolve the misunderstanding...right?" again, grumbles. "I think the first step is apologizing to Emma."

That was immediately met with resistance from her eldest. "Come on mother, you know I hadn't meant any ill will, I was just—"

"Cambyses," Benjamin cut in. "You know you have to. We have to. I don't want my little sister thinking that I hate her...that makes me feel horrible. Doesn't it for you? As annoying and spoiled and know-it-all as she is, she's my little sister and...and I love her."

It was then that her eldest son warmed from his annoyance and anger. He frowned. "Of course I love her Ben...I just..."

"Then let's just apologize to her," he said. "You know she didn't mean what she wrote, otherwise you would have brought it up long ago."

Edgar reseated himself and crossed his arms. "Regardless of whether or not you decide to act your age and apologize," his sons looked at him. "From here on out, I will not tolerate the teasing you two have had with her. I simply won't."

"Father, we don't mean any harm—"

"She is my daughter," Edgar snapped. "And I will not tolerate anyone—and I mean anyone—making her cry anymore, do you understand me?!" he gestured to the door, his eyes ablaze again. "And so help me, if you disregard my warning, there will be severe punishments. Do not test me."

Cmabyses raised his hands, to settle his father down. "Calm down father, calm down. I think we are all on the same page now, we just—"

"Then the first thing you will do when leaving is find your sister and apologize," Edgar said, rising. "If I find out that you hadn't, well..." he took a breath. "You are dismissed." he turned and left the room, stiffly. Terra knew he was beyond exhausted from the confrontation, and probably even a little embarrassed by his own part in it, but she would deal with it later. She got up and escorted the boys back to the main hall and then out to the carriages.

Emma was sitting at the stone table with two guards, one of them being Jakle. She was drinking quietly from a tall glass of iced tea when they approached. Jakle stood, and bowed. "Your majesty."

Terra waved him from attention. "Good morning, Jakle. Please, would you give me and my children a moment alone?" he nodded and hurried out of sight and earshot. When the man was gone, Terra looked at her daughter and giggled. She was still drinking at her iced tea, and eating cracker cookies between each drink. She walked over and ruffled her daughter's hair, which was just enough to rip her attention away from her pleasant snacks.

She swatted at the irritating hands, but it wasn't until Terra said, "Emma, my sweet, put that aside for a moment and face me and your brothers." with a puff, clearly agitated, she turned the chair so she was facing them. "Good. The boys," she gestured to them, and they ducked their eyes, embarrassed. "Have something important to tell you. Don't you boys?"

Emma looked at them with round, confused eyes. "What does s-she mean?"

Benjamin was the first to speak. He stepped forward and ducked his head. "Emma...I am sorry." she frowned, and asked for what. "For all of the teasing I have played on you. I never thought about how you might be taking it, or that you might think I didn't care for you because of it." Terra pinked and looked at her daughter. She had forgotten to tell the boys to not mention that they were aware Emma had said such things. Emma looked at her with the saddest eyes. Terra tried to mouth out her explanation, but it was useless. "I don't hate you...in fact, that's why I teased you. I loved getting you to react." he looked at her. "I'm sorry, really. Do you forgive me?"

Her daughter moved her mismatched eyes to her brother and offered him a small smile. "Of c-c-course I do Benja...Ben." he smiled back, and then cleared the distance to roughly scruff up her hair.

"That's my sister," he said, laughing. She shoved his hands away and went to fix her hair, yet again. Terra smiled. Perhaps things were not so bad yet, perhaps she and Edgar had intervened before it was too late.

Cambyses cleared his throat then and said, "Aye, I'm sorry too. I didn't think you would misinterpret anything we did...I should have known better." Terra was about ready to run over and clobber him. How was that an apology?! "We only tease you because we care...just so you know. If we get out of line again, just kick our bal—"

"Ahem!" Terra stopped him there, passing him a look to shut up. He at least had the sense to do that.

"Right," he mumbling, itching at his neck, awkwardly. "I am sorry, Emma."

It didn't surprise her when her daughter's eyes filled with tears. Her daughter was naturally a very emotionally person even if it was hard for her to express it sometimes, but it did surprise her when her eldest son shifted uncomfortably and went over to bring her into a half hug. Terra relaxed from her earlier anger with him. Perhaps he was only being direct in his wording because he knew Emma needed it? Terra felt so ashamed in herself for thinking her son would use an apology to further degrade his sister.

My children, she thought, watching them. I am so blessed.

"Alright," Cambyses mumbled, letting her go and taking a few steps away from her, as if the contact would set him ablaze. "Enough crying already, sheesh." Emma sniffed and rubbed at her nose, before hurrying to him and hugging him again. Cambyses pinked and peeled her away. "Enough, enough! I'm not a girl, you know, let go."

Emma finally let him go, still rubbing tears away at her eyes and sniffing. Terra smiled and walked over to kiss her eldest son on the cheek—further embarrassing him—before kneeling in front of her daughter. "Promise me," she whispered. "Promise me that you will tell me what happens today at the academy, when you come back." the look in her daughter's eyes told her everything she needed to know. Her daughter wouldn't. She sighed. "Well, I will see you then and we will talk." she planted kisses all over her face.

"Mother! Mother, stop it!" she begged, even as the boys were laughing loudly at the display. "Please!" she cried, indignantly. Finally Terra stopped, and while laughing, stood back up.

She pinched her daughter's little cheeks. "How can I help myself? I have the most adorable daughter a mother could ask for."

Emma leaned out of her mother's reach, eyes closed. "I'm not a b-b-baby anymore!"

"No," she said, her heart aching. "No you aren't. You are growing into quite a little lady, aren't you?" she felt the pain of that on every level, and sighed. "And little ladies need be educated. Boys, help your sister into the carriage and be sure she is kept out of trouble today." she thanked her sons and then wished her children a good day. She did not move from her spot until the carriage drew far out of sight, and only then did she move.

She had tears in her eyes when she made it back to the foyer. She had wanted a moment alone before her husband came back to clear herself of her grief, but he had arrived only a minute or so after she did. As soon as he saw the state she was in, he hurried over and took her into a hug.

"Now my dear wife, why are you crying?" he drew her apart so he could look her in the eyes. "Tell me what has wronged you so that I might make it right."

She laughed and rubbed away her tears. "Edgar...I know I should be thankful for the time I have now but I...I just wish I had more time with her."

He frowned, understanding. "Terra...I know it hurts, but there is nothing we can do about the time missed. You are only going to hurt yourself worrying about it. Regardless," he laughed. "You have all the time in the world to be with her. Do you think she will leave us when she is older? The girl is a little too dependent on her family. She will be with you until the end of days, I swear to you."

"No," she cried. "No she won't. There will come a time Edgar when a man has captured her heart, and she will leave with him. To start her own family, with little babies of her own...and I will know I have deprived her of that experience, of having a mother around when she was still needing of it."

"Now you listen here," he said, sternly. "Our daughter was sick and...and...different," he said with his own grief. "We had no other choice. Emma understands it, in some way. Besides, our daughter, marry? Thank the gods that will never happen." he chuckled. "She will be here with us forever."

"Oh, Edgar!" Terra slapped at his arm and pulled away. "How can you say that? Don't you want your daughter to have what we have, what every other person has? To have a family? To know the friendship and love of another?"

He blushed. "If I could have my way, no. She would be eight or so for the rest of her life. I will have no man charming my daughter."

Terra knew he was only half serious, and giggled. "From what we read, it is already too late. She's found a boy to latch onto. It is only a matter of time before her whole world revolves around him."

"Ah, don't remind me!" he groaned. "My little girl, with her first crush?! It kills me!"

And for just a while, the pain started to hurt less for Terra. The thought of her daughter finding something Terra never thought she would get made her overrun with relief and pride. The little girl who had preferred watching stag beetles than to try and talk with her little classmates was finding a path in life, and that was all Terra ever hoped and prayed for. For her little girl to be happy, in whatever way it could be achieved.

"It kills me too," she said, taking him into a hug.

••••••••••••

The day had only been a few hours old for her, and yet she was exhausted beyond belief. Of all the ways to start a day, this had been the worst so far for her. Her thoughts kept carrying back to her journal, and whether or not her parents had read all of it. If they had, she couldn't see how they would not confront her further—and actually be angry with her. It wasn't as if she spoke ill of anyone, at least within the family, but she had kept secret from them the depths of bullying she received from her peers, and harassment from the council.

And now she knew, despite her parents telling her they would not show nor speak of her journal to her brothers, that they had lied. Benjamin's words had prove that. She glanced at them from her spot. Benjamin was lounging back, seemingly asleep. Her oldest brother was reading a tan leathered book, distracted. They didn't seem angry. They didn't seem annoyed. She frowned and looked away. Maybe she was wrong, maybe Benjamin just understand.

No, she thought sadly. How did they even know how I felt about their behavior? Her parents had definitely confronted her brothers on their behavior, but to what extent? She sighed and leaned her head against the glass of the carriage, and when the moving trees made her sick, closed her eyes. She fell asleep rather quickly.

When she woke next, it was because her brother Benjamin was gently shaking her awake. "Come on," he said urgently. "We are going to be late because of you if you don't get up now."

Emma shifted up straight and rubbed her eyes. "Okay...I'm sorry." she stretched and then carefully climbed out of the carriage. Cambyses was already walking far ahead of them, briskly. Benjamin noticed her staring, and frowned.

"We're a bit late. Our professors tear the skin off our backs for it, so he's just trying to hurry."

Emma appreciated his worry over her concern, and smiled at him. "I...I understand." she fixed her hair, knowing it was messy, and asked, "Aren't you late for class, too?"

He laughed. "Of course, but I don't particularly care for class. Everything they teach, I know. That which I don't know, I don't care for. I am sure it is quite enjoyable for others to find their trade in life, but I have already found what makes me happy." Emma giggled at her brother's explanation. "Besides, I'm not gonna just leave you here." he held his arm out. "Come on, I'll walk you to class." Astonished, she could only stare at him. "What?" he asked, frowning. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Why...why would you walk me to class?"

"Because I'm your big brother, of course!"

"But...but you never have before."

He flinched at her honesty, but smiled. "I was a more blind brother then. You can't expect me to walk away from this morning as if it were any other day, Emma. I don't know if you took me seriously before, but I am sorry. I could never hate you, no matter how grating you can be sometimes." he teased, smirking.

Tearfully she jumped on him, hugging him tightly. He gasped and, ashamed by the display, started to peel her off of him. "Emma!" he hissed under his breath. "Enough, enough, not at the academy, okay?"

Emma giggled and let him go. "Okay."

And so began the second part of her day. Her brother walked her to her first class and explained to the professor, who immediately began to chew Emma out for being tardy, that she is sickly and will be allowed these instances-or he would report him and the academy to their father. The professor shut his mouth over that and pointed to a free chair for Emma. Benjamin waved goodbye and then was gone.

By the time that the first class was through though, the happiness she had gotten from knowing her brothers did, in fact, care for her was destroyed. As she was exiting the mathematics class, one of her peers cornered her and forced her into a corner with two of his friends. Emma knew only one of them; Kysle D'entello. He had become a common face in the halls as an aggressor for her ever since she started at the academy, but she had never gotten the names of his friends.

"Well, if it isn't the princess," Kysle sneered. "Hasn't anyone told you yet that dogs stay outside of buildings?"

Emma lowered her eyes. "I...I need to get to class, Kysle."

He smashed his palm into the wall beside her. "Quiet! You don't get to be formal with me!"

"I'm s-sorry," she mumbled. The bells started to ring loudly then, interrupting their scuffle.

Kysle scuffed and backed away. "We will continue this later." and then he turned with his friends and off they went. Emma released the breath she had held and slouched against the wall, once again exhausted. Her brothers being an issue might have been solved, but she still had an academy full of them. She couldn't even hide from them. They always sought her out. What was so fun about tormenting her anyway? How much longer could they derive amusement from calling her this and that, or hurting her? It had been months and yet they persisted as if they had begun the day before.

There wasn't a lot that Emma understood about others, or their societal escapades, but she knew that the only way to get away from them would be to graduate, or to leave. And considering she did not find the idea of releasing her education, her only hope was to persist until graduation and then pull through Golden Lion under the same turmoil, or find a way to graduate both Sunset and Lion more quickly than her peers.

She was already ahead of her peers, to the chagrin of her professors. She had begun reading next level curricula back in Thamasa, but it had been arriving in Figaro that she found that was not acceptable. She had to do it in secret to the academy, though her father was determined about saying something to Sunset about how absurd it is to control a student into not learning something ahead of did it for two reasons; to prove she was an adult now and because she found it challenging and engaging.

It was a hope though, that when she felt able enough, she could present her knowledge to the dean of the academy, and to her parents, and prove to them that she was ready to graduate and leave Sunset behind. She also had near perfect attendance records, except for when she was sickly or became sickly during class, plus she had perfect grades...well, perfect enough. She couldn't quite grasp some portions of grammar and social studies. And even though Sunset Academy was the sister entry level to Golden Lion, and shared in the intense radiance of success stories as Golden Lion, Emma found no challenge in it. There was no fun, no desire to continue. She could only dream of and be envious of the curricula her brothers were undergoing.

Realizing her daydreaming of another academy, still years off, was pointless she hurried to her next class as quickly as she dared to move down the smooth stoned halls. For now, she would need to deal with the strange social structures of the school—and the downsides of them. Golden Lion and its preparatory sister school, Sunset, were after all elite academies. Built from the ground up for the rich and powerful in mind, from political figure heads, scholars, high ranking soldiers, inventors, mayors, lords and even royalty, the schools had no ground for low ranking poor. And, even though the academies comprised only of the rich and powerful, they had still managed to build a class system. It came without saying of course that, somehow, Emma had fallen to the very bottom of the ladder—equal, almost, with the bastard children of high lords.

It was of no concern to her peers that she was the princess of Figaro—first daughter in three generations. Well, it would have, had she been normal, had she lived in Figaro all her life. But she hadn't. She spent her life abroad, on a tiny island out of sight, and coming back to Figaro had made her already stark appearance stand out even further. There was no room for someone so strange as her, with green hair and mismatched eyes, or sharp canines and pointed ears. No. Figaro was a place of the kempt, of the powerful and rich. And it was not nice to make them look at something so bizarre. She was a cursed subject, but somehow people still managed to find a way to discuss her, often regardless of the stigma they put on her themselves.

And that had brought her so much pain and grief. She could not recall a time entering the educational system where she was not bullied. As far back as she could remember, and admittedly she could not remember a lot as well, she had been the subject of ridicule and torment for her differences. From being shoved into objects, shoved to the ground or tripped, had food flicked at her or her own food thrown into her face, locked into rooms and laughed at over her physical appearance, it had filled almost every moment outside of the castles that had made up her life. If they were not laughing over her green hair and mis-matched eyes, they were mocking her teeth with their fingers or using pens and sticks or other such objects against the sides of their heads to mock her pointed ears.

She sighed and looked out the tall, wide windows of the class room. The class was busy jotting down what the professor was explaining to notice her distant stare. She had already read the subject material, and penned in the answers to the questions on that one single sheet of paper he had handed out at the start of class. There was no sense in worrying about the answers for her, she knew she had gotten them right. No. The thing that was worrying her right now was far from her studies. It was getting away from her peers, as quickly as she could.

The bell rang then, and the other children began filing out of the room. Emma knew better than to stay in the sight of her professors—they had been instructed by the guard, and her parents, not to let her run about—and made her way to the outer reach of the file, and thankfully due to her height, was able to briskly escape the room without attention. The halls were relatively easy to escape through today, as everyone was distracted by the tournament show. It was a monthly event, and it held the breath of all students, even those on the lower end of acceptance. Everyone was proud of their academy's tournaments, but more important, a student from each class would enter to represent them.

Now Emma? She could not find the amusement in it, and was often at a loss for the showmanship the others portrayed during the events. Even the girls seemed to be really into it. It honestly annoyed her to have to wade through the day under their reveling. The bells suddenly rung, breaking her from her thoughts. She followed far behind the others to the outside, where the academy too their evening break.

Emma had made this a routine almost immediately upon joining the school. She pressed her way between the tables and benches, from the loud and obnoxious kids, to the far southern part of the garden, where the great willows stood almost as a protective shield around the garden. She crawled her way carefully up the steep hill and sat beneath the shade. With utmost care, she took her satchel and sat it down beside her, then she removed her books and the little tin carrying her pencils and erases, and then empty notebooks until finally the rectangular tin box was in her hands. With a smile, she opened the tin.

The inside was divided into four sections. The top left was comprised of three slices of turkey, the top right peas (Emma loved peas!), the bottom left of apple and peach slices and the bottom right a chewy, tasty, chocolate cookie. Left lying on the top of the food was a little note left from her mother. She opened it first.

"My sweet Emma, may you have a wonderful day. I love you my dear little pumpkin. Mom."

Emma blushed and folded the note up neatly, and then sealed it away inside of one of her non-educational books. Of course, when she began eating, she started with the delicious turkey, then the peas, then the fruit and then finally the delicious cookie. It was rare enough to eat snacks, but her mother's cooking? Emma ate with great appreciation. When she was through, she replaced everything back into her satchel and leaned into the bark to watch the kids below her scurrying about their activities.

The tall silhouettes of Veva and Arcy caught her attention first. They were busying themselves over the registry stand for the tournament. Both Veva and Arcy had been studying martial arts for the last year, and were very proud of that. Going so far as to mention it to every one they met any chance that they could. They were among the top five of the girls, too, and were not afraid to bring that up either. Of course, the girls of the academies would never get to compete with the men, they had their own bracket. It was never going to be public knowledge just how little the girls were trained in different subjects, even education, compared to the girls. Emma found that saddening, and felt a little pity for the girls, even should they be vile to her day after day. To train so hard to not be able to be taken seriously must hurt.

Her eyes roamed then, and stopped when she saw her brothers and the other boys putting together the platform just down the hill. She had forgotten them in the day's events. Well, at least she didn't have to worry about leaving the celebration anymore. They didn't seem angry with her.

After the boys were finished with the platform, they took seats or walked away until the matches could be organized. Her brothers had stayed relatively near each other. And to her surprised, Cadence was standing beside her oldest brother. They looked like they were in a rather important discussion, because her brother wasn't talking a lot. Emma giggled at that. Her brother was being scolded. Her other brother was seated, and drinking. He seemed completely at ease. It was a little weird how different her brothers were to each other. Benjamin was always more relaxed whereas her oldest brother always seemed to have something on his mind.

Emma couldn't help but feel bitter at that, and she wasn't even entirely sure why. What did her brothers have to worry about, least of all at the academy? Their professors adored them, they got perfect grades, they had the adoration and respect of their peers and the intelligence and physical strength to be more than a nuisance. And the benefit of being a man.

Again she sighed and rested her head in hand as she looked away from her siblings. It hadn't been her intention to look for him, not at all, but when her eyes fell on him, she could not look away. She stiffened and tucked her knees up against her chest, suddenly very self-conscious and nervous. Lucas Duan. He was standing beside his younger brother, Eric, with a towel draped around his bare shoulders. His dark chestnut hair had been cut short, granting a sharper look to his emerald eyes and long, sharp nose.

It was confusing, the way he made her feel. She didn't care much for the reasons the other girls liked him. In fact, she didn't quite understand their reasoning. What was so special about his hair, and the way it was cut short? Why did his nose make them crazy? And why the tan? She had heard Veva once describe his skin "like butter pecan", and Emma tried to tell her his skin could not be butter pecan. The girls had laughed at her about that for days. Emma liked him because he was kind to her whenever they did speak, and smart. Smarter than any other boy in her class, at least. He also had the same interests as her. Love of music, of history, and of culture. He was a bit older than the other boys though, having missed the chance to study in Golden Lion by a year—the rumor was that he had traveled the world with his father, to help with their business—and so he had to spend one year in Sunset first.

Emma, smiling, relaxed into her hand and watched as the young man began pre-game warmups. She hadn't been paying attention at all, so when her brother Benjamin began to setup to the platform, she gaped stupidly. It started! Oh good! She was nice and far away, and out of the sight of Macron. Surely this could be another physical education she could avoid, however she had to do it.

And to her dismay, her brother's opponent was none other than Eric Duan, Lucas' younger brother. He was almost as popular in the academy as his brother, and he usually had a gaggle of girls following him around too. Contrast to his brother though, he had dark hair, almost black, and his green eyes were considerably pale. He was lanky where his brother was broad of shoulder, round in face where his brother was lean.

Her brother suddenly shed from his shirt, and she made a disgusted face and turned her eyes from him to the younger Duan brother. He had no shirt on either, and she didn't quite understand the need to gawk like the other girls, but it was certainly better to look at than her own brother.

The match itself was intense, but incredibly short winded. Benjamin had the benefit of being drilled since childhood by their uncle, a renowned martial artist known for saving the world. This lanky boy had only a year of practice behind him, and it didn't show as it would on others. Eric approached her brother with great uncertainty, and a rattling stance. Benjamin remained in place, in an iron-clad stance, eyes furrowed in deep concentration.

Then Eric moved, and with good enough speed, but her brother was faster and stronger. He twisted into a side step and grabbed Eric's arm, then he hauled the boy over his shoulder and tossed him to his back. Emma flinched. That looked like it hurt...quite a lot. The match went on for two more rounds, and her brother won each of them. The second victory had been by knocking Eric to the floor with restrained punches, and the last a sweeping leg kick.

The coordinator rang a bell, and shouted, "Enough, prince Benjamin, enough. You did well, but next time try not to leave your left so open, and do not be so cocky. Your strength is something to be proud of, but but do not forgot yourself. You must always think ahead, anticipate." Benjamin nodded. "And you, Eric," he turned to the lad. "You did well today, too. You must not always be so afraid to move, to strike. You have good form for being so new, but you need the resolve and strength to back it. It isn't enough alone to think on your opponent."

"Yes, sir," Eric mumbled.

"Alright then, dismissed. The next round will be," he looked over his clip-board and turned toward the group of boys. "Benson and Dirk, then Hash and Landan and then his majesty Cambyses and Lucas."

Lucas was stretching to the side, several feet from his brother. Emma blushed and brought her legs up against her chest, to rest her chin on the knees. She didn't know what to do about the way she felt thinking of him, or seeing him. It made her chest feel tight, and made her heart race. She only knew she liked this boy for unexplainable reasons, or well, beyond what she knew, and knew he would never even look her way—that the other girls currently trying to surround him were usually the objects of his attention. Who would want to speak to someone like her anyway? Who would like her?

It was enough for her to get to be in the same classes, or to occasionally hear his voice. Perhaps, if she were patient and faithful in the gods, it could move even an inch forward into something else. Unlikely, she knew, but there was a piece of her that could not help but hope.

Just then her oldest brother marched onto the platform, rotating his arms, stretching. She had zoned out, and missed the other matches. Camb's eyes looked so much like their father's when he was caught in something that took his full attention. It was strange sometimes for Emma to see it, it was almost as if she were looking right at their father. It was no wonder he was picked, the way he projected royalty and strength, just like the current king and those before him.

Then came Lucas Duan. His expression was one of disinterest, and the stare he gave her brother was almost cold had she suspected it was just out of competitive natures. The sunlight caught his dark skin well, enough for the girls to swoon immediately when he was standing at attention before the prince. Her brother and Lucas' hands were wrapped neatly in bandages for padding, with their feet left bare except more bandages. It was the academy's rules, of course, but Emma knew her brother trained like this almost every day. He would have a massive advantage over the dark skinned lad.

The coordinator, Macron, lifted a flag to ready them. Lucas took a strange stance Emma had never seen before, and her brother entered into one of dozens of defensive positions their uncle had taught him. He set his stance wide, like a rock, and brought his arms forward in claw like patterns. Emma knew this one well. Her uncle loved it, and whenever he had come to Thamasa, he would practice on the wood terraces and Emma would just sit and watch, hypnotized.

It was clear Lucas would have trouble with the prince from the start, and as soon as Macro threw the flag down the duel commenced. Lucas charged her brother and launched himself into several attacks, ranging from strikes and sweeping kicks, but her brother was able to parry each and every one of them. At one point he lifted his leg and caught one of Lucas' kicks with it and then smashed his open palms against the lad's chest, sending him to the ground.

Emma gasped. Poor Lucas was being humiliated! It was unfair that he was put into a fight with such an advanced student. Her brothers really ought to have moved up a bracket, with those in a similar skill group. It simply wasn't fair!

"Enough!" the Macron howled, whistling. "Enough!" her brother and Lucas filed off the platform before him, each giving a very distinct expression. Her brother looked bored, but Lucas looked incredibly annoyed. Emma found that she did not blame Lucas whatsoever.

"You both did very well, you should be proud," Macron said, and then gestured to Cambyses. "As always your majesty, your form is impressive, but do remember that other students do not have a grand master for an uncle. It is great to demonstrate your skill and strengths, but it equally important to provide your knowledge to others too."

Cambyses obliged him with a nod. "Of course, sir. I will remember that."

Macron finally glanced to Lucas. "Do not be ashamed of loss, Lucas. Everyone must know this part of life. It will strengthen your character. You did well though, do not let this deter you. You are only a year and a half into your training, and yet you already fight so well. You have talent. You can grow that by paying attention to others, record what they get right and what they get wrong, and listen to those around you. You might soon be a grand master yourself."

Lucas gritted his teeth. Even to Emma, it was clear he was angry. She would be too, if someone talked down to her like that. "Yes...I will be sure to do just that, sir."

"Good. You may take your seats."

As all of the boys filed back into their seats, the girls who had been fawning all over them sat awkwardly in their seats. They had no idea who root for, or strive to grab the attention of now. And it was clear even tot he girls that right then none of the boys would appreciate it.

It didn't come as a surprise when Cadence stood up to greet Cambyses, with a smile. She kissed his cheek and then pulled him into a hug. Benjamin gagged at them before taking a seat beside them. Cadence didn't attend the academy, of course, she had come by an hour or two early to visit and decided to stay for the match. All for Cambyses. Her brother held her back and smiled at her, and it caught Emma's surprise. That was the same sort of smile their father made all of the time for their mother. Emma didn't know why realizing that her brother actually loved this woman surprised her so much, but she was glad of it. Cadence, as little as Emma knew of her, didn't deserve to be mistreated or forgotten or neglected.

It was obvious, as Cadence turned her gaze from her beloved and caught the sight of all the girls practically drooling over Cambyses, that their adoration of her beloved was not appreciated. Those crystal blue eyes narrowed so briefly that Emma thought she hadn't seen it. She was jealous, and angry, and she was having a very difficult time keeping it in check.

Emma giggled again. She thought it was so sweet, but she knew her brother was too much a fool to realize that the attention he favored so much was hurting Cadence. Her brother just liked to know others liked him, he would never betray Cadence, but that wouldn't matter in the end—when Cadence eventually confronted Cambyses about it. That would be something to witness, Emma thought with a smile. Her brother being chewed out was a rare sight by their parents, and when it happened it was hilarious. What would it look like to see him chewed apart by the woman he loved?

Cambyses had to learn about the discomforts he kept putting Cadence through. If he didn't, Emma would be sure to say something...maybe. If she found the strength. Her brother had no idea how lucky he was to have found someone like Cadence. If she had found something she cared about as much as he does for Cadence, or someone who cared about her as much as Cadence does for her brother, she would be sure to let that person know. Emma wasn't sure if that was selfish of her, or if it was just something someone in that situation would do, and it ultimately made her feel uneasy and sad. She wasn't even sure if there was a person out there that could look at her and think she was worth something, that could ignore her teeth or ears or her hair and eyes. She had yet to meet one outside her parents, and her guardians back at Thamasa.

Emma had been so caught up in her own head that she hadn't noticed the coordinator hollering for the girls to gather before him for their brackets-including her! It took one of the other girls loud laughter to wake her from her trance. Emma looked down her lonely hill toward the large gathering, confused. Macro was burning red in the face by then. "Get down here, young lady!" there were no honor titles for her. Women were less than, especially when they were still children. Emma pinked and looked around her, before pointing to herself. That infuriated him even further. "Yes you, girl! Hurry up before I lose my patience!"

Terrified that he might actually lose his patience, she scrambled to her feet and hurried down the hill. Half way down, her pace caused her to lose her footing and she fell forward, smashing into the hill and rolling painfully down to the bottom. Her satchel had opened in the fall, spilling the contents everywhere, and her clothes had scuffed terribly against rocks and dirt. She gave a painful sort of cry and sat herself up, even as all of the other kids burst out into laughter.

Her hair was disheveled and her face covered in dirt when someone appeared in front of her. Emma looked up, gentle tears in her eyes, and saw Cadence. The woman knelt a little and held out a hand to her. "Are you okay, Emma?" at the woman's help, the kids quieted, because they knew who she was and that she should not be trifled with. The woman said to be your next queen would make a terrible enemy, after all. Cadence helped her to her feet.

"...I...y-yes."

Cadence patted her clothing gently, clearing it from dust and grim. "You must be careful from now on," she whispered, before reaching up to try and fix her messy hair. "You must know your own limits, Emma." Emma's cheeks reddened. I am weak. I am frail. I am...useless. She nodded, and the woman laughed. "Do not look so glum, Emma, it wasn't a chiding."

"Princess?" it was the first time the coordinator had directed her using her titles, so Emma hadn't been listening. Cadence smiled sweetly at her, amused, and gestured to the man. Emma looked at him. "Are you well?" he wouldn't have asked if Cadence hadn't of stepped up, she kenw that, but unwilling to test him, she nodded. "Good. Lady Cole, if you do not mind, would you please re-take your seat?"

Emma watched her go before looking back at Macron. "...sir?"

He grumbled, and asked what she wanted, as he began tearing through sheets of papers. It was the roster. "What...what do you want f-from me?" the children burst into giggles again, though this time Macron shushed them with an angry glare.

He looked at Emma. "Isn't it obvious, girl? Physical education is required of every student."

Oh no! This wouldn't do at all! Not only could she physically not do it, and felt sick at the thought of it, her parents had been very clear she should never engaged in this sort of activity. The extent of her physical education was stretching and forms with her uncle, and some light jogging. Even at the academy, in all these months, her training had come to the sum total of a few rounds of stretching, running (she failed at that every time) and dodge—all of which she hated with all her heart. The thought of this sort of training sickened her. She paled. "Sir...sir I'm not...I can't..."

"Please girl, speak up and clearly when you talk."

"I..." she hesitated. "I cannot play—"

"It isn't playing," he corrected her, almost harshly. "This is education to keep your body strong and healthy, and is non-negotiable."

"But sir, I really can't—"

"Enough," he shut her up quickly. "You will do as you are told. Now get into line while I draw out the brackets."

Emma tried fruitlessly to argue with him again, to tell him about her parents, but he snarled at her and she shrunk back, humiliated. As she walked to the back of the line, the girls smirked and laughed, some even made faces at her. At the end of the line, Veva glared at her.

"Freak."

It wasn't something new. Those words had become quite common for her to hear. Emma simply looked down at her feet, determined not to let the girl see how much it hurt to be the constant target of all the jokes and abuse. It would only fuel her behavior more.

As Macron finally began to read off names, Emma took the chance to locate her brothers and the Duan brothers in the crowd. She spotted her brothers sitting a bit further back on the benches, relatively close together. The Duan brothers were closer by, watching with varying degrees of attention. Her brother Benjamin was watching with great interest though, as he loved martial arts completely. He respected and adored their uncle greatly, after all. And what's more, he did find Emma's version of martial arts intriguing. Her uncle had formed the style just for her, and called it Gentle Mantis Form. The style largely focused on defense, but the sole objective of the style was to teach evasion. Very little of it had intention of aggression, and those moves had never been taught to Emma, and according to her uncle, never would be.

It was a relatively knew form of martial arts, of course, and even though it had complete sets to learn, Emma was neither taught all of it nor any good at what she knew. The extent of her ability started three stances and eight ways of evasion. It was the culmination of quitting very young, from frustration, and never having the strength to push further than those baby steps. As such, she was now very flustered, and afraid. If Macron put her on the platform, she would surely be walloped. The eight times she was brought to the platform before—with the last leading her parents to conclude she must never participate again—and had been tossed over and over again-much to the entertainment of her brothers.

The thought of losing in front of her peers, especially the girls who just would not stop tormenting her, terrified her. Lucas was watching, and so were her brothers. The embarrassment of it would destroy her. She took a breath, trembling. Perhaps if she were lucky today, someone wouldn't want to fight her, too afraid of potential repercussions from the king and queen. She swallowed back a sudden cry to be left out when she knew that was highly unlikely. The kids had the perfect opportunity right now to hurt her without repercussions. It was, after all, a mandatory academy activity.

Macron shifted slowly down the line, calling out pairs. Each step he took closer to her, Emma felt sicker and sicker. Veva was snickering beside her, and Emma knew it meant nothing but turmoil for her. They were plotting something, but what?

Suddenly Macron stopped at the end of the line, looking alarmed. "This cannot be right..." he flipped a page and then back again, and then looked at Emma. "Did you enter into the tournament itself?"

Emma paled. The girls started laughing, and very loudly. So that was what the girls had done. The worst part was that they knew her parents forbid this sort of thing. Were they trying to get her in trouble? When their snickering grew, Emma knew that was it. They had done this not only to humiliate her, but to get her parents to scold her.

"W-w-what?" she stammered. "N-No, I...I can't."

Macron frowned. "Well, of course you can't." Emma cringed at the way he worded it. "Someone here clearly thinks they are witty." he passed a heated glare across the line. "When I find out who entered the princess in, knowing full well she is barred from these sorts of physical activities, they will be punished by the academy and by their king and queen."

"It's just training," one of the girls howled out.

"Just send the baby away, already!" another shouted.

"Quiet!" Macron snapped at them. "You know good and well she is sickly! You could have seriously hurt her!" The quiet around her was answer enough. She could feel all eyes on her, seething. It made her skin crawl. "We will deal with whoever did this later. Let's start the rounds—"

"Macron, sir, why should we be punished because she thought she could do something she couldn't?" Veva asked, and eyes went to her next. Emma was appalled. So, they were going to frame her for the entry? She hoped the good coordinator understand she would never do something like that, to put herself in risk and in the spot light of undesirable attention.

"Oh, I am sure she did Veva," he said, and the meaning behind his tone was clear to them all. He knew who was responsible, and would deal with them later. Emma relaxed. He knew it wasn't her. "And for that stunt, everyone but the princess will run three full laps after practice." the girls gasped and immediately starting protesting. "If you wish to whine about it, turn to the girl you know who did this and whine at her. This is her fault." Again Emma felt their eyes turn to her. Somehow they found her the fault of their horribly thought out scheme. "Now, if the pathetic games are over, pair up with your partner and step forward."

Emma glanced at Veva. The girl was drilling holes into her, brows furrowed so deeply the skin was wrinkled like paper. "It is probably for the best for the freak to drop out here and now. You're too pathetic to do anything of value." and then she hmpf'd and threw her hair over her shoulder, turning away. Emma turned her eyes slowly toward the crowd, toward he brothers and the Duan brothers. She felt a pang of shame, and a desire to show them that she was not a worthless burden. That she could do something of merit.

She hesitantly raised a hand and stammered, "S-s-sir?" he didn't hear her, so she spoke louder. "S-sir?" finally he stopped, and turned to her, frowning. She blushed. "I...I w-w-would like to participate, please."

That shocked the girls. They began laughing and joking about her fighting. Macron ignored them, keeping his eyes on her. "I'm sorry princess, but I cannot permit that. You have been barred from these activities, you know that."

"But sir—"

"You cannot argue this with me, girl," he said sternly.

She hung her head, low. "...yes, sir."

The girls giggled triumphantly, and Veva laughed and said, "You would have cried to mommy and daddy when you got hurt anyway. It's for the best."

"I said enough!" Macron howled. "You have just added another three laps to your punishment, Veva! Keep it up and you will be here until the academy hour is over!" the girl backed down, breathing hard from anger. Macron faced Emma again. "I cannot allow you to compete against them in the tournament, princess, but perhaps it will be enough for you to participate in the practice after. You will not fight, of course, but you will begin to strengthen yourself up and perhaps, if your parents decide later on, you can compete."

Emma's esteem shrunk. How was that an offer? She was already going to be made to attend physical education, it was mandatory after all, but this just sounded like double work. She did not want to irk his ire though, and nodded without a word. "You may join us all in practice later." she nodded again. "Good, now go take a seat with your brothers. When we are finished here, I will call you down."

Slowly she made her way up the line, getting snickers and comments the entire way until she reached the stairs to the platform. The girl at the front, Arcy, faked a trip and knocked her down the steps. Emma landed hard on her elbow and chin. "I saw that, young lady!" Macron howled. "Get off the platform and head to the dean's office. Right now!" Arcy glared at Macron and then hmpf'd before making her way down the stairs, around Emma and then finally stomped towards the academy.

Emma lifted herself to her knees and flinched at the pain in her elbow. After a minute or so, a shadow loomed near her and she looked up, expecting Cadence again. Instead, it was her older brother. He held a hand out to her and looked away. Emma took his hand and allowed him to lift her to her feet. "Thank you, Camb."

"Hmm." he grumbled, letting her hand go. "Just get to a chair already, before they get another smart idea." Emma hurried passed him and up towards the chairs nearest her brothers and Cadence. It was on seat to the left of Cadence. Her younger brother was a seat ahead of them, and no one sat beside him. Benjamin, despite having his horde of admirers, was known not to tolerate it. The girls would have to admire from afar.

When Emma found her seat, Cadence looked at her. "Are you okay, Emma?"

She nodded, cradling her elbow. "Yes, Lady Cole, I'm fine." Cadence sighed at her. It took a second for Emma to remember the woman's words about what to call her. She blushed. "I'm sorry...I forgot."

"Well heavens, girl. I wasn't about to bite your head off for it." she giggled. "It is good to have your company though. Your brother has been an awful bore."

"I have, have I?" he asked, having arrived. She passed him a look, one that Emma couldn't understand, and he laughed as he took his seat. "I wasn't much of a bore to you this morning." Cadence gasped and turned to slap him hard on the arm. He cried and leaned away from her, alarmed. "What the hell was that for, Cadence?!"

"How many times must I tell you? Don't do that in front of your sister!"

Emma corked her brows at them. Cadence's attempt to whisper that to Camb had failed miserably. "Don't do what in front of me?"

"Nothing!" they both hissed at her. Emma frowned and crossed her arms.

Why did adults continuously do things like this? It was as if they were bringing up unspeakable subjects in front of her on purpose, just to remind her she was not to hear it. Cadence offered her a small smile. "You shouldn't snoop anyhow, Emma."

"I wasn't snooping—"

"Let's change the subject," she interrupted. "What has possessed you to want to deal with those girls?"

She was referring to Emma's request to participate in the tournament. She frowned. "I...I just wanted..."

Cambyses said, "She's trying to prove something out of her ability." his answer frizzed Cadence's anger. "I'm not trying to be mean," he explained. "The fact of the matter is that my sister is sickly, and weak. She cannot bear what others can, and putting her in a tournament would only severely hurt her and cause repercussions to fall on whoever had fought her. My sister needs to learn this, and accept it." he looked at her, with the same eyes their father possessed when he scolded her.

Emma shrunk into her chair, ashamed and blushing.

"You won't know until she is given a chance," Cadence said. "What if training could strengthen her? This should not be something that is easily decided."

"It isn't up to me or you," Camb said. "She is a child still, and her parents—whom happen to be our queen and king—have the say in it. And if I see my little sister breaking their rules," he looked at her, warningly. "I will tell our parents and she will find life far more restricting than before."

"Camb!"

"No," he snapped. "Emma needs to stop risking her health because she wants to win this lots," he gestured to the other kids around them. "respect or friendship. She needs to start learning to be mature and think ahead."

Emma looked at them for a minute before lowering her eyes. Everything he was saying was true, no matter if she disliked it. She was weak. Her parents would punish her if they found out she was testing their limits. She was a child. Her brother was right...what did she think she could do? She would have just been hurt, and the subject of further humiliation from the kids at school when they saw how pathetic she was.

She slumped into her seat and brought her knees up to her chest, and then hid her face against her knees, to hide her tears. I'm so useless...why was I even born?

Why must you degrade yourself at every turn? her voice demanded, hotly. You are worth more than all of this planet combined. Show yourself some dignity!

Emma squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Was she going crazy? What was this voice, and why did she have to have this on top of everything else? She just wanted to be normal, to be accepted by the other kids, to show her parents she was not a burden. That she was worth something. This egotistical voice in her head would not help her.

The voice laughed. If I am conceited, you are as well.

Shut up! She pressed her hands against her hand, trembling. Please, just leave me alone!

"Emma?" She peeled away from her knees and looked at the woman leaning toward her, brows furrowed in worry. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I...I...yes." it was clear she was not though, because a headache burned in her then and she flinched.

Cadence leaned away and glanced toward the platform, where some of the girls were already in combat, and then looked back at her. "Emma, I think maybe your brother is right. If you had gone out there like this—"

"I'm fine, really," she rushed. "My...my head hurts, that's all."

"Just more proof that mother and father, and Macron, made the right decision." her brother chimed in. "You need to start accepting your limitations." before she could say anything, he added. "And I am not trying to insult you Emma, it's just life. We all have our limitations, which we must accept. I know I will never have your talents, I simply do not have the ability to reach as far as you, but do you see me mopping about it? I accept them, and I focus on what I can do."

Emma pouted. How could he akin her sickness and weakness, and for it being restricted on everything you did, to not being able to remember things the way she did? One was a terrible handicap, the other was a desire to be more perfect.

••••••••••••

Cadence shifted in her seat and looked from the match to the princess at her side. The poor girl had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the tournament, resting her head against the back of the bench. Cadence giggled and elbowed Cambyses. When he turned, utterly bored by the girls' matches, she pointed to his sister.

Cambyses sighed. "Exactly my point. She still needs naps."

Cadence giggled yet again. "It's quite cute when common things exhaust her." He hmpf'd. "Cambyses, I know you hadn't meant to hurt her feelings earlier but..."

"What?"

"...you have to understand how it makes her feel when people say those things about her."

"What things?" he asked, frowning. "You mean her actual condition? She needs to stop letting these things bother her, it isn't healthy."

"Of course she does," Cadence snapped at him. "But she's a child, and one you full well know is different from any other her age. She needs time, and understanding, and patience." Cambyses leaned into the back of his bench and rolled his eyes. She seethed and slapped his arm again. "Do not roll your eyes at me, Cambyses!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It is just...everyone says we have to do this and that for her, but that's all we have ever done. Where has it gotten us? Gotten her?"

Cadence didn't know what to say to that. She looked back at the princess, trembling now from the cool breeze whipping them. She knew, deep down, that Camb was right. Emma's situation was so...unique. She had her difficulties—such as understanding others and cues of social etiquette—but she was still a child. One that cared...and cared deeply.

"I don't know Camb," she hesitated. "Don't you ever just feel..." she felt terrible for thinking it, but she had to say it. "Don't you ever feel sorry for her?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's got Sand Fever. It's a blood sickness that will never leave her." she said. "Because of that, she's not able to enjoy the things that most kids can, and never will be. Simple exercises exhaust her. She's so frail in health that she needs to maintain a perfect diet to keep her immune system up. That isn't even discussing her other...problem." Camb frowned at that. "She...she loses out on everything, Cambyses. Isn't that sad?"

"Of course it is," he grumbled. "But bemoaning it won't change it. Nothing will. We cannot keep giving her false hope of something different. She is sick, and for life. Her happiness must be obtained with those limitations in mind, not in a wild dream of getting better. Mother and father will never understand this though, and keep promising her that when she gets better, she can do the things she's not allowed to. They know she's not capable of it though, and that's wrong."

"How do you know they aren't hopeful, too?" she asked him. "They are parents. You will never understand what they have to go through."

"You are right. I will never have to experience Emma from their perspective," he stood up. "I do, however, have to experience her from that of a brother, of the future king. The fear of wondering what I will do with her when mother and father are gone. The fear of wondering what sort of life my little sister will have when no one will spare her a second of their day. The fear of wondering how I can stop her next tr..." he stopped himself there. "When I am king, she will know a different life, one I am sure you and my parents will argue over, but one that will, hopefully, grant her some peace." and then he walked away, ignoring the girls gawking and giggling after him.

Cadence slumped into her seat, surprised. She had never considered he was worrying that much about his sister, that he was actively thinking about her future. He always came off as aloof when it came to her, that the extent of his worry culminated in how his parents dealt with her. She watched him go, feeling terrible for assuming what she had of him.

••••••••••••

Emma was stirred awake by gentle shaking. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

"There you are, at last," a quiet, amused voice said. Cadence. Emma faced her, curious, and asked what happened. Cadence laughed. "You fell asleep."

She blushed. Of course she did! But she had been so tired. The day had exhausted her greatly, but she thought she would be able to keep awake, at least until the ride home. Cadence caught her unease and frowned. "Emma...there is nothing wrong with what you did. It is perfectly natural, you are..." she hesitated. "I hate to upset you, but you are sick. You cannot help it."

You do not know how it feels, she thought.

"Come, the matches are over—"

"What?" Emma sat up, and glanced down the benches towards the platform. The boys were already dismantling it. "But...but Macron...he said..."

"Emma," Cadence came over to lay a hand on her shoulder. "You are not ready to take on something like that...give your health the chance to strengthen before you put yourself in such situations." she patted her shoulder. "Okay?"

Emma frowned and then nodded. "...okay."

"Good," the woman chirped, helping her to her feet. "I will walk you to your last class, then I must be off."

"You...you are leaving?" Emma's thoughts immediately leapt to her brother, and how sour he might become without Cadence around.

"Yes. I am to pick my brother up at the academy and meet my father along the way."

Oh, Emma thought, disappointed. She had wanted to spend more time with the kindly woman. Cadence giggled. "You look like I stepped on your toes, Emma. Whatever is the matter?"

"Will...will you be coming back? To...to Figaro?"

"Yes, of course," she frowned. "Why?"

Emma began to fidget with her fingers and looked away. "I...I don't know...I was...curious."

Cadence was quiet for a minute, but then smiled and said, "I'm thoroughly attached to the Figaro family, Emma. I do not think I could escape you and yours even if I tried." Emma giggled. "Now, come, we mustn't let you be late."

Together they made their way down the benches, allowing the boys to finally turn and begin dismantling them too. Emma tried very hard to keep up with the long strides of the older woman, but she was finding it exceptionally difficult. Half way back to the academy she was puffing and red in the face. The children they passed glanced at her, making faces, but Emma was too concentrated on keeping up with Cadence to pay them much of her attention.

Suddenly, Cadence vanished around a corner and Emma gasped. She picked her pace up and as she turned around the corner, plowed right into someone. She fell back and hit the hard tiled floor with a loud umpf. Some kids around her stared for a second or two, and then promptly returned to their business.

Emma struggled up, back aching, and gasped when she saw who it was she had run into. Veva. Of all the people! She was glaring down at her, furious. Emma scurried to her feet, trembling. "I'm...I'm sorry, I...I didn't see you."

Veva mocked her stammering, and then said, "Is that how your parents teach you, to shove and trip people, you little freak?"

"No...I...I just didn't see you."

The girl besides Veva giggled. Arcy. "Perfect! She even knows she is a freak."

Emma ducked her eyes, twisting her fingers through each other. "I'm sorry...but...but I have to go." she tried to walk around the girls, but they spread out to block her path. Emma hesitated. "Please, I—I will be late."

"Oh, she'll be late!" Veva repeated to her friends, frowning. "We should definitely let her through, girls. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Emma had never seen the girls give up before, so it was surprising to witness. She was grateful though. "Th-thank you, Veva." but when she went to pass them, the girls shoved her with their shoulders and Emma fell again. The girls burst into laughter, earning yet another round of looks from others around them momentarily. Emma got back to her feet and took a few steps back, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, look, she's crying." Arcy giggled. "Priceless."

Her voice was seething. Emma could feel the rage, the humiliation. It was as if someone was running the edge of a red hot blade down her back. Her head ached, but she pushed it aside. Not today. Today the voice would be quiet! The girls noticed the change in her immediately though, and paused for a minute to look at her, both frightened and amused. It wasn't until Emma heard the raging thoughts that twisted around her own that she realized her expression had hardened, that she was glaring back at the girls.

"Angry?" Veva asked. "Cute. What are you going to do, cry to your mommy?"

Emma gripped the ends of her blouse, tightening them so hard she could feel her finger nails digging into her palms. No, calm, stay calm, she took a breath, and then another. The voice was flashing images of the girls beaten to a pulp before her, making it hard to concentrate. She took another deep breath, remembering Relm's words. Calm...think calm...calm.... Feeling a little control of her anger, and unwilling to test it any further, she tried to walk around the girls, tried to ignore them. She made it three steps passed them before one of them shoved her. Emma lost her footing and fell hard, bashing her chin against hard tile and biting her tongue.

Red and white flashes came and went in her mind's eye as she struggled up to her knees. The girls' laughter echoed behind her, pulsating in her mind like a hammer against steel.

How dare they! The voice howled. Stand up! Stand up! Fight them!

No! Emma snapped, standing. She turned to look at the girls, brows furrowed. Even her anger had begun to leak out, but she kept it within.

"What are you going to do about it?" Veva asked, smirking. "You wanted to fight out there, but now you're playing the coward? As if anyone believed you were even capable of competing. You are just a pathetic, ugly freak we all have to deal with. When you are gone, we will be blessed."

Emma leaned down to grab her satchel, which had spilled out during the last fall. When she was straight again, she said, "If you...if you hate me so much...why don't you just leave me alone?" the girls were quiet. "I know I'm...I'm a freak...but w-w-what have I done to you?"

It was Veva that answered. "What did you do?" she repeated, scuffing. "You were born. We hate looking at you, we hate hearing you, and we hate hearing of you. You are a disgusting monster, and yet you are supposed to be our princess?" she asked. "I won't kneel to an abomination. You would do the world a favor by killing yourself, you even know it, but you're too much a coward to even do that." Emma felt the tears building in her eyes. "Go ahead, cry. It's what you do best."

Emma had heard these things before, countless times, from so many other people. It didn't stop hurting the more she heard it, but she had hoped it would. She could not help but cry. I know what I am, she thought. Why can't you just let me forget, just for a day?

"What do you expect?" one of the girls said, laughing. "A monster born of a monster. She and her mother are both freaks."

Something inside of Emma had stirred to that. This uncontrollable anger, this red hot flash in her eyes, a pounding ache in her head and a ring in her ears. She felt the voice's anger and was astonished to realize, as she moved toward the girls, that this was her anger too. She leapt at the girl who had said it and knocked her to the ground. Every fiber of her being was on fire, burning hot energy through her. She began pummeling the girl's face, and with each strike she took a further step back from knowing, from control. The voice was easing into that spot, and Emma could not find a piece of her that cared at the moment. Right now, they were in agreement. They were furious.

"Help!" the girl whined loudly, trying to cover her face. "Help me!"

Finally, the other girls, so shocked they stared wide eyed in fear, stirred from their states and rushed over to peel Emma off the girl. They threw Emma backwards and helped their friend up. By now, a small crowd was gathering. Emma didn't even get up before the girls were on her, kicking her. All of the anger had vanished from her completely, and the control that had come free slipped back into her hands. There was no anger to block the pain or fear or grief, it was only her. Taking every kick, feeling every inch of its pain.

She curled herself up, protecting her head, but it exposed her ribs and back, and the girls kept kicking and kicking. Emma felt tears running down her face. What had she done? Why? Why did she have to get angry? If Relm were here, she would be screamed at for hours, scolded for letting her childish anger get ahead of her. It had before, and Emma had paid the price for it dearly. But it was just not something she could fully control.

"What's going on over there?!" someone howled down the hall. All at once, the girls started to disperse, running. The crowd joined them, moving as quickly as they could. The sound of dozens of feet racing down the hall carried on for a minute or so, before eventually dulling into the rapid approach of whoever had scared them away. Emma did not relax from her position though, trembling, crying.

The person knelt beside her and laid a hand on her. "Princess? Oh for gods sake...!" Emma vaguely recognized the voice, falling in and out of consciousness. The pain...the pain hurt so bad. She couldn't make out the face above her, finally giving into the pain.

••••••••••••

W...where...where am I?

She opened her eyes. A tall, dome like ceiling drew up far above her. Windows encased the outer parts of it, letting in dull sunlight. Sunset. Emma shifted and pushed herself up. Her back and ribs ached in protest. She gasped and flinched. What...what happened? Her memories began to trickle back into her head, causing a new spasm of pain to race through her. She moaned and closed her eyes, pressing a hand against her temple. Memories of standing in the hall...of the girls...of feeling complete and uncontrollable anger. And then nothing but pain.

Her voice was whispering in her ears, but her words were intangible. She knew it was her voice's fault, whatever had happened. There was this sickening feeling in her stomach that she only got from the voice's interference. She could feel it trying to wrestle control. No... she pressed harder. No! Go away...go away... the pressure in her head released, and the sound around her started to pour in.

"Emma? Oh thank the gods, you're awake!"

Emma turned, flinching at the movement, and saw Cadence briskly running towards her. In the door way, leaning against the frame, was her older brother. He did not looked please, but for what, she could not figure out. Cadence collided into her with a hug, pressing her tight against her. "I'm so glad you are okay!" she squeezed, and Emma gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry...how much does it hurt?"

Enough, Emma thought tiredly. "Only...only a little."

"Who did this to you?" she asked after a moment, letting her go. "Please Emma, you must tell me."

Emma looked down, thinking. If she told on Veva and Arcy, the outcome would be disastrous. The torment would... Emma paused. It would what? she asked herself, feeling frustrated. Get worse? What is worse than this? They already hurt me and pick on me and insult me and...and... What would it matter if she told? The other kids stood there and let those girls shove her and hurt her. The worst that could come of this is that Veva gets angrier, but how much further could she take her torment? At least she would taste some form of justice if Emma told.

Tell...tell...tell...

Emma took a breath, trying to ignore the voice. "It..." confusion swelled up inside of her, confusion and fear. "It was...Veva."

Cadence didn't seem surprised by that, but she did cork a brow. "Just Veva?" Emma shook her head. "Who else?" Cadence pressed. "Was it the other nasty girl, what's her name?" she paused to think. "Karcy?"

"Arcy," Emma corrected through a mumble.

"Well," Cadence said, sounding very angry. "Your father will certainly handle it. There should be no tolerance for—"

"Once they know, it will mean..." she took a breath. "The others will hate me even more."

Cadence took a seat beside her on the little cot and took Emma's hands into hers. "Why do you desire their attention so much, Emma?" Cadence pushed on at her quiet. "They already abuse you. Just look at you...you are covered in bruises."

You don't understand anything, Emma thought bitterly. "I...I just want them to leave me alone." there was a time where Emma thought she could become their friend, become any of her peers' friends, but that had evaporated long ago. Now she could settle happily on them leaving her be, or finding someone new to torment. But she could feel it in her bones—there was no better object for their attention than her. There would never be someone freakier than her.

Cadence frowned. "Listen to me...you stand to lose nothing if you tell your parents, they are already cruel to you, but you could gain some peace by telling them."

Tell...tell...tell

Emma turned aside the voice, struggling for a second, and then shook her head. "...I don't have a choice."

"Because you think I will make you talk to them?" she asked quietly. Emma looked away. "I would never do something like that to you."

"Nothing will ever change," Emma said.

"It won't change if you do nothing," Cadence answered. "If you act now, they will stop. They would be too afraid to risk your parents' wraith to continue. You do not have to do anything, of course, but I do think you need to think this through very carefully."

Make them into an example... the voice whispered. Break them.

Emma closed her eyes, and took calming breaths. Go away. Go away. Go away!

She felt Cadence's warm hands touch her face and jolted up straight, breathing hard. The woman's eyes were round with worry, with fear. "Emma, are you okay? You're so pale."

"I'm...I'm fine," she struggled, still wrestling with the voice. "I'm just...tired."

A quiet settled around them then, one that was unbearable. Emma knew the woman had more to say, more to ask, but something was stopping her. Leave, she begged. Leave before I... before she what? This voice was getting harder to control every day, but she had no idea yet what would happen if...when...she lost the battle. She knew there were places for people like that, the mentally unstable people, and knew that her parents would send her there immediately if they knew even a fraction of what she was experiencing. They were places of grief, of solitude, and of pain. There was talk on Thamasa that they were even last resort hiding places for the mad scientists of the Empire to experiment on people.

Emma shivered. Please gods, give me strength...

"Alright," Cadence stood up. "Whatever you decide to do, you will do so later. You are not to stay here today. Your brother has already called a carriage forward to take you home."

"What?" Emma got to her feet quickly, and nearly tripped. "No...he can't!"

"Yes, he can," she told her sternly. "You were hurt Emma, and if it worries you, think nothing of him telling your parents. I have sworn him to secrecy. He knows this is your problem to deal with, and for you to decide if or when to tell your parents." she held a hand out. "But regardless of whether or not you tell them, you will be going home."

Emma frowned. If she went home, they would see the bruises, and there would be nothing she could do. But then her foolishness caught up to her. Eventually she would need to head back home, and they would see them then. Lie, she realized. I have to lie...

Tell, the voice hissed. Tell them!

There was a sudden rapid noise that tore her from her thoughts. She turned, as Cadence did, to see who was at the door. Emma blushed and lowered her eyes, praying with all her might that Cadence would send him away.

"And who might you be?" Cadence asked, crossing her arms.

"Lucas Duan," the young man answered, in such a way it seemed as if he were insulted she did not know him. "I was told I was needed here."

"And for what purpose could that be?" Cadence asked. Emma peaked up at him. He was so near. It was almost suffocating. And yet despite that, it made her stomach swirl, and not all in a bad way.

"The Dean instructed me to walk her to her carriage, and to tell you and the prince to meet him in his office before you leave."

Emma was alarmed, and knew her red cheeks were burning hotter. He was going to walk her to her carriage? She swallowed back a very sudden cry of denial, too attached to the idea of being near him. No...I can't...if Veva sees...if she hears... she felt that twirling in her stomach deepen at the thought of it though. She wanted to know more of him. She wanted this chance so bad it was sickening.

"I will walk her to her carriage, thank you," Cadence told him, sounding very protective. "I don't want the other kids to get the funny idea it is okay to attack her again."

Lucas gave her a quizzical look. "I wouldn't want that either, my lady. I know that they will not bother her if I walk her. Please, let me help." Emma smiled a little bit. He was worried for her?

Cadence sighed and turned to Emma again, chewing her lip thoughtfully. She laid a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Are you comfortable with this? I will walk you if you are not." Emma could not speak, she simply nodded. "Alright then..." she stood and turned to the lad at the doorway. "She is not to stop anywhere else but at the carriage, do you hear me? You must be sure she gets on, as well."

He gave a very gentle inclination of his head. "Of course, my lady."

"Fine," she conceded, very much so annoyed. "I have your name boy. If something happens to her, I will also have your head."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of letting her come to harm, my lady."

Emma blushed and began twisting her fingers around the ends of her shirt. No...don't think of it too much. I am a freak. What interest could he have in someone like me?

Suddenly Cadence turned back to her and clasped her hands on her shoulders. "I will see you later then, Emma. Please, for the gods, behave and think about what I told you, okay?" Emma nodded and Cadence laughed. "Then goodbye for now." she tapped Emma's nose with her finger and then went on her way, briskly.

When they were alone, Emma tried to concentrate on something else, anything else, so that this man would not see the strangeness of her. So that he did not see her as a child. Lucas had broken the silence first, and approached. He touched her shoulder. It was a firm touch.

"Are you well enough to walk?"

Emma sucked in a hard, quick breath and tried to look away from his intense eyes and tried her hardest to pay attention to anything else but the warmth of his hands on her. She was well aware of the fact that she was under an enormous crush. He was like her, in most ways, and yet far beyond her. He was popular, he was handsome, he was athletic and he was a giant. All the opposites of her yet he displayed similarities in his genius and in his interests. Similarities that drew her in.

Was she being naïve?

"I...I can walk, yes."

"Good," he said, walking forward. "Follow me then, and stay close behind."

Emma got to her feet, ignored the pain her ribs, and followed him out of the room.

Lucas helped her up at a short flight of stairs and then guided her through the main hall toward the front of the academy, where the carriages were parked. Luckily for her the halls were almost empty, those that remained were nearly all staff members and the kids that stood by classrooms waiting only gave a few looks before they went back to their chatting. It was when they were about to reach the double doors when he stopped her, with a strong hand on her arm.

Emma froze at the contact. "Did...did I do something?"

He made a face at her, something between a frown and a scowl. "Did I say that you did?"

"No..."

"Then why would you think it?"

She swallowed back a cry that she needed to leave, and lowered her eyes. "I'm s-s-sorry, I shouldn't have—have said anything."

"It makes no matter," he said quietly. "I do have a question for you, before you go. A simple yes or no will suffice."

She felt her throat tighten and her heart skip a bit as she looked up into his eyes. The familiar flutter of her stomach returned. She barely managed a, "A...a question?"

And then his eyebrows folded down into a concentrated 'V'. "Are you currently being courted?"

Caught by surprise, she fumbled her words, face so red it rivaled a tomato. "I, uh, well...I no...no, I'm not." she wanted to bash her head against a wall for her stupidity. Why must I act like such a fool in front of him?

"Is that so?" he said quietly, still staring at her with his intense, dark green eyes. And then, still staring at her, he frowned ever so slightly. "If you wait on what you have to say, you would not fumble so much over your words. You keep thinking you must say what you have to say quickly, but you do not. You are a princess, after all, and all should wait on your word. So..." he paused, and it was certainly not because he was nervous or forgetful. There was something else to it, something she could pin down. "...you do not need to rush yourself."

Emma was aghast. How could she have acted so stupidly in front of him, yet again? And why did even the boy she had such a crush on have to inform her of her inability to speak? Yet, there was something different about the way he had said it. Others would have just outright made fun of her with the angriest of tones or expressions, and yet Lucas looked as if he was only trying to...explain. To help? She wondered if she could believe in that. "I...I—" she cut herself off, not wanting to further display her idiocy before the boy she was sure she loved. "Okay." she managed after a long moment of thinking as she was suggested. She knew it didn't help but she wanted him to think it did, to think that he had helped her.

He gave no smile or acknowledgement of the attempt. "You shouldn't though."

Confused, she looked at him as if he had spoken another language. "What?"

"It is what makes you...you." He said simply, with a serious expression. "And you, of above all else, should never change yourself for the benefit of others, least of all your lesser peers." A gentle blush bloomed across her cheeks. Was he complimenting her, or insulting her? She wasn't entirely certain, but she wanted to believe that was what it was. A small smile overtook her. How could such a terrible day turn so good?

"We should continue," he said suddenly, taking her arm. He began to guide her out of the academy and towards the carriages.

When they reached their destination, Lucas stopped them and let her arm go. Wren was waiting by the carriage, having been told what happened. He did not look patient. Emma didn't even know how the man could have found out so quickly. "This is as far as I can walk you. I must head back to class." he waited for her to answer, she thought, and frowned. "Do you hear me?"

She nodded. "Y...yes. Thank you f-for walking me, Lucas." she curtsied a bit for him. It felt so strange to say his name to him. She never had before. She loved it.

He just stared. "Do not hurt yourself getting into the carriage." he sounded so mechanical. And then he was off, in a brisk pace with his long legs.

When he was departed, Emma thought she was going to collapse into a puddle. Someone approached behind her. "Princess?" she turned to face the good captain, frowning, and then back toward the academy, wishful. He followed her gaze, remembered the boy he saw and then laughed. "I see...you have a crush." Emma pinked and turned from him to the carriage, hiding her face. She could hear him laughing the entire time.

The ride back to the castle was quiet, but half way back, Wren glanced back at her, smirking, and asked if she wanted him to head back to the academy so she could see him again. It was enough to make Emma grab the shawls laid in the back—and entirely for her—and cover her head with it.

At the castle, the second she went through the door, she was greeted by her worried mother. In her hand was a notice that came sometime after, perhaps, Emma was found. No doubt it detailed what her condition was, and that she had been attacked in the halls. Her mother was not the least bit okay with it. She cried out in shock when she saw her daughter's bleeding lip and bruised eye, though they weren't all that bad.

Terra took her into a bear like hug, one that rivaled Uncle Sabin, and cried, "How could this happen? How could no one have seen this?" she squeezed harder. "Why didn't the academy do something? Just who do they think they are, to allow this to happen to my child?!"

"Mother—"

"Wait until your father comes home and hears about this! Oh...I'm just so mad!"

"I...I'm okay mother, really—" she winced when her mother touched her side and was too late to conceal it. It sent her mother in a fit of worried rage. She dragged her daughter into the great hall, to the back corner, and prepared something for the pain. "Mother, r-r-really, I'm okay! And...and does f-father really have to know?"

"What kind of nonsense is that? Of course he needs to know. Terrorizing my daughter is not okay!"

"But mother, it's over, it doesn't m-matter anymore."

Her mother gave her such an uncharacteristically angry look, but it was clear it was not directed at her. "It doesn't matter?" she asked, brows furrowed. "You are my world, Emma, and not a single person on this planet gets to hurt you without consequence, do you understand me? I will find whoever did this to you, and I will make sure they are brought to proper justice!"

"Mother, kids get hurt all of the time at the academy, why am I any different?"

"Why?" she asked, frowning. "You are my child, that's why, and you are weak and sickly. It is much easier for you to break a bone, to catch an infection, and to hurt! I will not tolerate this, Emma, I will not!"

"It isn't fair to the others...can't we just—"

"No!" she snapped. "It is final, Emma. Your father is going to know about this, and I don't see how you think you could get away with not telling him. Look at your face!"

Emma ducked her eyes. It made her very uncomfortable when she was being screamed at, but even more so by her mother. A soul that so very rarely took that tone with her Emma could count it on a single hand. Her uncle had told her once that Terra is exceptionally hard to anger, but when you did so, it was as if a storm was rending the land. Of course, her uncle also said that Edgar was probably the only one who had a good concept of that anger, but Emma couldn't quite understand her uncle's meaning.

"Now, behave yourself and lift up your arms and blouse. I need to rub some ointment on your ribs."

Emma pinked, but before she could protest, her mother pinched on her arm and Emma was forced to lift up her blouse. If anyone walked into the great hall right now, she would die from embarrassment. There was a whelp on her ribs turning yellow and purple, but in her opinion, it wasn't too bad. Her mother, however, gasped. "Gods, look at it! Oh, it must hurt so bad..." she poured some ointment on her hands, and said, "This will help with some of the pain. Sit still." as soon as her mother's hand touched the spot, Emma jumped and yelped. "See? It hurts you so much and you want to try and keep this a secret from your father?" her mother clucked her tongue, disapprovingly.

"Mother...I'm fine, please...I just w-w-want to go back to the academy tomorrow. Please."

Terra gave her a long, bewildered stare. "You think I would even entertain that request?"

"But—"

"No, Emma," she cut her daughter off sharply. "This comes directly on the heels of what we discovered this morning, and you think I would send you back to that school?"

"I want to go back!" she cried, tears building in her eyes. "Please mother, please! I don't want to leave!"

Terra sighed. "I will not promise you anything...I will think about it." when her daughter smiled, she added, "With your father, of course."

Whatever hope that had restored was immediately revoked. Her father would never allow even the discussion. Emma knew it. "But..." Her mother gave her a look, one that said not another word about it, so she clamped her mouth shut over her words. "Okay..."

••••••••••••

Edgar had done little else beyond sit in his chair in his study for more than a minute before the doors opened and his wife walked. He could tell by her expression it was serious, and sighed heavily. His life just couldn't find time to let him relax after a hard day, it seemed. He gestured her over after she closed the door.

"What is bothering my dear wife?" he asked when she sat.

"Listen to me," she said. "Do not lose your temper."

Now he was even more worried. "What happened?"

And then his wife began telling him what happened to their daughter at the academy, and how bruised she was after the attack. Edgar was ready to form an inquisition. This went beyond bullying. This was assault, and assault on the princess of the kingdom. It was unacceptable. It was not tolerable. He was furious, and afraid. And then his wife told him their daughter wanted to return to the academy tomorrow, and Edgar could barely contain his anger.

"She what?" he hissed. "She cannot be so stupid! Why would we allow that?!"

"Edgar, now listen to me—"

"She will not go back!" he shrieked.

"Edgar Roni Figaro!" she snapped, and he quieted. "I do not think she should return either."

"Good!"

"However," she said, making him worry. "We do not have any other academy to send her to and for me to take over her education, I would need time and resources to prepare for that job. And it would be a job Edgar. I cannot handle both the country affairs and our daughter's education. It is either one, or the other. And if I have to pick, I will not hesitate in picking her."

"Of course," he mumbled. "Of course, but what then is our solution?" they shared in the quiet for a long time, until at last an idea occurred to him. "We must let her return, for the time being, but tomorrow I will speak with other academies. She will be moved, one way or another, but at least this way she has education and we can prepare for her shift in the mean time."

"This discussion again?" she said softly. "I suppose we have been given no choice...but if she becomes unhappy Edgar, she comes home with me."

Edgar laughed and reached to kiss his wife's knuckles. "Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way." he let her hand go. "Now, if you will excuse me, I will go speak with our daughter."

••••••••••••

Emma had spent the time since returning home in her room, quietly by her window, drawing. It helped distract her from her thoughts. Not completely, but it was enough that she could find herself not spinning down a drain, confused. At this moment though, her ribs hurt way too much to give her art much attention. Eventually she sighed and sat aside her things and leaned her head against the glass of her window, watching the wind shift through the gardens below.

Her thoughts drifted to Lucas then. Her stomach sank into that unfamiliar feeling, the one that was so terrible and great at the same time. It was as if she couldn't breath, and yet took the longest breaths at the same time. And he talked to me, she thought wistfully.

She could feel the voice before she heard it. And regarded you as if you were nothing.

No, she thought, annoyed. He...he was being kind.

Kind? the voice repeated, laughing. Only you would think that was kindness. Naïve little Emma!

That had touched a sore spot for her, and the anger spurring within her was all her. "Will you just leave me alone!"

"Who are you yelling at?" Emma whipped around, surprised, terrified, and gaped at her father standing at her door way. His brows were furrowed and his arms were crossed. "Well?"

Thinking quickly, she stammered out a, "I'm s-s-sorry, I was having n-nightmare."

He frowned, unfolded his arms and approached her. Emma stiffened and leaned away, thinking she was in trouble, but then he took her into a loving hug. "My little angel," he mumbled, and Emma thought he might have cried a little. "I heard what happened." he leaned away from her, and inspected her. At the sight of her slightly purple eye, he frowned. "Are you in much pain?"

"It...it only stings a little, father."

He gestured to her torso. "And your ribs? Your mother told me they smart quite nastily."

She looked away. If he saw her eyes when she told him a lie, he would know. Her father always knew. He grabbed her chin and made her look at him. "Emma, do not lie to me." and he always knew when she was trying to avoid the truth, or the situation it was involved in. "Answer me."

"It...it hurts." she mumbled.

"I cannot believe the academy allowed this to happen to you," he brushed hair behind her ear. "How blind have I been to think things could change, to think that I would have time before it escalated any further. A fool...a true fool."

Emma didn't like the way he was talking. "Father, it's okay."

He looked at her sharply. "No it isn't. Emma, you were attacked in the halls of your academy. How could you think any piece of that is okay?"

Because I deserve everything that happened to me, she thought.

Fool! The voice howled.

"Why?" he pushed, kneeling before her. "Tell me why you would think its okay for them to hurt you."

"I'm a nobody," she told him quietly. "Why d-d-does it matter what happens to me?"

Her father said, "You are not a nobody. You are my daughter. You are the princess of Figaro."

"What are t-those things?" she asked him, getting angry again. "What does being a girl get me?" he looked stunned. "What d-does being a princess get me?"

"Emma—"

"They don't care about those things," she snapped at him. "So why should I? I just want to be left alone!"

"And you think you can achieve that desire by staying at Sunset?" Emma hadn't expected her mother to mention that to her father just yet, and fumbled over a response. "Yes, I heard about that." he stood, and those blue eyes shone with that regal shine. The one that always meant something bad for her. "Why would you think I would allow it after today?"

"Please father, please let me stay! It is okay, I don't care if they hurt me, I just want to stay!"

"What?" he shouted. "You don't care if they hurt you?" he shook his head. "I cannot believe how far I have let this go..." he looked at her, eyes stern. "You are not going back to Sunset. Your mother and I will be sending you to East Gate or Gale, or any other place, so long as it is far away from Sunset and the children there!" as he went on, Emma felt as if she were going to throw up. All she heard was that she would be sent away to an all girls academy, of which the peers were mostly daughters of on duty soldiers. It was a boarding house, where parents could leave their daughters behind and forget all about them. Was that what her father was doing? Was he trying to get rid of her?

Do you see now? the voice asked quietly. We are nothing to them.

Tears filled her eyes. No... she thought, trembling, from anger and grief. No! "No!" her father paused, surprised by her outburst. "No, I will n-not go! You can't make me!"

"Emma—"

"No, no, no!" she cried, squeezing her eyes shut and placing her hands against her temples. "No!"

"Emma, calm yourself this instant!"

Realizing she had silenced him, and in the most inappropriate ways imaginable for a child, she looked down, flushed.

She hated this about herself...the inability to control herself and act accordingly to what her parents wanted, to what society needed. She was fully aware she was just as childish and idiotic as her brothers and peers told her she was. This was just another example of it, her inability to fit in anywhere. She was the mismatched piece of a puzzle, warped beyond its ability to fit into its place. A bird that could not fly or sing. A clock that did not tell time. She was broken. Useless.

Frustrated tears threatened to bubble up but her refusal of showing her father just how screwed up she was kept them in place. When she felt strong, warm hands envelop hers she looked up at him. He had a solemn expression on, of understanding and yet that of a man who held hold firm on what he believed. He squeezed her hands a bit. "Emma, my princess, don't you want to be away from those that torment you? Wouldn't it be easier to live in a school that is less likely to result in your pain? East Gate is just as good as Golden Lion, and just as beautiful, with wonderful professors that very well rival if not beat out the ones at Golden Lion. I...your mother and I would feel so much more at peace knowing you are safe. Wouldn't you want to put your mother's heart at ease?"

No...yes...but that would mean living there. I know why you want me to go father, the least you could do is be honest. She thought weakly. Was it so hard to be truthful with her? Did she not at least earn that? "Then...then why aren't you s-s-sending away Cambyz...Camb and Ben to East Gate? Why do you want me to go? I don't want to be there."

Her father gave her a strange, puzzled look. "I do not want you to leave," he said, jaw clenched. "I do not want you to ever leave your mother and I's side again, but what I want means little against what you need."

"And...and I need to leave?" she asked, letting her tears fall.

"It is for your own good," he insisted. "You must understand that I cannot permit you to stay somewhere that allows others to abuse you."

"What difference does it make?!" she snapped. "This happens to me no m-m-matter where I go!"

"It won't at a private academy, it will—"

"It will what?" she cried. "C-change? No it won't."

"I must try what I can to make your life easier. I must. As your father."

Emma felt the anger swelling in her, and then quickly dismissed it, fearing whom it belonged to. The tears came faster, and at a loss of words, of what to say to convince him to let her stay, she stammered out a request to be alone, before she would break into a sob.

"My dear girl..." he reached for her arm, but she pulled away.

"Please..." she kept her eyes down, fighting with all her strength to keep from bursting into tears there. When she was certain her father was gone, she crumbled to the floor and wrapped her arms around herself, letting the tears overwhelm her at last.

••••••••••••

Terra had heard about the talk from her husband when he came back to the study later. Edgar looked so exhausted, even afraid, and it made Terra not only worry for her little angel, but her husband as well. First though, she had to be sure her daughter was okay. She wanted to immediately go to her, but her husband held her back and told her that Emma needed some time alone. She had argued, of course, but in the end Terra did not know what truly would be for the best.

Emma never came down from her room to eat supper with them and Terra ended that day with such regret, she could not sleep.

In the morning, she got up earlier than her husband and quietly made her way to her daughter's room. She did not want to wake her daughter if she were asleep, so she opened the door and quietly peaked in. Her daughter was asleep, sprawled out under her blankets, deep asleep. Terra approached carefully, certain not to make a noise, and just watched her daughter sleep for a long moment or so. And then, worried, she took the quitted blanket off the chest at the end of the bed and tucked it in around her daughter.

"Sweet dreams, my love," and then Terra kissed her daughter's forehead and exited the room as quietly as she had entered.

Not at all willing to let her daughter feel unloved, Terra hurried to the great hall and began a spoiling of epic proportions. It was all she could think of doing, short of promising her daughter she could stay. And she wouldn't. Her daughter's attack within academy walls had cemented that for her. One way or another, Emma could not stay at Sunset. Terra at least hoped she could take her daughter's mind off the gloominess of the subject by distracting her with sweets and such.

She prepared pastries, sausages, ham, eggs, hashed potatoes, waffles, bacon, toast, fruits and of course omelets. It took hours, but by the time she was done, the smells had called in her children. Well. Most of them. Her sons appeared, drowsier, but drooling. Terra laughed and topped plates for them, and then sat down to await her daughter. Noticing her rather distracted nature, her sons asked her what the special occasion was.

Well, they had to know sooner or later. And at least knowing now they could protect their sister at the academy until her transfer to East Gate or Gale. "I am...spoiling your sister."

Cambyses frowned. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"Why do you say that?"

"Mother, the whole academy is talking about her."

"What do you mean by that?" Terra felt a surge of worry. "What are they saying about her?"

"Some kids are saying she started the fight," Benjamin chimed in. "They said she just screamed and attacked someone." he took another bite of his food. "They are calling her a lunatic."

Terra felt such anger. "My daughter would never start a fight, at least not a violent one!"

"Of course not," Camb agreed. "It is common knowledge that she has a very fragile temper. One of the kids must have pushed her too far and she reacted. There is no way little Emma would ever raise a hand first."

Well, at least her sons agreed with her on that front. "So, this spoiling isn't because of that?" Ben asked.

"No," Terra admitted quietly. "Your father and I have made the decision to move your sister to another academy." Her sons were quiet, but it was clear on their faces they did not disapprove of the decision. That was something Terra caught immediately. "You approve, then?"

"Sunset was never the place for her," Camb said.

"The students there are spoiled and cruel," Benjamin clarified for his brother. "Someone like Emma never should have been allowed to attend, when she feels so strongly on everything."

"But you and father let her go because she asked," Camb added, sipping at his orange juice.

Terra pinked a little. Emma had begged and begged to attend the academy, and both she and Edgar knew that Emma only wanted to go so she could be closer to her brothers. It was a mistake, one that sadly took its time to reveal itself. "So then you understand why I am spoiling her today. She did not take the news very well."

"Emma takes no news very well," her youngest son corrected her. "She will learn it is the best decision for her, when she doesn't have to deal with the vileness of girls her age or the cruelness of the boys."

"Your father and I are worried it will happen at the other academies, too," Terra confided. "It...it scares me."

"Don't be scared," Cambyses told her. "East Gate is a private school, where the children are carefully selected for admission. A lot of the kids are like Emma, in one way or another. The best decision would be to send her back to Cambidge, but I suppose that is unrealistic given the distance."

"It is," Terra told him firmly, getting a little annoyed.

Cambyses laughed. "Easy mother, easy."

There was a creak behind them and then in came Emma, rubbing at her eyes. Terra passed her sons a quick look and stood. "Emma, sweety, good morning." her daughter mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'good morning' and found a spot at the table. It was a good sign. If she were really upset, she wouldn't have come down from her room at all. Terra recalled the many episodes on Thamasa that resulted in her sulking away in her room. Sometimes for days. The worst had been when she and Edgar could not make it to her piano recital. Relm wrote to them to tell them that she had quit her piano lessons and had, at the time of the letter, been in her room for three days straight.

"Are you hungry, my love?" she asked her daughter, watching her carefully.

Her daughter's pale mismatched eyes went to her then, and they were clouded by tired tears and confusion. "What?"

"I asked if you were hungry." she repeated, smiling. Emma nodded but said nothing. It was obvious to them all she was till too disoriented from just waking up. Terra prepared a plentiful plate for her little girl and sat it down in front of her. "I was thinking, my love...what do you say to joining me after breakfast, in the gardens?"

But her daughter was not paying attention, as she picked her way through her food. "Emma?"

The girl looked up, confused. "Huh?"

Her brothers started to giggle, but Terra silenced them with a look. "Would you join me in the gardens after breakfast, dear?"

The look in her daughters eyes was answer enough. She did not want to. Though Terra was wise enough when it concerned her daughter to neither take it the wrong way or to assume she knew the reasons behind her daughter's actions. However, she wanted to convince her. "We could visit the orchard, or the vineyard, maybe see to the new plot for the gardens. Anything, really."

"I..." she frowned. "I r-r-really can't go b-back to Sunset?"

Her mother sighed. She was hoping the attitude she was getting was not because her daughter was still upset about that, but it was a hard wish from the start. "For now, you are to stay home and recover, my love."

"But I'm fine," she insisted. "I'm fine!"

"Stand up," Terra said, standing. Her daughter look flustered, but did as she was told. Terra came around the table to her side and gestured to her arms. "Lift them, then." Emma, with cheeks bright red, tried to lift her arms. Her left side hurt her so much she cringed and fell to her chair for support. "Fine, are you?"

"It only h-hurts a little," she mumbled. "I promise."

"Do not lie to me, young lady!" Terra said, feeling annoyed that her daughter felt the need to lie over something so serious. "You are not going back until you are healed, and when you do, you are only staying until you are transferred. Do you understand me?"

Emma glared back at her, alarming Terra. Emma had so easily shown her anger before, sure, but Terra had been the object of that stare. It was always her husband that received the look. They both always dealt with her tantrums, sure, but Edgar had decided to do most of the "bad parent" stuff early on. He did not want his daughter to feel anything but love and adoration for her mother. Terra knew in some way Edgar took that spot because he and his brother grew up without a mother. Terra wanted to tell Edgar that the situations were not the same, but he was determined to take it—even the eventual "I hate you!"s all children seemed to work through. He loved Emma with all of his heart.

"Someone's about to snap," Benjamin said through giggles. Emma turned her eyes to her brother and shouted for him to shut up before she hurried out of the great hall.

"Benjamin, why must you antagonize her when she's very clearly upset?!"

"I'm just trying to lighten the mood," he mumbled. "It's hard to always determine what is going to set her off."

"It should be obvious being told she is leaving the kingdom is upsetting to her!" Terra snapped at him. He ducked his eyes. "Do not eat all the sweets while I am gone. I baked them for your sister." and without another word, she stormed out of the room to search for her daughter.

••••••••••••

Emma was so angry.

She stormed down the hall and towards the table where she had placed her satchel. She was not permitted to go to the academy, fine, but she did not want to spend the day in the castle around her parents at the moment. Well, at least as possible if she could manage it. She pushed the doors open to the garden and hurried her way between the rows of roses and trees towards the koi pond at the far back of the garden.

She sat her satchel down and sat beneath the willow's shade. She took her time retrieving her things out of her satchel and setting them up. First were her little clear jars of pencils, both charcoal and colored, then her clothes for erasure, a pen with ink and a sharpening tool for her pencils. Then she sprawled out toward the pond, elbows nearly at the edge of the water, and brought her sketch book before her. Try as she might though, she could not find the desire or will to draw. After a long moment of trying, she gave a heavy sigh and sat her head down against the clean pages with another sigh.

"And what is the princess of Figaro doing out here all alone? Ditching your education, I dare ask?"

Startled, Emma pushed herself back up to her knees and turned around to look at the young man that had interrupted her solitude. Alexander. He was dressed so differently than she had ever seen him before, with work attire covered in grease and scuffs, even tears at the knees. She wiggled her nose at the smell of him, the overwhelming oil and smoke making her sneeze. He laughed and approached, though he stopped a distance away from her.

"I reek of the airship industry, I know. My apologies."

Emma rubbed at her nose. "It is okay, I do not mind so much." that made him smile, but Emma didn't understand why. "Why a-are you here?"

"Is it wrong to desire your company so, dear princess?"

She pouted at him. "I'm n-not in the mood."

"That is precisely the time I should be persuading you to my side," he said charmingly. "That way, you already know the lowest of my standards."

Emma frowned. "That makes no sense."

"Oh, but it does," he insisted. "For then you know my lowest, and I can only get higher from there."

Emma burst into laughter at that. "You assume a lot."

"I only assume what you grant me."

That made her brows furrow. "What?" he merely smiled, annoying her. "Just tell me w-w-why you are."

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "I've come to see you."

Still confused, she asked, "Why?"

"Why, I'm trying to be good," he said, reminding her of what she said at the hill. She blushed and he laughed. "I have turned the dear princess red all over."

"Why are you teasing me, Alexander?" she was not happy at all by this.

He chuckled, approving of her usage of his full name, and sat down beside her, leaving her with a respectable gap between them. "I quite like that, you using my full name." he said. "Perhaps I ought let more use it." and then he plopped into the cool grass beside her and stared up through the wispy canopy of the willow.

"It is your name," she said, annoyed. "Why don't you w-want people to use it?" He chuckled, which only furthered her annoyance along. "If you do not mind, I would like to be alone."

He looked at her, smiling. "And if I do mind?"

She frowned. "What?"

"What if I mind leaving you alone? What if I want to stay here, with you?"

Emma blushed. "I don't want you to stay. Dealing with you is n-not something I planned on."

"Well then," he plucked a piece of grass and twisted it between his fingers. "There is an easy solution. You could rewrite your plans and include me."

"Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?" he asked.

"That doesn't answer me," she pointed out, getting very irritated with him now.

Another smile. "And that doesn't answer me, either."

Emma stared into his dark purple eyes, confused. Why did he always irate her? Why did she let him? She frowned and looked away from his eyes, very much aware that her palms were getting sweaty and she had no idea why. "No," she managed to mumble, feeling frustrated with herself.

"No?" he repeated, amused. "Is that your answer then, no?"

She was just noticing how pretty his eyes were. That thought confused her, and made her even angrier. She took a staggering breath, and mumbled, "Yes..."gods help me get rid of this oaf...

Alex started to chuckle. It was starting to feel like he knew he frustrated her. It had to be the reason why he was always teasing her, why he always laughed at her. "Well then," he said. "I suppose I must then rework my schedule to include yours."

"W-What?" she asked. "That doesn't make any sense either."

"Oh, don't think too much on it my sweet princess." and then he sat up swiftly and lifted an eye brow at her. "By the way..." he stared for a long moment. "What happened to you?"

She was so startled by that, that she just gaped at him. He reached up and touched his face, to indicate what he meant. She blushed. "Oh..."

"Did you fall when I left you the other day?" he sounded very worried. She did not feel right lying to him, when he was only ever kind to her.

"No, I..." she hesitated. "...the kids at Sunset." she did not want to say anything more than that, so she hoped he would understand. Thankfully, he had. His eyes turned almost murderous.

"The other kids attacked you?"

"It...it doesn't hurt too much," she offered, hoping it would calm him down. It didn't.

"I should hope your parents have dealt with this, and dealt with it severely."

"I...I don't know." she mumbled. "And...and I don't want to talk about it."

He laughed, and then nodded. "That is more than fair, princess." he paused a moment, and then said, "So then, what do you say to my proposal?"

"Your what?" she asked. She didn't remember him mentioning any proposal.

"Why, the date, of course." he smiled.

Her cheeks burned. "A date?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Since you are restricted to the castle, whatever reasons that might be, perhaps you would be willing to join me on my tasks within the castle, just for today?"

"I...I..."

"We could spend some more time together," he added, staring with those deep purple eyes.

Emma felt so flustered, and frustrated. "I..."she took a steady breath. "I can't. I have the a-academy and...and...and I am not allowed to leave."

Alexander laughed then, surprising her. "That is quite alright." he got up, swift and steady. "Then we must go as soon as you are able. And, sweet princess, I shan't take no as an answer."

And then she made the mistake of looking at his eyes and crumbled. "O-okay."

He dramatically hooted and pumped his arm into the air, happily "Perfect!" he laughed. "It is a date then, lovely girl." her blush darkened. "I'll see you then." he bowed deeply. "Have a wonderful day, Emma." and then he was off.

Emma stared after him, confused, and yet something in her quite happy.

A...a date?

••••••••••••

Edgar was rather pleased with how the week had been going with his daughter. He thought she would be too furious to do much else but sulk in her room, but she did not fight either of them when asked to join them on walks or such. He had no doubt, of course, that his daughter was still furious over it, but one of her many endearing characteristics was that, no matter how angry she was with someone (especially family) she still adored them to pieces.

Her loyalty to family would always remind him of one of their visits to Thamasa, when she was about ten. His boys had convinced their sister that if she looked into a mirror longer than five seconds, she would be sucked in and never to be released. Edgar and Terra went the entire visit wondering why their daughter was hiding away from mirrors and eventually smashing them. When they had sat her down to tell her that her brothers had played a trick on her, she was nothing but relieved. It hadn't crossed her mind to be angry with them, not until they returned later to make fun of her for believing them. Then her temper had sparked. She forgot about it the next day though, and was back at adoring them to pieces.

At the moment, she and his wife were sitting beneath the willows in the main garden, enjoying the gentle breeze and a plate of crispy cookies. Emma was of course engrossed in some book, and his wife content with just being in her company, watching.

Edgar approached quietly. "Ah, my favorite women in the world, gathered in one place."

Terra passed him a smile. "Good afternoon, dear."

"What in heavens are you two do sitting here, when the weather is so fine?" he hadn't seen his wife waving a hand at him until it was too late.

"It's too cold," his daughter offered him quietly, as if that was enough on its own to answer him.

It was certainly not cold this fine day, not even close to it. He knew better than to argue it with her though. Their daughter has always felt the temperatures differently than the rest of them. She preferred her baths scalding and faired well in the heat. Her exhaustion, however, seemed to agitate no matter the temperature if it were severe enough. It was part of the reason they had selected Thamasa, because the temperature stayed rather inviting year round. When it wasn't, she was kept within the castle walls, warm or cold.

"I see," he said after a moment, considering how to approach how it was not, and deciding it wasn't worth it. "Does that mean then that you two ladies do not wish to join me today to fish?"

Emma wrinkled her nose. She did not like fishing. When she first saw the little fish in pain, she started to bawl her eyes out. She was seven then. Even now at thirteen she could not stand to see it, despite loving the taste of fish. She was a gentle soul. "I take that as a no, my dear daughter?"

She shifted her book a bit. "I'm f-fine reading."

"And I suppose I cannot detach my lovely wife from your side, either." Terra giggled. "I stand here, wounded, by the two most important women in my life. It is beastly."

"You have sons, Edgar. Take them fishing if you must fish."

"I wanted to fish with the women in my life, dear, not just fish." he sighed, feigning great hurt. "I suppose I shall return back to my duties then. Let it be known that I, Edgar Roni Figaro, tried to steal his women away but was deterred."

"It's noted," Terra said and their daughter giggled, never removing her eyes from her pages. A book worm through and through.

"Fine. I can see when I am not welcomed," he said, laughing. "May you ladies have a fair evening." he bowed to them and hurried off before his wife could tease him further before their daughter.

He reluctantly made his way back into the interior of the castle, hesitantly intent on returning to work despite the free hours he had managed to build up for himself. The solar was packed full of his advisors. Some of them did not think transferring the princess right now was a good idea. They argued that they needed a month at least to finalize services and guard duties, and insisted that those provided by the academy could not be trusted. Those that were for moving her immediately shared the same concerns, but insisted that the princess should not have to endure anymore violent bullying.

Suon believed the girl needed to leave the academy and immediately as well, but acknowledged the risks of moving her without months of preparation. Hals could not find a position to stand on and chose not to provide a voice on it, only help on whatever was decided.

In the end, Edgar still had his worries, but he had concluded that his daughter must go—and as quickly as humanly possible. The decision had been made with his wife's vote as the tie breaker, and since he already knew Terra agreed, the discussion ended there.

However, with his daughter set to return to Sunset tomorrow, until the leave, Edgar held Suon and Hals back as the rest of the advisors scurried out of the room.

"Yes your majesty?" Suons asked.

"Emma is set to return to her schooling tomorrow until the transfer, but until then, she will be left defenseless."

"Do you require us to detail her, your grace?" Hals asked.

"Yes, but of course asking my generals to do so would be unacceptable. You have business within the castle. Instead, I want the Queen's guard to select three of their finest and equip them to my daughter's security detail."

"A wise decision," Suon nodded. "The Queen's Guard is second only to the Golden Lions in skill, but exceedingly more reputable."

"One would think the populace would hesitate to antagonize a princess, but if they are stupid enough to do so when she has a knighthood at her back then they deserve all the misery they receive." Hals mumbled. "I shan't feel remorse for them."

Nor I, Edgar thought reluctantly. The thought of children hurting his daughter was upsetting, far more than those vile snots being punished for their cruelty. It was not something he felt strong enough to say out loud, though. "Please have it ready before my daughter rises tomorrow. You know how she gets when she is excited."

Suon laughed. "Aye, we certainly do. Rest assured my king, we will have things tidied away in time."

"It is well to know, thank you gentlemen."

••••••••••••

Before Emma knew it, the mandatory fortnight restriction came and went far quicker than she expected.

In that time she spent quite a lot of it with her mother, sometimes even forcefully. Despite how angry she was with her parents, she did appreciate it. She hadn't spent so much time with her mother since she arrived at Figaro. And Emma did not consider her involvement with the Antlion race "spending time" with her mother. The days she shared now were just between her and her mother, not for countless men or her brothers. They spent hours in the gardens, either watching the beauty of nature, or drawing. Her mother wasn't a very talented artist, but Emma suspected she only drew to do something with her. And that was enough for Emma.

Other days they would head into town, with a swarm of soldiers of course, and shop for hours. They ate at all of the fanciest restaurants—Emma was actually allowed to have one sweet from every restaurant!—and visited every literature shop within city limits. Emma procured dozens of new books and at her mother's worry, promised she would read them all.

Sometimes her father would be free for a few hours a day, and he would join them. He did not engage in anything overtly feminine, but he did walk them into the modistes and ahem'd and mmm'd whenever Terra asked how something looked on them. Emma would giggle every time, because her father's face would turn bright red and he would turn away and mumble something under his breath. And then he would hand over the gil, further making him mumble and groan about. And when they were still within the castle, her father would join her and her mother on long walks in the garden. They were always quiet during those walks, Emma had noticed, and yet it seemed as if they were having a thousand conversations all the same.

Eventually though, the days drew on and it could not be acceptable for Emma to lounge about the castle any further. Her education was not only necessary, it was required by the Crown. Her parents allowed her to return to Sunset, but made it very clear this was not permanent.

At that moment, she was standing in the great hall, satchel over her shoulder. Her brothers were still munching away at the tables when she started getting scolded out of nowhere. Preemptive in all entirety.

"Remember girl," her father said suddenly. "You will be attended by your guard until you reach your classes and when you are through there, you will be walked back to the carriages the same way. Do not attempt to ditch them."

Emma looked at her mother for help, but the woman simply looked back to her task. It was clear she agreed. Emma felt so frustrated. "Why...why can't they just wait outside the academy?"

"You know why," he said, getting angry now. "Do not test us further on this. Boys?" they looked at him. "Be sure she follows the rules and let me know if she tries to break them."

"Father!" she cried, indignantly.

"Now go, before my patience is run thin." he waved them off.

Cambyses took her by the shoulder and started guiding her out of the hall. Emma tried to fight him all the way, earning her brothers' ire. When they finally made it to the carriages, she yanked out of his hand and stumbled forward.

"Why must you be so stubborn on everything?" Cambyses demanded, exasperated.

"I don't n-need to be cowed around!"

Benjamin laughed. "Yes, Camb, don't cow our sister around." that made them both start to giggle hysterically.

She blushed. "Shut up Ben!"

"Come now Emma," her brother said. "Just do as you are told. You are only going to irritate father more by defying him." She pouted. "And none of that, either."

"For once, make things easier for yourself," her oldest said as he helped the carriage driver set up the chocobos. "Father and mother are only doing what they think is best for you. It's cruel to be like this towards them."

"I'm being cruel?" she squeaked angrily. "It is e-easy for you to say, Camb! They never want to send you away!"

"That's true," he remarked, looking at her. "Then again, I'm not struck with Sand Fever and violently bullied, am I?" that shut her up, so he added, "Can't you see it from their perspective? They do not want to lose you and the fact of the matter is that the academy is directly responsible for your suffering. Why do you even want to stay?"

Emma thought of Lucas and her family, and it would always make it worth the abuse at school to be near. She began to cry, which made her brother stop his work. "I...I don't w-want to be alone again."

He sighed and walked over. "Emma, you are never going to be alone, even when you are hundreds of miles away. Love is not something that must be seen to be love. Mother and father will never stop loving you, no matter where you are."

"Think of it as a show of love itself," Ben added. "Hells, if Camb and I had been bullied at your age, we would have been instructed to deal with it diplomatically. We would not have been sent away. All this means is that they love you so much they don't want even the slightest risk against you."

"But...but..." she was sobbing now. She knew it was pathetic of her, but she couldn't help it. "I...I d-d-don't want to leave you."

Benjamin frowned and went over to lay a hand on her shoulder. "We don't want you to leave, neither do our parents, but we know you must. We know you need a better life than what can be given to you here."

"We will visit," Camb said. "Mother and father too."

"You hardly visited before," she mumbled, sniffing.

"To be fair, you were thousands of miles away, on an island," he laughed. "Now you will only be a few hours north by bird. There will never be so much issue as there was before."

"At least give it some thought today," Ben asked. "At least then you can protest mother and father on some meritable ground." Emma wiped at her nose and eyes, and then nodded. "Good! Now, let us be off, shall we? I do not want to face the wraith of our academy."

••••••••••••

Terra did not have the strength to tell Edgar that she disagreed in the way they were going about transferring Emma to her new academy. It was not that she disagreed with the idea of doing so, only with how they presented it to her. At the same time, Terra could not find a part of her that had the strength to argue with Emma over it either. This was much too serious an issue to let her daughter have her way this time. There were people hurting her, and that could not stand.

In some other world she might have unleashed a demon on those who had raised a hand to her, but she had never had that temper. Somedays she wished she did, especially when the council gave her and her family trouble, but it never seemed to raise within herself. She just wanted peace, and a life worth looking back on when she was old and gray.

Celes had told her once that she was way too soft, too complacent, but Terra did not know how that could be a problem. Until her first toil with the council. Now it was every day she thought back on her friend's words and felt powerless against the cruelty of the world that seemed insistent on bringing her and her daughter pain for what they were and looked like.

"Edgar," she said, walking into the solar, nervously. He was reading over something then. "I...I need to talk to you."

"Of course," he said, setting aside the documents to gesture to a chair beside him. "What is bothering you, love?"

"I...I just want to know when we are going to transfer her."

"I see," he mumbled. "The admission agents will be here shortly. We will know then."

"Would it be...immediate? When we decide which academy?"

He chuckled and reached out to take her hand. "It can be as long as we need, but do remember love that she needs her education." Terra tearfully reached out to hold him in a hug. "I know Terra, I know, but this won't be like Thamasa. We will be able to see her more than we could before."

••••••••••••

When they arrived at the academy, the soldiers that had accompanied them in an additional carriage took formation outside of hers, rigid in their stances. The perfect soldiers. Emma blushed as she opened the door and one of them promptly went to help her step down. The few students still outside the academy stopped to stare, some not even bothering to hide their laughter.

"Princess," one of them said, holding an arm out. Benjamin exited out behind her then. "Take my arm and I will walk you to your classes."

"I...I can do that myself."

"Ahem," Benjamin cleared his throat. "Do not make us remind you..."

"C-C-cant you walk me instead?"

"And miss our classes?" Cambyses asked. "No. There is no reason you cannot be accompanied by your guard."

Her brothers left her then, without even waiting for another argument. The guard beside her cleared his throat and held out his arm again. This time. she accepted it. She kept her eyes down as she was walked into the academy and to her first class. "Here we are," the soldier said suddenly, stopping them. "I shall wait in the halls for you, princess. Please do not leave the hall without me." and then he stood there, waiting, until she slowly made her way into her first class room.

Strangely enough, her return was met with a defining silence. There wasn't even a look passed her way. She was being completely and utterly ignored. She found that so very relieving, until the minutes rolled on and she began to fear why this sudden change came about. When the clock rang, issuing the end of the first class, she came to realize that her parents had definitely intervened with the academy and all of the kids had found out. When she began to walk out of the class room, at the far end of the line, head down, she could feel some eyes on her.

Head down, she reminded herself. Don't look at them...

Outside the door, her soldier had been patiently waiting. At the sight of her, he drew himself into attention and then began following close behind her.

The next class was much worse. When she stepped into the room, every pair of eyes was on her, glaring. Emma swallowed and quietly headed to her seat in the far back. She checked the seat for any forms of trickery. There were no tacks, no glue, no gum...nothing. Unsure still though, she checked underneath and then inside her little cubby desk. Nothing. She was so distracted by her task she did not hear the professor demanding she take her seat. Not until he was at her side.

"Princess!" She looked up, sharply, surprised. "I said take your seat or are princesses too good for them?"

"I'm s-sorry professor." she sat her satchel down are her left side, away from kids, and took her seat. He shook his head at her and returned to the front of the class.

As the professor delved them into today's lessons, sometime in, someone tapped her shoulder. She turned to see who it was but they were all looking down at their books. She frowned and returned to her notes, but it happened again and again. The final time she ignored it, glaring down at her writing, until something was flicked onto her table. A neatly folded piece of paper. Alarmed, she took it and glanced at the faces in the direction it had come from. No one was looking at her.

She went to unfold it, when the professor's voice seared through the classroom. "Princess!" she looked up, frowning. "This isn't the time for your gossip and fraternization!"

"But it's not—"

"Enough!" he snapped, waving her up. "If it is so important, you can read it in front of the class."

Her eyes widened. "Professor, it isn't mine!"

"Oh, is that so? It just happened to be in your hands? Get up here now, young lady!" With a sigh Emma walked to the front of the class and handed him the note. He shook his head and gave it back to her. "No, you are going to read it to everyone, since it was so important to interrupt the class for it." She gaped at him. "Right now or you will take a week's worth of detention." the class was trying to suppress their giggles.

Emma unfolded the note and read it herself first, and then looked at her professor with wide eyes. "Please...it isn't mine..."

"Now. And face them." he said, gesturing for her to turn to them.

Slowly, she faced them and looked down at the note. Tears began to cloud her eyes. Her professor repeated himself and she began.

Emma, Emma,
too fat to fit,
Emma, Emma,
too ugly to see,
Emma, Emma,
too bad you're here.

Emma, Emma,
like a dog,
Emma, Emma,
too hard to teach
Emma, Emma,
put it outside

Emma, Emma,
That's where you belong
in the mud and muck
with the dogs and the rats
so go now
and be gone

Emma was trembling when she finished reading it, her stammers along the way only further erupting the class into laughter. She finally let her tears fall, which only made some of them point and joke. The professor seemed stunned by it, staring stupidly at Emma, until something clicked in his head and he took the note from her. He looked apologetic as he put the note away in his desk. "Alright," he said to her quietly. "I..." he swallowed hard, clearly embarrassed, maybe even a little frustrated. "Take your seat, princess."

Emma walked her way back to her class, sniffing, when someone pushed a bag out in front of her and she tripped. She flailed mid-air for half a second or two and smacked down into the floor with a thud. The class started laughing anew.

"Walk much?"

"Use all four, like a real animal," someone said. "It'll be easier!"

"Enough!" the professor howled at the unruly class, and surprisingly they had quieted. He hurried over to help her up. "Are you okay, princess?"

Tearfully she nodded, aware that blood was tricking down her mouth to her chin. She had bitten her tongue very bad. He frowned. "No, you aren't." he sighed and helped her steady herself. "Alright, that's enough for you today. You will go see the medical office and have your escort take you home. I will let the Dean know in advance."

"But...but..."

"Do not argue with me, girl," he snapped. "Now go." he handed over her satchel and prompted her towards the door again. "Go, I said." and reluctantly, she exited the class room. "Wait!" she heard, and turned to see the professor approaching the door. He moved her aside and located her guard. To her horror, he relayed the events directly to him, ordering him to tell the king and queen, and then let them be, closing the door behind him.

Her soldier looked at her, sternly, but there was compassion in his eyes. "They do not deserve you, princess." he told her. "Do not let their cruelty turn you." he held his arm out. "Come, let us hurry. There is no reason you should linger here when you need not to." she took his arm and let him walk her to the medical office, in the far side of the academy.

When they were there, there was nothing really that could be done about her bit tongue, but the officers there helped clean her up and gave her a class of salty warm water to gargle with. It stung something fierce, and she wanted to spit it out, but the officer shook his head and crossed his arms. For a minute, she gargled, and when it was over she spat it out into the sink and blergh'd.

Her guard laughed. "The sting is good for you, princess." She shook in disgust and even the officer offered his laugh. "Come now, it's not that bad."

"It w-w-was horrible."

He laughed again. "So it was." he looked to the officer. "I need to bring the carriage around and help the others re-tack the chocobo. I cannot bring her out into the heat to stand about. Would you watch her until I return? She is not to leave this room."

The officer nodded. "Of course, it would be a great privilege."

And with that, her guard hurried off to do his task. The medical officer directed her to a part of the office where she could sit and relax. They were long benches with little pillows on them, set beside a long table. Once she was seated, he left and returned quickly with a bowl of fruit and a glass of tea. He sat them down and ushered her to a seat. "I do not know if you had taken your evening recess and it is important you get a healthy caloric intake, so please," he gestured to them. "Eat your fill. I will return in a few minutes." as he walked away, he turned to look at her. "Do not leave that spot, princess." and then he was gone.

Emma was quite hungry.

She ate as much as she dared from the bowl; an apple, a banana and even an orange, and then drank all of the delicious iced tea. By then, half an hour had gone by and neither her guard or the officer returned. Bored, she laid out along the length of the benched sofa and looked at the room, trying to distract herself from the painful bite on her tongue by counting the swirls on the roof.
She got to thirty eight before she was interrupted.

"If it isn't the goblin princess!"

Emma shot up, alarmed. Standing in the door way were two boys, both friends of Kysle. They were sneering at her as they approached. Emma leaned away when they stood before her, trembling

"What should we do with her, hmm?" one asked his friend.

"I don't know, Kebian," the other answered, smiling. "Something fun."

"Y-you are not s-supposed to be in here!" she told them.

"We didn't ask you, did we?" the nameless one snapped.

Kebian laughed. "She's always sticking that freak nose of hers in others' conversations, isn't she?"

"You—you h-have to l-l-leave!" she shouted, stuttering fiercely. It was always the most difficult to speak clearly when she was scared, or excited, or frustrated.

Kebian made an exaggerated face, to mock her intelligence, and mocked her with, "you...you duhhh you can't be in here duhhh." the boys started to laugh over that. Tearfully she looked away. "What you got princess can't be cured. You're a mongrel. A plague."

"Shut up!"

"Shut up!" the nameless one mocked, faking a sob.

"Tell us..." Kebian said, kneeling before her. "Are those tears what you used to get Veva and Arcy suspended?"

Her eyes widened. So that was why she hadn't seen them today. Her parents had no idea what they did by having the girls suspended. The world of torment they had exposed her to. "Answer me!" he snapped, shoving her back into the bench. She gave a gentle cry and lifted her hands to offer a protective shield between them, but she knew it would not stand against his anger.

"I—I d-didn't know, I swear!"

"Your lies mean nothing to us, you twat!"

"I w-will talk to my f-father, I promise, I p-promise!" Fight, her voice whispered, but Emma ignored it. "Please, I will...I will t-talk to him."

Kebian scoffed and leaned away. "You better make this right."

"I will, I will," she cried. "I will."

He laughed. "Now, don't make it too easy!" he lifted his hand to strike her and she flinched, closing her eyes. When nothing happened, she peaked at them. They were facing the door way, pale as milk. And standing there, arms crossed, was Lucas Duan. Emma was so relieved to have been spared their bullying that she couldn't even begin to feel happy about Lucas' appearance. Kebian hid his arms behind him as the young man approached.

"Now, do not let me dissuade you," Lucas said, his eyes like burning emeralds. "You were about to hit her, weren't you?"

Kebian stammered, "N-no, of course not, Lucas...we...we were just playing around...weren't we Dann?"

"But weren't we gonna hit her?" he asked stupidly, getting a seething look from his friend.

"Look Lucas, we don't want any trouble with you," Kebian said. "She's our problem, not you."

He was calm when he said, "Then hit her. Let us see where my problem starts and ends." the threat was obvious enough even for Emma to catch it. "Do you wish to test me?" he snapped at them. When the boys angrily stormed out of the room, relief flooded through her. Lucas faced her, still as calm as ever. "I do not think they will bother you again, at least today."

"T...thank you f-for helping me."

"Hmm," he made the noise as a means of acknowledgement as he looked at her. Those eyes. Emma blushed and looked down. "I heard what happened in your class earlier, and thought..." it was not hesitation that made him pause, she knew. Whatever it was, it annoyed him. He shook his head. "Are you well?"

She nodded, fumbling stupidly for words. "I...yes..."

His eyes seemed to only get more intense. "Good. Then I must ask you something."

"Me?"

"Of course," he said simply, sounding annoyed. "Will you listen to me?"

"Yes," she said, feeling stupid because she thought she had shouted it.

"When we last spoke, you told me that you are not currently being courted." she felt her cheeks burn. "I assume that has not changed." it wasn't a question, but she nodded her head regardless, speech impossible right now. "Do you then perhaps have a gentleman planned for the academy ball?"

"No..." she wasn't sure where this was going, but it made her feel all sorts of grief. The other girls had been exceptionally cruel to her the last month about the ball. All Emma wanted to do was forget it.

"Good." he said. "Then I should like to take you." She stared dumbly at him. His eye brows furrowed toward her. "A simple yes or no will suffice."

Finding her voice, she said, "I...I...yes, t-that would be..." she knew she was crying.

He did not acknowledge those tears, or her clear embarrassment. Only her acceptance. "Good. Then it is settled." he turned away, but she stopped him, having finally recalled her worst obstacle.

"I...I have t-to ask my parents..."

He looked back her, frowning. "Then ask them. I will not wait long." and then he left the office quietly, just as he had appeared.

It took a moment for Emma to understand what had happened, and when it sunk in, she squealed happily and threw herself back into the benched sofa, giggling.

••••••••••••

Terra was busy in the main hall, brewing fresh tea, when she heard the familiar sound of rapid foot steps racing through the main hall to the back area, where she was. She smiled at the realization that she could tell which of her children it was just by the sound of it.

And then her daughter shot into the room, breathing hard, and shouting so loudly—and quickly!—that Terra couldn't make out a word of it. It was amusing though, because she could tell by her daughter's tone and expression that it was not something serious, something bad. She was excited. Happy.

"Come now darling, I cannot understand you. Calm down." she put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Calm down, love, calm down and speak." once she had successfully slowed her daughter down, and calmed her, she asked her daughter to repeat herself.

Emma's calm was anything but. She was so clearly ecstatic she couldn't even calm herself. And Terra was so heavily distracted by her daughter that she forgot to ask why she was out of the academy so early, or why a guard was waiting at the entrance, looking impatient about something. When her daughter finally recanted the day's events—and unknown to her at the time, leaving out other important things—Terra was astonished. A boy. That was what this was all about?

"I see," she mumbled, letting her daughter go as she continued on about how sweet this boy was, how she wanted to go with him to the ball so bad, but Terra could not keep her mind off that one word. Boy. A boy. A crush. Edgar had warned her he read about it in her journal, but Terra had passed it aside. She was not so deathly afraid of her daughter finding such things as her husband, but she had gone so long thinking it would never happen that this news was beyond startling. "Well...this is..." she paused, unsure. "This is...news." why did it all have to change today, of all days? As her daughter drew near to transferring academies? "And...and this boy?" she had forgotten his name already.

"Lucas," Emma chirped, smiling.

Well, Terra thought. She's certainly smitten with him. Terra did not have experience with dealing with her children's crushes, for her husband handled the boys first steps into romance. Her children from Mobliz had been adopted before she had the chance, or already had the talk. Making matters worse, Terra had never experienced it herself, unless she could fit Edgar into that role? It was worrying to her, and confusing, but Terra realized it was probably even more confusing for her daughter, whom had never dealt with the attention of boys before.

Edgar is going to lose it, she thought. "Well then...how old is this Lucas?" the brightness in her daughter's eyes dimmed and Terra knew by that hesitation it was not something she believed her parents would approve of. "Emma?"

"He is..." she hesitated again. "He is twenty and three."

Terra sighed. "Oh Emma..." she shook her head. "He is an adult."

"But—"

"No, my dear, there are no buts. He is much too old for you. And the fact that a man that age did not even ask your parents first...it is unheard of. It is wrong. Rited men are—"

"Lucas isn't Rited!" Emma exclaimed. "He's not!"

"That does not change his age, my love. The Rite of Passage is just a ceremony, it isn't a real indicator of one's..." she paused, watching the happiness slip from those pretty little eyes. "...how do you know him?"

"He's in my wing at the academy," she explained quickly. "We have three classes together."

"Have you ever talked to this man before?" she was hoping to prompt some other excuse to dismiss her daughter's request.

"Yes...a...a few times."

Terra knew promising her daughter she could go, especially without consulting her husband, was a very bad idea. And a piece of her did not like it, despite adoring how happy it made her. "I cannot say yes...but...I will talk to your father about it, tonight."

Emma gaped. "But...but father..."

"Emma, he is your parent as well. This is a very important decision. I will not make it alone."

"He will say no!"

"Emma—"

"Please mother, please!" she cried, grabbing her mother into a hug. "Please, I won't e-e-ever ask for anything ever again! Please!" she cried.

Feeling frustrated that she had to deny this of her daughter, Terra held her back and was short with her tone. "I have spoken already, young lady. I will talk to your father tonight. I cannot and will not promise you anything." Her daughter ran out of the room, crying. "Emma, wait, please baby!" but her daughter was already gone. Terra sighed when the soldier approached. "What do you want?" she demanded, a little angry. Luckily for her, the soldier was understanding and ignored it.

"I was informed to let you and his grace know of any mishaps at the academy?" A little alarmed, because her daughter had not brought a whiff of that up, she gestured for him to continue. "She was dismissed from the academy today due to bullying in class."

"What happened?"

"A few kids passed her a note that was..." he hesitated. "Not very kind. The professor did not know what it was, and had her read it before the class."

"What?!" she snapped. "As if my daughter would have been passing notes around during class! Does this man not have a brain?!"

"Your majesty, please...he was very apologetic and relieved her for the day for it. I do not think it crossed his mind..."

"And the note?" she asked, angrily. "What did it say?" and then he handed over the note. When she was done reading it, she had tears in her eyes. "Why...why must they be so cruel to her?"

The soldier shook his head. "Kids do not deal well with difference, your majesty. And quite frankly...that school is full of rather common idiots."

Yes, she thought, staring at the contents of the note with great anger. And that's why she must leave...to be with others who are considered different. Special.

She dismissed the soldier, thanking him, and finished her tea before she made her way to her husband's study. She knew as soon as he was through with his day's work he would retreat here, so she would lie in wait. Thankfully there were a lot of things for her to do in his office. There were unsorted documents, disorganized missives and such, dirty shelves and dishes and a fire place needing to be cleaned. It was a great distraction.

However by the time that her husband arrived, she felt so exhausted she didn't even want to discuss what she had to tell him. And she still had to go and prepare dinner for everyone. She sighed and relaxed into his sofa as he walked in, frowning at the sight of her.

"Heavens, wife, you look as if you raced a chocobo."

She smiled. "I just about..."

"What in heavens happened?"

She leaned forward. "It is about our daughter, Edgar."

He shook his head as he found his seat and kicked his boots off. "If she tried to fight you about the transfer, I do not want to hear it. She is going."

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she got up so she could go sit with him. He made more room for her and wrapped his arm around her. "First, I must tell you that she was bullied again today, during class."

"What?" and with that, she handed the note over.

"She was given that, and the professor...he thought she was passing notes through class...and..." she sighed when Edgar began to read it. His brows furrowed in anger. "The professor decided to relieve her of the day's work. I thank the gods that he did. Who knows what more might have happened today."

Edgar folded the note up. "She's not going back." he sat the note down on the table and leaned back in the chair. "You will tell her in the morning. She will kick and scream, but you must hold firm."

Terra frowned. "I do not argue with you on that...but that's not all that happened."

"Gods, what else?"

Terra offered a small smile. "The boy from the journal has a name." Edgar corked an eye brow. "Lucas Duan."

He grumbled. "Hopefully he falls down a flight of stairs and..."

"Edgar!" she hissed. "That's not the news though. This Lucas talked to her today and...and asked to be her gentleman for the ball."

Edgar shot up, horrified. "What?!"'

"Now, I didn't say she could go—"

"How old is he?!" he asked, practically through a cry.

Terra laughed at his hysterical tone. "He's far older than her Edgar."

"How old?" he pressed.

"Twenty and three."

"Damn fool of her to think I would ever allow that!"

"I told her he is much too old..."

"I hope you told her she is never to see him again!"

Again Terra giggled, but said, "No, I told her I would talk to you first."

"Well, you talked to me and I said no."

"We should not dismiss it so easily, dear."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Edgar...this is the first interest a boy—"

"Man!" he corrected.

She continued on as if not disturbed. "—has shown in her. We must consider that and the ball."

"I do not care if it is," he said angrily. "He is too old for her. And damn the ball..."

"Edgar!" she snapped, standing. "Now you listen to me! Argue on the basis of his age all you want, that matters, but don't you dare disregard the ball! You know how important it is."

"How is it important?" he asked. "It's a damn dance."

"It is a once in a life time opportunity," she said. "You know this. Your sons got to experience it, why not your daughter?"

"If she can find a boy her age, she can go."

"Edgar, that isn't—"

"I do not care if it is likely or not," he cut her off. "I will not send my thirteen year old daughter off with a man in his middle twenties. I will not allow it."

"You forget who is her mother," she was getting angry now. "You do not get to make the sole decisions Edgar!"

"Then we are at an impasse," he offered. "Because I am not allowing it."

Terra gritted her teeth. "Do you think I like the idea of it Edgar? I hate it! She should have been asked by a boy weeks ago, but she wasn't. The boys of her academy think she is ugly Edgar!"

"Which is absurd, because she's not—"

"It doesn't matter what we think!" she howled at him. "Right now it only matters what they think, and they think very poorly of our daughter! So your stipulation that she cannot attend unless it is with a boy her age is never going to be fulfilled. It is a miracle someone, anyone, thought to ask her!"

"So I am supposed to allow this man to court our daughter because others won't?"

"No, of course not, I'm just saying we should consider that—"

"Terra," he lifted a hand to quiet her. "It is settled. She is not going with him. Now let me rest, please, I have had a very tiring day."

All at once her patience and understanding collapsed into a boiling rage. Did he just shush her? Furiously she slapped his feet off the table and marched away from him. He sputtered stupidly after her and when she got to the door, she turned back to look at him.

"Do not ever shush me like that again, Edgar Roni Figaro!" and then she slammed the door behind her.

Terra was so blistering angry that she knew if she stayed behind she would have started screaming at her fool of a husband. And she hated feeling that way. She retreated to their room, after asking the kitchen staff to prepare dinner for her children, and then tried to calm herself down from her anger by doing a few breathing exercises Sabin had taught her. By the hour's end, her husband came sulking into the room, very apologetically and giving her the puppy dog eyes.

"No," she said, turning her head away and closing her eyes. "I will not talk with you."

"I am terribly sorry," he muttered, sitting beside her. "You know I am...I just..." he cleared his throat. "I cannot stand the discussion of it...of...our daughter...you know..."

Terra caved and looked at him. "Have you thought about what I have said?" the look he gave her then meant he did not. She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Tell me then why I should listen to you?"

Edgar said, "I understand this occasion is important, and a once in a life time opportunity, but how can you expect me to accept my daughter attending it with a man a decade older than her?"

"I do not like it either," she snapped at him. "Do you think I enjoy the idea that my daughter thinks she is ugly or some freak because all of the kids at her school tell her so every single day of her life? Do you think that makes me happy, Edgar?!"

"No, of course not—"

"Then why should I feel happy that the one soul to ever dare to ask her something like this is just three years younger than her entire life spent living?"

He was stumped by that, and clamped his mouth shut. "I don't care. I don't like it one bit. I know though that my daughter is lonely and she feels like she doesn't belong anywhere, not at home and not out of it. I know that she earnestly believes she looks..." Terra hesitated. "I just want you to consider it because it is important what we do here, Edgar."

For a long moment he was quiet, and then he said, "What if I had a boy attend with her?"

Terra gaped at him. "You mean hire someone to pretend to like our daughter?"

"No!" he said, sounding horrified. "I just would ask him to attend the ball with her. Then both problems are solved."

"I will not have our daughter be ridiculed when that plan comes to light, no." she shook her head. It was the end of that, and he knew it.

"Then...I don't see how we solve this."

Terra stood. "I suppose we don't. At least have the decency to talk to our daughter about it first...then you might understand why I'm hesitant to say no outright." and then she walked away, leaving him all alone.

••••••••••••

How could his wife even suggest it? This man was a decade older. He had extra years on him basically equivalent to the entire life of their daughter! What was his wife thinking? What was his daughter? How could she be so stupid and not...

The thoughts had immediately made him pause.

How could she be stupid? He sat back into his chair, feeling annoyed with himself. How could she know? Terra was right. She had never had this attention before, and neither of them ever gave her any sort of talk. And as far as she knew, her parents were not exactly close in age. So how could she have known it was not appropriate? Edgar groaned and covered his eyes. How had he been ignorant enough to not explain to her that age is important? That she should stay away from old hound dogs?

Who else was to blame for this, other than him? He couldn't even blame Terra for it. She wanted to sit their daughter down numerous times to explain to her parts of the world she didn't know, what to expect of people and strangers, the dangers of being a woman, the rights she would be allotted in life and most importantly, the changes one underwent at puberty. They had told her once, well not all of it, when she was nine. She had lost her memories shortly after, including the memories of her family and her time at Thamasa. Since then, Edgar could not find the strength or desire to go through it again. Terra often argued about it. Now he was realizing she was right...

What a fool I have been...

He decided that, in the morning, he would talk to his daughter about the ball and why Lucas was not the answer, and more importantly, why telling her no was important. Before he turned in for the day—too exhausted even by the idea of eating—he found his wife in their quarters. She was brushing her hair for the night, humming. He approached with his head down.

"Terra..." she paused to look at him from the reflection. "You...you were right. This is too important for so many reasons for me to dismiss it so quickly." she smiled at him and then turned around to face him.

"And?"

"And I will talk with Emma tomorrow, but...but I can't promise either of you will like the decision."

"That's fine, so long as you give it more thought about what it means." she motioned him over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

••••••••••••

The morning arrived for Edgar with much dread. He knew he couldn't back out on what he promised his wife, no matter how terrifying it was. So he gathered his strength, and his wits, and went down to the great hall, where he hoped to get this over with quickly.

Instead of his daughter made of bouncing energy, his sons sat, eating rather quickly. His daughter's satchel was on the table though. Using the opportunity, he confronted his sons.

"Boys, I need to speak with you." they looked at him in horror. "You aren't in trouble. I just need your help."

"What about?" Ben asked.

"It concerns your sister." they ah'd. "She was unfortunately approached the other day by a young man, whom asked to be her gentleman at the ball." they were equally surprised by that information as he and Terra was.

"Alright...but I do not see how we can help?"

"She was also bullied that day...for the very last time." he explained. "She will not attend the academy anymore but she has not been told just yet..."

"Oh, I see," Cambyses laughed. "And you want us to do your dirty work, hmm? Perhaps you want us to tell her she's not going? Or maybe you want us to end whoever this man is?"

Edgar blushed. "Neither!" he exclaimed, embarrassed, because he had thought of just that before. "I just need you to be understanding of her after she is told. She will be very...upset."

"You mean hysterical and angry and childish and—"

He stopped his youngest son. "Regardless!" he snapped. "It will be justified, in some ways. She is being asked...told...to give up so much. I need you two to behave from here on out. Do not antagonize her."

"Sure thing father," Ben said, smiling. "Does this mean...her room will be free?"

Edgar glared at him, letting it be known the joke was not funny. His son laughed and returned to his meal. "Good, now that is settled...do any of you know where she even is?"

"She ran off with a few things of bread," Camb said. "I think she's gone to the stables to help the stablemaster with the new birds."

Edgar thanked them and went on his way.

The stables was busy, it seemed. Stablehands ran around like crazy, carrying tack and feed and such. It was the busiest part of the season for the birds; the newest hatched birds were now old enough to be tacked and taught (but not ridden just yet). It would take all hands to get the job started. The newly hatched birds would still be in the stables, undergoing care from their mothers and other stablehands, or volunteers, in his daughter's case.

When he caught sight of the stablemaster, he stopped him. "Have you seen my daughter, masterhand?"

The man sighed. "Aye, I have your grace...she wouldn't take no for an answer."

Edgar laughed, nervously. That's how it always is with her, he thought. We are all too soft and giving with her...especially when she gives me those eyes... "Did she cause much trouble?"

"This season is important. We need time to teach the birds. I can't oversee that if I'm watching over your daughter, no offense of course, she's just..."

"Too much," he mumbled, getting a nod from the stable master. "I understand just fine. I appreciate you accommodating her today. She has had a string of bad news and I have to deliver even more."

The man seemed to understand something unsaid and frowned. "Poor girl. Well, she's in the back stable your grace, the pale red one." Edgar was sure to thank the man once again, for helping him and for helping his daughter, and then went on his way.

The stable stood at the far back of the older sites, its red so pale it was almost pink. Fresh seed and hay had been brought up to the double doors to be unloaded into the storage sheds at the sides of the stable. Edgar took a breath to prepare himself for this ordeal and pressed his way into the stables.

The place was relatively empty. There was one stall with a single bird in it, still too young to be brought out and trained, and at the far end of the stable, his daughter. She was fiddling with something on the wall, standing next to knee high in hay and chocoseed. When he got closer, he could see she was on her tippy-toes trying to secure a saddle rack to the wall. She couldn't quite reach even with her extra leverage and dropped the rack down upon her head. It didn't seem to weigh too much, or cause serious damage thankfully, but it hurt her enough to drag out his daughter's characteristic rage.

She recovered the rack in grumbles and—to Edgar's astonishment—threw it nearly clear across the stables. It smashed against an empty stall door with a loud bang and just as quickly as her anger had come, it was gone. That rage in her eyes evaporated into agitation and she was stomping her way over to recover it once again. She bent at the knees to lift it, and when she turned around to head back to her spot, she finally caught sight of him watching.

Her expression shifted into surprise and then worry. And then she blushed, fiercely. "Father! W-what are you doing here?"

He laughed and walked over to take the rack out of her hands. He sat it against one of the stalls and put a hand on her shoulder. "Emma my dear love, we need to talk."

Her eyes widened. "Whatever they told you did, I didn't do it!" she blurted out quickly, stammering a few times between her words, making it a bit difficult for Edgar to catch it all.

"What?" he shook his head and took her by the arm, guiding her toward a wooden bench near the back. "Your brothers? This has nothing to do with you being in trouble dear. Please, seat," he gestured and she sat, rather reluctantly. He seated himself too. "This is about so much more..."

Her brows furrowed. "...what do you mean?"

"Your mother reminded me of something important about decision making and...more," he cleared his throat. "I've come to talk to you about the academy and this man who asked you to attend with him."

Her little face fell into grief. "I know father...I'm not to go to the ball with him. Mother told me..."

"Your mother is with the impression this is complicated and so needs more thought put onto it, but that is not how I see it." he said, leaning back. "I do know this means a lot to you and we need to discuss it further, so that you understand why. For one, the reasons why he is unacceptable for you."

"I don't understand," she mumbled.

"I know," he smiled. "That's part of the reason we are having this discussion." he took a minute to think over his words, knowing how he said it could mean either disaster and success. "First...I must be up front with you, dear. Your mother and I...we...we found out about what happened in your class the other day."

She looked away. "It doesn't matter, father..."

"Do not say that," he grumbled at her. "It does matter, no matter how you fail to see how amazing you are and how much better you deserve things from others. It will always matter."

"Professor Adelin sent me home, father. I don't understand why we are talking about it..."

"Because your mother and I decided..." she was looking at him with impatience. She really did hate these discussions, especially when they came from him. To her, it was as if he was speaking riddles and she had to play a thousand guessing games to understand him. Edgar wasn't sure why it was like that for her, but he tried his hardest to improve. Was it because of her differences, or because he wasn't accustomed to speaking to his daughter? "...we decided you will not be going back to Sunset, rather you will stay within the castle until your transfer."

Her beautiful little eyes filled with tears. "...why?"

"Because it's unacceptable that your peers treat you this way Emma," he told her, a little annoyed that she couldn't grasp that. "It was too much already to ask us to let you continue going when they were abusing you physically, but to go back and on day one be tormented anew...it puts things in a starker perspective." and finding no other way to approach it, he added, "And about this Lucas..." she looked at him, almost expectantly. "...there is so much wrong with it. Even if I could disregard his age, I do not know this man. I have never met him. I have never heard of his family. Not a thing, except that he's some foreign student with no ties to Figaro, who despite being older, asked my thirteen year old daughter to a ball before even talking to me. Now I know that—"

"Lucas is nice to me father," she cut in, looking down at her hands in her lap. "He...he doesn't think my d-differences are weird or scary or funny..." she sniffed. "He d-doesn't think I s-s-should change for others..." Edgar saw the tears finally rolling down her cheeks. "He's...he's nice...he's..." she stopped there, finally letting her cries take her control away.

"I realize my love that you have a crush on this young man, I know it. You must understand though that crushes are almost always fleeting. They come and go, over and over again, especially for girls your age. You are far too young to really understand these things, let alone what you really want or desire, but a relationship with a man a full decade older than you is unacceptable and I will not allow something so inappropriate."

"...inappropriate?" she asked, furrowing her brows. "Why?"

Edgar blushed. "Why...why it is because...because I said so."

"Father, I don't understand...you and mother aren't the same age."

"Heavens girl, that is completely different!"

"Why?"

"Because she was an adult and...and...we loved each other."

"What if I l-l-love Lucas?" he knew what she really meant, a what if to understand his point better, but it still caught him off guard.

"You do not know him and could not. You do not love him."

She said, "I know him a little...but if you and mother allowed me, I could know him more and then I would know."

"Emma, please, do not make this harder than it already is. I have made my decision on the matter. You are not going with him." she tried to interrupt him, but he stopped her. "No, young lady, I have put my foot down. You do not understand why men are devious creatures by nature. They have but one thing on their mind, and trust me my dear girl, and it is ever present on their mind."

"Like what?"

And having forgotten himself, he said, "Deflowering young maidens, of course, and scheming their way with their charms and..." and then, realizing what he just said to his daughter, drew the shade of a cherry and cleared his throat. "I have spoken too far! Do not press it further, you are not going!"

His daughter was persistent though. "What is a 'deflower'?"

"That was a mistake on my part. You are far too young to know what that means!"

"But why are you telling me about if I can't know?"

Her simple question caught him by surprise and for the first time he realized that happened quite a lot around her. He looked away. "I...I...that is a fair point, my dear girl. It...it can mean a few things..." he allowed, finding himself digging a hole deeper and deeper with each word.

"Then what does it mean?"

Blushing even further, he mumbled, "I cannot tell you exactly, but...but one of them is well...you know what your brother Benjamin is scolded for when he gets caught with the maids?" he was hoping somehow she knew already about it all and he could be spared this argument, but as soon as she spoke all of those dreams had been crushed to dust.

Her brows arched up. "Kissing?" she asked, almost on the verge of laughter. "Father, they always do that. You and mother do it too. What's wrong with it?"

Edgar couldn't even find humor in her clear amusement in what she thought he meant, only horror that he was approaching the subject he decided was best be told by his wife. Stammering to find a way out, he said, "Now young lady, I said there is more too it but you are not old enough to know it." he knew his tone was a little too harsh, but he felt it was needed. "Regardless, you are far too young to be kissing anyone, let alone this Lucas. In fact, you should not even be thinking about it!"

Now his daughter was very much flustered. Her cheeks reddened. "That's gross father!" she made a face then, a cross between annoyance and disgust. Ah, so she hadn't been thinking about it. ""W-w-why would I think about that?"

He gave her a stern look. "The fact that you cannot hear me even say it without reacting like this proves my point exactly. My dear, don't you understand? If you are not even old enough to responsibly discuss this, how could I ever let you attend the the ball with this Lucas? Or any boy?"

Aghast, she said, "That's...that's not true! I...I just don't want to...to talk about it...with...with you." whether or not that was true, it did not change what he meant. He sighed.

"If you cannot talk to me about this, or if I cannot talk about it with my daughter, how can I trust that you are ready for something like this?"

She was on her feet then, angry, and yelling at him. It happened so fast. "I'm your d-daughter! You are supposed to trust me...aren't you?" he tried to get a few words in, but she would not let him. "I know you let Camb and Ben go, I know it. Did you trust them just because they are boys? Because you love them more?"

"Don't be absurd!" he gasped, horrified by it. "Gods Emma, that couldn't be any further from the truth! I love you all. You could never understand how much I adore you all, how impossible it is for me to love one more than the other, not until you have had children of your own."

"You're lying!" she cried, trembling, and it was clear as day to Edgar than that she earnestly believed it. "You a-always treat me d-differently than them, that's why you trust them o-over me over and over a-again!"

"Emma, please, let me—"

"That's why you never y-yell at them, or why you always g-g-give them what they want, or-or why you let them have their F-Free Hours after the academy but not me!"

"That isn't true I just—"

"You never punish them!" she cried. "You never take from them...you never h-hit them!"

Now he was furious, and stricken with grief. He got to his feet and took her by the arm and yanked her back to her seat so that he could stand in front of her. She fought him, tears streaming down her face, but he managed to get her under control all the same. She was rather impossibly weak, after all. "Now you listen to me young lady!" he put a finger to her nose. "I have never once in your life hit you! When you were a child, I spanked you maybe a hand full of times after you did something incredibly dangerous or stupid, but to say that I have hit you?! Do not be so cruel with me, girl!" she looked away from him then, sniffling. "As for your foolish, disobedient and often unruly brothers, I have treated them the same way that I could. When they were your age and younger, I was strict. Sometimes I even had to spank them. But I have never once raised a hand to my child to hit them just because and I do not appreciate you saying that I have!" once the rage in his heart was settled, he tried to explain himself further. "Listen to me...what I do, I do because I love you more than anything in this world. And it is because of that love that I cannot and will not trust the world with you."

With a sob, she asked, "Is...is this why you came here?" she sniffed. "To m-m-make me feel even worse?"

Edgar was so exasperated. How long had they been talking? How could he have been drained of energy so quickly just within a few minutes? How could he have forgotten how difficult it was to reach his daughter and get her to understand? How would she walk out into the world like this, not being able to communicate herself to others, to understand others? What would life be like for her, this strange, insecure and sweet child? Would she ever be ready for the world? Would the world? No, he feared that the world would never be ready for his endearing and intelligent daughter. It was a cruel, unforgiving place, one that she would never understand. And that would be the cause of such turmoil, turmoil he knew could take that sweet nature and break it into impatience and anger.

With a pain in his heart, it made him that she would be heading back to Thamasa with Relm and Gau again. Far from them. From him.

One worry at a time, he told himself, almost on the verge of tears. He blinked them away. Right now he had one concern, and that was getting his daughter—his little angel—to understand that he loved her with all his heart no matter what punishment came her way or what she might be denied. Even if it should mean she never sees this Lucas ever again. How to do it without hurting her sensitive feelings? He felt so alone and wished so desperately for his wife.

"Emma..." he reached to brush tears from her face. "...I need you to understand why I cannot allow you to go with this young man, but there are things you are not ready to hear yet. You are too young. I just need you to trust me when I say that I do what I do for your own good. It is to protect you."

"P-protect me?" she mumbled. "From what?"

"From...from the world," he said, flustered and impatient. "I know it hurts sometimes, but it hurts me just the same to deny you things or to hear you think that because I do, I hate you. I couldn't love you more than I do now."

Emma looked away and rubbed a hand against her nose. "Okay...I...I understand."

No. That was much too easy. Feeling very uneasy about her tone, he asked, "Then please explain it to me."

"I'm not enough for you," she mumbled, now digging her fingers through the little spaces in the laces of her skirt. "I...I m-messed up before and n-now you can't trust me." he knew she was referring to her little excursion to South Figaro now and while he agreed it was ample reason to show she was not mature or ready for anything the world had to offer, it gave him great pain to hear his daughter degrade herself like this. "I'm...I'm not good enough."

In what world could she not be good enough, for him or for anyone else? How could she so easily believe such horrible things about herself? He wanted to bring her into a hug, to hold her forever, but he could not. This was much too serious to push aside without saying something. "Why do you think so poorly of yourself, Emma?"

She did not stop the nervous movement with her hands when she replied. "I know it's true," she mumbled. "Everyone tells me..."

Edgar could not avoid it any further. He pulled her into a hug, pressing her against him tightly as he dared to, in fear of hurting her. "Now you listen to me, my sweet child, that couldn't be further from the truth. You are perfect just the way you are, and your mother and I wouldn't have you any other. Even when you are so very willful and stubborn, when you are little miss smarty-pants, even when you scare us and disobey us. You are our world. And they may tease you and joke about you Emma, and it may sound as if they truly mean it sometimes, but I promise you that your brothers adore you just as we do. You are a very special girl, bright like the sun, and I would hate it if you were not as you are now just to please others."

"Special?" she echoed, having calmed down a little, much to the relief of Edgar's nerves. "I...I don't want to be special."

"What's so wrong with being special?"

"Special isn't normal," she cried. "All special means is different. It means I will g-g-get bullied or made fun of...I don't want to be like me anymore."

"Emma—"

"You don't understand," she cried, trembling once more. "No one likes me! They insult me and...and..." she sniffed. "I..I don't want it anymore."

"So what do you think will change if you are attended to the ball with this young man?" he asked. "What will it change? And why would you want that?"

"Lucas asked me," she explained, frustrated. "He didn't ask Veva or Arcy, or some other p-pretty girl at the academy. He asked me. If...if I could attend the ball with him, I will...I will be closer to them. I won't be so different."

It was becoming incredibly clear to Edgar what this "crush" of his daughter's really was—a means of escape, of acceptance. Was his daughter even infatuated with the lad, or what he could give her within society? He leaned away from her and thought of the best way to phrase his next question. "Emma...do you think that is good enough reason to accept a courting from a man? Just so that others might like you?"

Her eyes widened. "W-w-what? No, that's not what I m-meant, I just—"

"It isn't a good reason whatsoever, and what is more, it wouldn't be fair to the man either, should his intentions be honorable from the start."

"No, that's not why—"

"And I know for a fact that you are a better person than that, to use someone to get something for yourself." he said. "And beyond that, I know you. You are a strong girl, a beautiful and intelligent girl, and smart people do not care for the trivial things in like, such as what others might think of them."

How he wished he had taken more consideration in his words, for she looked at him with tears in her eyes, completely misunderstanding. "Trivial?"

He gaped stupidly. "Why, Emma, I didn't mean your problems are trivial, I just meant their words are. As your mother always says, and quite accurately I must say, words cannot hurt you. It is only when you give them power that they can. In that, you can take that power too. And why does it matter so much to you to have the attention of these hooligans and delinquents? Why would you want the attention of people who think you aren't good enough as you are and must change?"

That temper in his daughter had snapped again, but it seemed more from the place of grief than straight fury. "I don't to be alone anymore!" her tone had caught him off surprise just as much as that truth had been. "I'm tired of being made fun of and told I'm ugly! I'm tired...I'm just tired." and then she covered her eyes, crying.

Was this how she was feeling all of the time? H knew from reading the journal that her time at the academy was unbearable, that the other children were exceptionally cruel to her, but he had no idea just how bad it was for her. Had it been this bad back in Thamasa, too? That couldn't be. Relm and Gau assured them that the bullying at Cambidge was rather minimal, that she had two friends, but when Edgar looked at his daughter now he couldn't quite believe that. If it were true, how could she have fallen so quickly to the idea that she meant nothing? Was it just because Cambidge was full of kids "like" her, special in their own way, that she was more comfortable?

And how could he have been so naïve as to think other kids, least of all teenagers, would behave as his daughter? They were almost always tiny devils. And although Edgar could not really understand why Emma would seek the attention of these rascals, he could clearly see she really was in a very deep turmoil. Of a loneliness neither he or Terra could change. She was craving the attention of her peers, as any child might, and was finding nothing but pain and ridicule.

He sighed. He hated the idea of letting his authority and judgment be questioned or relieved, especially when it came to his daughter, but this was his one and only little girl. And if it meant relieving some of her pain, of seeing that beautiful little smile, what was one day of giving her what she wanted? And yet, even as the words escaped him, he felt unsure. "Emma...alright, I understand." she looked at him with those big eyes, so much like her mother's. "You may go with him."

He truly was such a sap for his daughter.

Confused, she mumbled out a, "W-w-what?"

"You may go with him," he rushed out again, disengaging himself from the hug. "You can go...but it will be for this night only, and there will be strict rules to follow. Do you understand? If you break them, and I mean any of them, you will not be going with this man and I shall lock you in your room until your twentieth name day. Am I clear?"

Emma squealed happily—stinging his ears—and jumped towards him to give him a warm hug. For a moment it continued to bother him that he let her have her way, but as soon as she had hugged him, he melted away. "Thank you daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He laughed. "Alright dear, alright. How about we discuss those rules over a visit to a pub? I'm thinking your favorite dessert? And then maybe I can learn more about this...this Lucas." the idea of it angered him though, but he needed to know what about this man caught his rather particular girl and her attention.

She beamed. "Okay!"

••••••••••••

It was late by the time that they arrived back at the castle. Edgar was exhausted, and alongside his sugar high daughter, it made the night even more exhausting. When they had stepped into the great hall, Terra was waiting, looking equally annoyed as well as amused. Terra had to calm their hyperactive daughter down from her sugary foods—all of which he had given her without consulting her—and laughed when her daughter starting telling her that "father said I could go!" as loudly as her little heart could let her.

"That is...wonderful news, my love," she smoothed Emma's hair down, smiling. "It is late though and you must go get cleaned up for dinner...provided you did not ruin your supper."

Emma beamed. "I'm still hungry!" and then she was running off, the happiest they had seen in her months.

Edgar laughed. "I do believe she's telling the truth, though before you scold me my lovely wife, I only let her have two scoops of ice cream..."

Terra shook her head at him. "Edgar, I do not mind that right now. I just want to know if you are sure about this?"

"I...I let it happen." he was not sure about it, but he was sure that he wanted his daughter to be happy a little before she was transferred.

"Why did you change your mind?" she asked.

"You are right. She is lonely and hurt and...and that academy has proven itself to be the worst decision we have ever made for her. I granted her this because it is a once in a life time opportunity, but also because..." he hesitated. "I wanted to see her smile."

"That is the man I fell in love with," she giggled and brought him into a hug. "Thank you..."

"That is the last time I allow the women in my life to walk over me," he proclaimed, feigning pride.

She giggled again. "Is that so?"

"Well, it's not all that bad," he admitted, leaning forward to kiss her.

••••••••••••

The morning came about them with a great silence. Their daughter was still asleep soundly in her room, and would be for another hour or so. His sons had left early for morning training and his wife had disappeared before he woke up. He groggily tore himself from bed and, once refreshed, stumbled his way down to the great hall. Surprising him though, his wife was not making tea or enjoying the sights of the garden.

"Terra, my love?" but there was no answer. Exhausted already, he began his search. The libraries, chapel, stables, barracks and even the throne room were empty. He pressed onwards, searching even the places she ought never have gone normally—the armory and the prison cells. When that turned fruitless, he considered seeing if she went to walk the streets and talk with commoners, but something in him told him she would not be there this morning.

He made his way down the hall, feeling anxious, and stopped at the double doors made of five inch steel and locked with eight different keys and a mechanical lock. Why would she be down there? She wouldn't. They had agreed to make it only for emergencies. He reached for the locks and found that only the inward lock was engaged. He gaped. She was in there! But why? He fumbled around for his key and undid the lock, and entered. Once inside, he locked it again and made his way downstairs.

And, there in the castle's library, was his wife. She was sitting at one of the old stone benches beneath the shattered stair cases, reading from an ancient tome left by the ancient espers whom she descended from. She had one of her hands palm up, and dancing just an inch or so above her flesh, a small flame. Edgar was so astonished he could not move or speak. Terra had known it was dangerous to practice her magic even here, so why was she doing it?

"Terra!" he shouted, catching her completely by surprise. She gasped and faced him like a frightened child, the flame in her hand exploding into a spark and then into smoke. She hurriedly got to her feet, pink in the cheeks.

"Edgar, w-w-what are...what are you doing down here?"

"What am I doing down here?" he repeated, flabbergasted. "You cannot be seriously thinking that I would put aside what I just saw!" She looked down, to avoid his eyes, and immediately he began to realize just how similar his wife and daughter were. "How could you do something like this, Terra? We agreed!"

"Please Edgar, try to understand," she mumbled. "I...I need this. I feel something powerful here."

"Terra..." he rubbed at his eyes tiredly and then walked over to take her hands in his. They were still very warm from the flame. "I'm not mad, especially at you, I am just worried. We do not know how the rules of magic have changed. What used to be child's play for you could now be dangerous, deadly even. Please, I beg you, do not do this anymore."

The look he was given was one of strength and determination. "I'm sorry Edgar, but that is a promise I will not make." her eyes had tears in them. "You do not understand how it has felt to live these years without magic because you were not born with it...it was not part of you. This is who I am Edgar, it has always been what I am...what our children are." he felt uncomfortable by that, because in many ways, he did try to avoid it. "I cannot ignore it and I think...that if I learned to control it, I could teach h—"

"No," Edgar stopped her. "No, we know what will happen if we try that. We tried it once before, remember? It did not help, it only created further issues!"

"That was so long ago!" she shouted. "It is different now Edgar. Everything is different now! Magic has been getting stronger, I can feel it. It's like it's...it's becoming stable. I don't know what happened or why magic came back, but in these years since...I have felt something that I haven't since Kefka. And that is powerful Edgar, and I don't just mean by its power, but the strength and happiness it gives me."

"Terra—"

"I am getting better at this magic," she interrupted him quickly, desperately. "I can do magic almost as good as I could back then, I just need time to learn how it's changed. Look, look," she lifted her palms up for him to see and created fire. A beautiful, warm flame bloomed above her palms. "The things magic can do now Edgar...it is astonishing." and then Edgar watched in complete awe as the flame began to change form, first into a circle and then a triangle and then finally the fire compacted into a small, glowing orb that raced to the tip of her finger. "Don't you see? Magic is not only back, but it's changed in nature too. It's so much stronger, so much more capable, and in so many ways I feel it as easier."

"I don't want to tear something away from you that you find precious," he started. "But it is dangerous in our current climate. What if someone found out, Terra?"

"That is exactly my point," she said. "What if magic has changed, and Espers are no longer required to learn it? What if someone out there has learned they can create magic?" his eyes widened. "We need to be ready for that Edgar. We need to be able to fight what may come."

"Even if someone could...those of us that were in the Returners are much too old for war."

"So we do nothing?"

Edgar swore under his breath and turned away from his wife, taking a long and deep breath. "The gods only know why my life must be plagued with women I adore so endlessly..." he shook his head, knowing he'd regret this. "Fine...I will not step in your way."

Terra, teasingly, said, "As if you had the choice."

He faced her, smiling. "I will get you for that, dear woman."

••••••••••••

Alexander had to hear the news from Cambyses, of all people. It infuriated him, even if he knew the prince had no idea Alexander was interested in his sister. It was clear the prince only brought it up in front of him and Cadence because he thought showing that interest in his sister might score him brownie points with Cadence. It did of course. Cadence was already devoted to Emma as if the girl were family.

Why should I care? He grumbled as he stalked out of work. She was asked...that's all I ever wanted for her, for her to be happy. And yet a large portion of him was utterly jealous, and angry. He had wanted to see her in one of those formal dresses, to take her hands and whisk her around the dance floor, to make her smile and laugh and be happy...to kiss her. He swore the situation to hell under his breath. I'll get the bastard for it, he thought angrily as he made his way up to the princess' wing. The soldiers there stopped him, questioned him and then cleared him. It was a strange thing to do to have to see her, but he did always forget she was a princess.

The princess' door was left open. A little worried, as he had never seen her leave her door open, he walked in. He paused at the turn into her room. There she was, standing in front of a full length mirror, holding a lovely dress of dark blue and silver against her body, inspecting it, or perhaps herself. He very suddenly wanted to see her in that dress, certain she would look breath taking.

He smiled and stepped further into the room. "You will undoubtedly steal the attention of every lad there."

She turned, surprised, and smiled when she saw him. Alexander hoped it was just for him, not entirely because she was sweet like that. "Alexander," she said, and put the dress down carefully on the dress. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Why, to confess my soul unto you, of course." he bowed to her, chuckling when her stammers appeared. Unfortunately for him though, she believed him only to be a friend, someone who did to make her feel safer. There was no other context to it for her.

"Please don't say things like that," she mumbled the blush bringing out the lovely shade in her eyes and that hair.

He laughed and made his way further into her room, pleased when she did not steer him out or ask him to leave. The way he had heard it, the girl kept the sanctum of her room close to her heart, even to his surprise, to her parents. The fact that she was letting him in without a fight meant a lot. "How can I live in a world where I cannot share my inner thoughts?" he asked finally, glancing around the room. It was rather empty, for a girl her age and no funding issue whatsoever.

She smiled genuinely. "Is that Havoc le Cetra?"

"I butchered it, but yes." he knew she adored his work.

"You should know the real wording," she said brightly as she went to the other end of her dresser to get her brush.

"I like mine a little better," he said, winking at her when she turned to glare at him disapprovingly. That made her laugh. "I don't know if I should bring this up but...are you aware your family is currently getting ready to set off without you?"

Her reply was stiff, and slow. "Yes." and then she started brushing her hair.

Curiously, he asked, "...why aren't you going with them?"

"I am too sickly to travel," she said simply. "And I d-don't want to travel just to find Ben better academic op-opportunities, or to help Camb with his negational skills."

"I see..." he let the silence roam for a second, and then asked, "Did you want to go though?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm h-happy here."

"Are you?" he asked.

"Am I what?"

"Happy," he explained.

"Yes," she answered quickly, hesitantly returning to her brushing.

Raising a brow, he asked, "Are you really?"

That made her put her brush down and turn to him with a scowl. A very cute one, at that. "W-w-why are you here, anyway?"

Without immediately answering her, he turned from her and walked up to the dresser, inspecting the contents line atop neatly. There were little square toys of multiple colors, odd looking rocks, little jars of different colored sands and sea shells. And then his eyes roamed to the only image on the top. It was of her family, standing in some hall of the castle. The black and white made it difficult at first to realize who it was, but as soon as he lifted it and inspected it, he knew. It was old, very old. Old enough, in fact, that Terra was very clearly late in her pregnancy with her unborn daughter. Edgar and Terra stood to the side, with their two little princes at the center, whom were grinning ear to ear.

She gasped and leapt at him to try and get the image back. "Put it down!" she cried, and he turned away, laughing. She reached as far as she could, tippy-toeing even, but could not even reach passed his elbow when he held it high over his head. "Give it back, Alexander!"

He laughed and held it back to her. She snatched it angrily and put it back on the dresser, perfectly as it had been. "So you do love your family after all."

She blushed and then glared at him again. "You never answered me! Why are you here, Alexander?"

Oh how he adored it when she said his full given name, especially so when she used it out of anger. "I'm here because your mother and father came by the aerodome to speak with my father."

"Why?"

"They asked if I could watch you while they are out. My father obliged me, of course, though I would have agreed regardless."

She blinked dumbly at him. "...you...you are here to govern me?" he nodded. "I'm not a baby! I can watch myself!"

"Your father wants you safe...it took some convincing on my part that I could do that, and he seems rather reluctant to trust me after he nearly killed me." that made her frown. "Besides, I didn't think you wanted one of your stuffy generals to take the job. Was I wrong?"

"...no." she admitted after a moment. "You are the b-best choice." and then she took her dress and walked over to her closet. He followed her with his eyes, feeling nervous somehow.

"Emma?" she hmm'd. "I...I was thinking about what we talked about, on the hill?"

She hung the dress up inside the closet and faced him with a frown. "What was it about?"

I had asked you to the ball first, he thought, almost angrily, and yet mostly upset with his cowardice to ask her here and now. No, don't be an idiot...she is happy. I just want her to be happy. "You know, I completely forgot myself. I was wondering if you might have remembered?" she giggled and shook her head. Go with me. "That reminds me...I did ask your parents for permission to escort you outside the castle walls, provided we bring a security detail with us."

"Truly?" she sounded so excited.

"Aye, truly. It was your mother that convinced your father in the end, said something about how you have been good and all." she smiled at that, obviously very happy that her mother stood up for her. "So, would you perhaps want to leave? There is a Sanus festival to be held in the south. Do say yes princess, because remember, you owe me a date."

She blushed. "Oh...and you w-would want to go with me?" he smiled. "W-why?"

"Of course I'd want to go with you," he held out his hand. "And the why is simple...I just want your lovely company."

She hesitated, and then smiled and accepted his hand. "Okay...I'll go."

"Perfect!" he laughed. "There, the world did not end, now did it? Now, for our first destination and activity, apple hunting!"

"Apple hunting?" she repeated.

"You will love it," he guided her out of the room.

••••••••••••

The Sanus festival occurred once a month on the second to last or last Sanus, whichever date followed the last merchant caravan arrival from Kohlingen, which only came through the southern villages once a month. The festival was not adored as much as the Antlion Race, or the other festivals that ran for a few extra days afterward, but in the southern villages and cities it was very much cherished.

The merchants that came through often had news, stories or the like that provided the people hours of fun or new gossip—something to do. It reminded Emma of the Fishermen festival back in Thamasa, when people from all around the world came to Thamasa to deliver goods or buy goods to distribute nation wide or locally in their own towns. It was the best time of the year for her, because she got to hear news about Figaro or Narshe, or get to hear wonderful stories and poems, and even buy new books from Albrook or the Figaro capital.

This Sanus festival had one thing the Fishermen one didn't; sweets that she could eat.

Alexander had taken her through the festival's entrances, which was occupied by several stands dealing out free festivity items or gifts. Once they saw her, the people at the stands began to form around her to offer their wares for free, or ask her to taste something or ask about 'certain changes needed to be done'. It was nice, feeling like the spotlight was on her for once, but the numbers began to grow and it reminded her too much of the mob attack she experienced not too long ago.

When the group cleared away for a moment she tugged on Alex's sleeve and explained what happened and that she wanted to leave, but he smiled and dragged her out of view, behind some clustered houses.

"If that is the problem," he said, looking around, "then I can solve it. Give me a second. Stay right here." before she could argue he vanished through the other end of the houses, returning a few minutes later with a large cloak as thin as can be. "Here, this should help. If you keep it up, I mean, then they cannot see who you are." he held out the brown fabric, pleased when she said 'oh, how pretty!' and put it on. She lifted the hood over her tousled green hair and smiled.

"Well...?"

"Where did the princess go?" he looked around, putting more goof into the situation than she expected. She laughed and tied the string around the neck to keep the cloak closed.

"Alex, stop being silly."

He grinned. "Then I could not hear your laughter." before she could retort, he took her hand and tugged her out the way he had come through with her new cloak. "Come, let me show you the grand apple hunting. Then we can move onto the disk tables."

"Disk tables?"

"You'll see!" he laughed, leading her south, further into the festival.

Within a few minutes he had the princess standing before a large stand with hundreds of apples lined up on numbered slots. Each apple was marked with a number in a special paint of various colors, to track them. He got them to the stand's owner to get into the game when she reached for one of the apples, getting a very prompt and loud, "Don't touch them girl!" from the owner, furiously. "Have you any decency?"

Alexander gasped and tried to explain the situation, knowing that the girl was fuming and soon to explode, and calmed the owner down. "Look, sir, she's new. She doesn't know what this is. I'm showing her for the first time."

The man grumbled, embarrassed himself, and then mumbled his apology. "New, eh? Must have lived under a rock to not know...were you living under a rock?"

"No!" she snapped. "It is just a stupid app—" Alex quickly covered her mouth.

"She's from Thamasa, sir, not quite a rock but close enough I guess." he could hear her mumbling her disapproval. "Could we get two numbers, please?"

The man puffed and then shrugged. "Fine. One hundred gil per entry. Pick your numbers and be quick about it."

Alex went for the apple marked twenty-eight with the silver painting and released his hand to ask Emma which she wanted. "What's the point?"

"Never mind that for now, I'll explain later. Just pick a number, or a color you like."

The man was getting impatient and yet Emma continued on. "I don't want to pick incorrectly. Why should I pick when I do not know the rules to the game? Picking based just on color preferences and—"

"Emma, Emma, please, just pick one. Quickly."

She looked abashed, and furious, but pointed to the apple marked fifty-two and colored black. The man snorted in laughter.

"Fifty-two with black? Do you know how unlikely that apple will win girl? Ahaha, you must be from Thamasa."

"What does that mean?!" she snapped, ready to clobber the man.

"Emma," Alex whispered, squeezing her arm. "Just drop it. Take a seat over there and wait for me. I'll explain everything after, okay?"

"Fine," she growled, ripping her arm away and stomping over to the wooden benches where tired toddlers sat or slept. She squeezed in between an eight year old boy and a twelve year old boy busy licking sticky syrup off his hands.

The owner whistled. "That's one strange woman you have there."

"Aye, strange, but incredible." Alex laughed. "Alright, when does the game start?"

"Three hours, at the center of town. If you aren't there, we discard your apples. Tell me your names so I can write them down."

When Alexander returned to her side he quickly held out a slip of red paper. "Your number and color, and verification."

She pushed out between the boys and took the paper, looking at it as if it contained some secret code. "I don't understand..."

"Okay, this piece of paper serves as identification that you picked the number fifty-two marked black. If your apple is found before anyone else's apple, you return to the center of town with the apple and code. If you are the first, you win."

Her eyes widened in suspense and excitement. "What do I win?"

"Well, the winner gets something different each Sanus. They don't ever announce the gifts until the event is over, but it is usually really good. You still want to play?"

"Yes!" she chirped and then looked down at the paper. "But...why does it say my name is 'Ariana'?"

"I couldn't use your real name, could I? It isn't like it is a very popular name. If I did, someone would put two and two together and reveal you."

"Oh..." she sounded disappointed for a second, but then smiled. "...okay, when do we play?"

Well...that was quick, he thought. "In a few hours. For now, I'll take you to the disk stand."

As promised he took her directly to the disk stand. It was another long stand with a set up behind it. Atop shelves of various heights sat glass bottles of twirls, twists and other shapes. Below laid shattered glass from previous bottles being shattered from, as Alex described it, the disks being hurled at them.

"This one is not very fun, but you can win lots of things...and break stuff. Look, this is how you play," he took one of the three disks laid before him by the owner and then hurled one toward a bottle at the near top. It collided with the center and shattered on impact. The owner looked upset and grumbled as he stalked away to retrieve the disk and put up a new bottle. "See? You aim for the bottles. The higher the bottles, the bigger the payout."

She looked at the bottles with wonder struck. "Can I try? Can I try?"

He laughed and handed her one of the disks. "Here, hold it like this—" he put the disk in her hand and gently closed her fingers around the one of the sides of the disk and then used his other arm to twist her body in the right stance. He noticed how she stiffened but felt encouraged when she did not pull away. "—and then you carefully aim for the bottle...when you are ready, throw with your wrist, not with your arm. Do you understand?"

"I—I—I think so," she stammered, too concentrated on the fact that his hand was on her hip than on his words.

"Okay then...try throwing it."

She threw it and it arched too far to the left, smacking straight into the backboard of the shelves and scoring no points. The owner let out a guffaw and made some comment about only the small children miss so horribly, but Alexander told him to keep his mouth shut and or he'd lose customers and that was that. "You have one more throw. Make it count pr—" he paused, blushing. "—Ariana."

She took her time with this shot. Concentrating as closely as possible, biting her lower lip and trying not to shake. And then she threw it. She struck a third tier bottle, shattering it. Even though it wasn't a very high score, or much of one at all, she gave a chirp and jumped in place, absolutely giddy. "I hit it, I hit it! Did you see that Alex? I hit it!"

"Ahahah, aye, you certainly did."

"Too bad she didn't win anything," the man remarked smugly.

"What? We have a score of five!"

"No, you have a score of three and she has a score of two. You aren't the same people."

Alexander was flabbergasted, and insulted. "We shared the same ammunition. We were a team."

"My rulebook doesn't allow team scoring."

"That...that is insane!"

Emma, clearly embarrassed by the growing situation, grabbed Alex's hand and tried to tug him away. "Please Alexander, just forget it."

"No, I will not!"

"Well, you can't make me change my rules. Either pay and win something yourself, or get out of here."

Angrily Alex threw down another fifty gil for three more disk. All three disks, to the man's dismay, hit the highest mark, scoring five points each. Now the man was flustered and angry. "You cheated! There is no way you made each mark!"

"Give us the reward," Alex demanded. "Or else I'll take your business practices to the Festival manager."

The man grumbled and leaned down to receive their reward. He placed a giant, stuffed teddy bear on the counter with a pretty red nose and growled, "Now get out of my sight and don't let me see you again. Scram!"

Alex took the bear and then Emma's hand, grumbling about poor behavior, as he led Emma away. Once they were clear of the man and his stand, he held the teddy out to her and apologized for his behavior, obviously aware of the fact that he was feeding the flames earlier.

"I'm sorry Emma, I should have walked away when you said but...he didn't disrespect just me, but you, and I couldn't just stand there and let him continue. You had won a prize fairly and he..."

"It is fine," she smiled at him over the teddy, happily. "I do love this teddy though. Thank you Alexander."

"Please, call me Alex and—" he took her hand and kissed the knuckles, enough to make her blush. "—I would gladly win you another." She politely took her hand away and wrapped it around the torso of the teddy, wanting something to occupy her hands so that he could not take them again. He noticed but kept it to himself. "Let me take you to the music stands. I think you might enjoy their collection."

"Do...do they have flutes?"

"Flutes, ocarinas, small drums, horns, whistlers and the like."

She smiled at him. "Can we get an ocarina? And a small drum? And a trumpet?"

Alexander laughed. "We can get anything you want."

As the time drew into hours and the apple hunting race blew its horns to announce the game, Alex had the festival manager hold onto all of their purchases and winnings (so that he could send some soldiers down to retrieve them later) and took Emma across the town to the center, where all the participates were standing in a straight line.

"The game will begin in five minutes. Please be patient and remember, do not touch another participates apple or hide it if you find it. Believe us, we will know if you do." the game announcer stepped off his small little stage and retreated towards a smaller tent in the back, where he was preparing the entrees and watchers.

"How do we play?" Emma whispered from his side, looking around at all the faces gathered to play.

"Well, the most important rule is to only locate your apple and bring it back before anyone brings back their apple. Other rules include the banning of hiding others' apples or touching them, or otherwise damaging other applies. If you know where someone's apple is, you cannot tell them where. Which means I cannot help you should I find your apple and you cannot help me should you find my apple. Clear?"

She was positively beaming. "Clear!" she shouted, earning strange stares from the people around them. "This reminds me of Adagio's Run back in Thamasa. I never got to part...partic...participate but I learned the rules."

"Then you should be a pro at this game," he winked at her, thankful that she was thinking nothing of his hand on her shoulder. "Just remember...get your apple and run back to this place."

"We're...we're going to split up?"

"Aye," he mumbled, kneeling so he could look her in the eyes without her revealing her face or hair to anyone. "But do not worry. Figaro men have the forest secured. You will see many of them walking around even in the deep of the woods...though they never hide the apples that far out. Every participate gets a whistle to blow if something has happened, or if they get lost too. You will be safe, I promise." when she nodded and tried to calm herself down, he got back to his feet and gave her a firm pat on the back. "Ready?" he asked as the announcer appeared back on the stage with a weird looking bottle.

"Ready," she whispered back even as the announcer lit a fire to the string of the bottle. It exploded into the air with colors of red and purple, and the people took off towards the forest. Alex held Emma back when she charged forward, only to confuse her. "What did I do?"

"Nothing, just wait..." Alex quieted her down for a second and then laughed when they could hear cries from the forest. "...ahah! I knew it!"

"W-W-W-What happened to them?"

"They got themselves tangled into traps in the forest."

"Traps?! Why are there traps?"

"Sometimes the announcers will switch up the rules for fun. I had a feeling this festival would do just that...okay, when you go out there, make sure you walk carefully and pay attention to your surroundings. Okay?"

"O-O-Okay...are the traps h-harmful?"

"No, they usually just keep you in place until an announcer can come and declare you unfit to play. Just remember to have fun Emma and keep this with you," he handed her one of the whistles he talked about earlier. "If you need me, you just use that. I'll come running, I promise." She pressed the whistle against her chest, nodded and then began to run forward into the forest. Alex gave a hoot and ran off in the opposite direction.

••••••••••••

An hour ran by and he never heard the bugle announcing the game over, announcing someone found their apple and made it back before him. He was tired, sweaty and disappointed. He wanted to win so that he could give whatever the prize was, to Emma. He was sure he would have found his apple by now, he almost always found his apple within an hour. They must have hidden them exceptionally well this week. It must have made it less appealing to children.

As he rummaged through an odd looking collection of leaves, thinking his apply where there, he found an apple marked thirty-two with green paint. "Damn," he snapped, putting the leaves back. That was the third apple he found that wasn't his. He turned back to the direction he had come from and crossed his arms. "Where could you be?"

Deeper into the forest, maybe?

No, they would not risk it, not with the monsters out there. It had to be in the main forest. When he decided to check the eastern side of the forest again, he heard the bugle cry out across the forest. A winner. He swore and kicked at the leaves. Damn it! Now what was he supposed to do? There weren't other games that offered nice prizes, so how could he win her over? He was furious. He wanted to see who the "winner" was—most likely an announcer—and stormed back to the center of town.

What he saw surprised him, and then filled him with pride. The winner was Emma.

She was at the center of where they had been earlier with her apple in her hand and jumping in place, squealing, "I won, I won, I won, I won!" even as the remaining players returned, envious. The announcers looked angry, and as Alex hurried over to congratulate her, he saw the man that he told her she wasn't going to win with that apple glaring.

"You won!" he laughed, running over and lifting her off the ground to spin her around. She giggled girlishly, dropping the apple to hold onto his neck. "Congratulations! How'd you find it? That was some hunting!"

"Aye," the game announcer growled. "How did you find it?"

Angrily, Alex put Emma back on her feet and stepped in front of her. "She won fair and square. Back off."

"She couldn't have possibly won," he snapped. "That apple was hidden in the back woods two feet under ground and littered with leaves. She had to have known where it was."

Alex glanced to Emma—noticing she looked uncharacteristically calm—and then leaned down to lift the apple to hand back to the announcer. There was no doubt it was the same apple and even as the man checked it over, he realized it too. "So you purposely went out of your way to secure the apple's location from her?"

"That's not it, all dark colored apples get hidden extra well!"

"I'm sure," Alex growled. "Either way, she couldn't have cheated even if she wanted. How would she have known where it was?"

"I—I—I don't know, but it is obvious—"

"That you are a tight ass?" Alex finished, getting the growing crowd to laugh, even Emma. He really did love that laughter. "Are you going to award the little lady or not?"

The man looked to the faces of the crowd, aware of just how disappointed and angry they looked on the girl's part, and crossed his arms. "Fine. She wins."

Emma gave a chirp and jumped toward Alexander with a tight hug. "I won something! I won something!" The man held out two tickets and, confused, Emma accepted them. "What is this?"

The man chuckled as the crowd dispersed. "Your prize. Enjoy your free desserts." and then he walked away, positively glowing with victory. Alex, furious and yet feeling responsible for her lousy prize, laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It is okay...I'll buy you anything you wa—"

"I won something," she whispered, staring down at the tickets and then she looked up at him, smiling, honestly. "Can you believe it? I played in a festival and I won something!"

He smiled. "That you did. Where are you going to spend those tickets?"

And then, to his complete shock, she held one out to him. "I want to them share with you." and he couldn't help but wish for more meaning behind it. He accepted one of them with a handsome smile. "Want to get some icecream, or a cake? Or—or maybe cinnamon buns?"

"I don't mind which," and then he took her hand. "I'll go for anything you want."

---

The princess' castle guard had not been properly alerted to the travel plans of their ward. And when they did find out, it was from general Suon, who had given the protection of the princess over to the Golden Sun. They were not angry over their job being reassigned, they were angry that their job had been disregarded by the young man with which the princess had absconded with.

Well, more annoyed than mad.

When word finally reached them, rather late of course, that the princess and her guardian had returned to the castle, they spent the better part of an hour looking for her. Jakle had been tasked with that, when the others could not do the task. He took the matter seriously.

"And do we know where they went to begin with?" Jakle asked three men, who had apprised him of the situation. Only one of them seemed to know.

"The good general told us he took her south, to participate in some festival."

"And have we asked where she is from her detached guard?" they just stared at him, rather dumbly. "Of course you didn't bother to ask them. You are dismissed. I will bring my own men." he waved them off and turned to the men behind him. "I do not want Wren to hear of this embarrassing turn of events. Ritley and Jauten, you will go speak with the guard that attended the princess and the Gabbiani son and if you find her, bring her to her room. The rest of you, with me. We will search the entire castle, if we must."

It took them their first try to locate the princess and her guardian. They were tucked away quietly in a secluded corner of the princess' favorite garden, just below the shade of the willows. They approached quickly, with Jakle at the head of the party, intent on dragging the girl to her room for the rest of the day (which of course wasn't long at all). However, when he saw her sitting beside the young man, laughing and smiling, he stopped the company.

"Sir?" one of his men glanced at him.

"Wait," he said, watching. "Let us give her a moment..."

"We are supposed to bring her to her—"

"I'm well aware," he snapped at them, before gesturing to her. "When was the last time you saw her talking to someone, though? Someone other than family? And actually enjoying it?" the men were quiet. "So...we give her a few minutes more."

"Aye, sir." the said.

And so they waited several minutes more and Jakle was about ready to call them off to wait at the garden's exit, when suddenly the young man leaned toward the princess, his intent clear. The image of his king raging about and verbally lashing him and his men for allowing this to happen came and went, quickly replaced by his own anger over the directness and wanton behavior of the young man. He stormed forward.

••••••••••••

They arrived at the castle after an hour once they left the village.

Alexander had, against the warning of the queen, given the princess all sorts of sugary content. He knew the queen had her reasoning, but after that first ice cream, he couldn't say no to her. Not when she looked at him with those eyes. He bought her donuts with powdered sugar and candy sprinkles, sugar candies, fruit filled pastries and slices of cake, and even sugary drinks. She was going to be wired, but she looked so happy he wanted it to continue.

Eventually they decided to retire for the day, and Alexander had masterfully guided them to the beautiful and secluded section of her favorite garden. His intention was to present his request for the ball, but as he watched her eat the last of her favorite pastry flavor, the courage in him vaporized instantly. He sighed. He did not want to take away her happiness by besieging her with his unknowns, not when someone had finally given her the attention he always knew she should get. Once this Lucas grew to know her more, he would see just how amazing Emma was. And there would be nothing left behind for Alexander to nurse.

She licked the powdered sugar off her fingers and glanced at him, frowning. "W-why aren't you eating?"

He glanced at the untouched pastry in his hand and laughed, setting it back in the basket. "I'm sorry princess, I am distracted." just then, she took another pastry out of the basket.

"...distracted?" she mumbled, brows furrowing.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry..."

"...by what?" she asked with such innocence he couldn't help but smile. Whoever this Lucas was, he already didn't deserve her. Alex didn't think anyone could.

"By you of course."

Her cheeks reddened. "Me?"

"I have a question to ask you."

"What q-question?" she asked, setting her pastry down before she could even take a bite.

He wanted to tell her the truth so bad that it hurt him, but he sighed, and said, "I wanted to know if you would like to attend an opera show with me? Of course, this would be whenever your parents could grant it and you are free to do so..."

A slow smile crept on her face. "I would love to go," he looked at her, surprised. "I have n-never been to one, though."

She would love to go with me? He thought, feeling a little better. "Well then dear princess, you will be in for a grand treat." he gave her a wink and she giggled. "Oh, that reminds me...however did you find your apple, Emma? I know you didn't cheat, but I'm at a loss and it's killing me."

"The rules didn't sp-specify if I could..." she stammered and then hesitated. "...smell them."

Even more curious, he asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Her cheeks darkened even further when she answered. "I...I could sm-smell the paint."

That caught him by surprise, until he remembered the eldest prince's descriptions of his sister. Camb and Ben had been chewed up and spat out by Cadence when she heard it, but they had said she had the smelling sense that beat a dog and the hearing of a bat. Alexander had always assumed it was just the rude, petty humor of angry or jealous siblings, the things most siblings did to each other (though not him of course), but he was beginning to realize they might have just been using the best descriptive terms available to them. In fact, even Cadence had confided in him that the girl's senses were much keener than any human being.

So they were serious. She's got very sensitive senses. I must not let her think there's an issue with that... "Well, even if you could smell the paint—and I don't doubt it, lovely princess—how did you know which was yours?"

Her nose was red from the burn of her blush as she looked down at her hands. "They...they used some sort of plant in their dyes," she mumbled. "I...I picked b-black because it smelled the most..."

He could not keep himself from laughing, startling her. "You purposely picked one because it smelled more?" his laugher was booming in the garden. "Oh...you just too good, Emma!"

"You...you aren't mad that I cheated?"

"Cheated?" he repeated. "How could it be a cheat when there were no rules against it, as you had pointed out early? A cheat must mean you broke a known rule to succeed, but you played the game against itself. If anything, it's gaming the system, but no...I think it was rather ingenious!"

Emma giggled. "I...I didn't think about it like that." and then the quiet arrived. He could tell by her eyes that there was something she wanted to ask, but was too afraid to. He did not press her. He knew that she needed time to work up to that herself, that pushing her would just be detrimental. It was, above all else, important for him that she feel comfortable. He leaned back into the grass and looked up into the canopy of the willow and tried to distract himself by counting as many branches as he could. He got to twelve before her voice picked up.

"Alex?" he looked at her. "Can...I mean...may I ask you something?"

"Of course you can."

"I..." and she froze, cheeks pinking. "Do...do you promise not to make fun of me?"

"I would never do such a dastardly thing," he said, earnestly. "I would rather fling myself into a volcano." he gestured. "Please, continue."

"Do..." she hesitated. "...do you believe in...in love?"

"Aye, I do." and many other things. "Why do you ask?"

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked.

What are you getting at? He frowned. "I am not sure, to be honest. There were times where I felt something strong, but no...I suppose I haven't, just yet. I would imagine that when you love someone, you just know it."

"Oh," she mumbled, very clearly disappointed in something.

"Why are you so curious about it?" She shrugged. "If it is something you would rather not say, that is fine too Emma, I just want you to know you could if you wanted to." The blush across her cheeks and nose darkened and she began to twist her fingers through each other. She was embarrassed, but by what? When she spoke, he didn't even hear what she said. "I'm sorry, but...what did you say?"

"I...I wanted to know h-how...how you..." she was definitely flustered, because her stammering was out of check. "How you...k-kiss..."

He smiled, a little. "I do know how, yes...why?" Perhaps this would be good for him in the end...

She looked away. "I...I wanted to be p-prepared."

All of his enthusiasm crumbled around him. It was not for him, it was clear, that she was asking this. "For Lucas?" he asked, feeling a little more irritated by this man who kept stealing her attention. She nodded. He pushed aside that jealous. He was not willing to break her courage, even if her attention would be showered on another. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Emma, or nervous. Everyone goes through this, the first time."

"Everyone?" she asked, doubtful.

He laughed. "Yes, everyone. I did, and I'm sure your brothers have, and Cadence. Why...even your parents."

Her eyes roamed something in the distance for a minute, thoughtfully. And then she frowned. "He's probably kissed girls before..." she mumbled.

That is certainly not the only thing he has done, he thought. "The odds of that are very high, yes." She sighed. "What's wrong?"

"I...I don't know how..."

"...how to kiss?" he asked, certain she was not going to continue. She nodded, very much embarrassed. "No one really knows how to, until they do." she frowned at him and he laughed. "What I mean is...you won't learn until you kiss someone. It's not something someone can teach you without kissing you."

She chewed her lip, thinking, and then asked, "Can you show me how?"

He sat up quickly. "You want me to show you how to kiss?" he was quite certain his heart was racing fast enough for her to hear.

"Is...is that not okay to ask?" she looked very confused.

"I...well no, it's fine but...are you sure?" he asked. "I mean...it will be your first kiss. It should be special."

She blinked at him. "You don't know any other way to show me?"

Oh. So that was it. She didn't want to be taught through actual... all of that excitement dwindled fast. "I don't know, I guess you could practice other ways. I'm not entirely sure of them. Maybe on your hand?"

Emma giggled. "On your hand?"

He shrugged. "I've never tried practice methods, but I guess, yes."

"You are teasing me."

He laughed. "No, this time I am not."

"...how?" she asked, and something seemed different. The way she said it... he realized what she was doing and laughed.

"Why, dear princess, if I didn't know any better, you are trying to tease me!" and then she burst into giggles. "I knew it! You devious little woman!"

"I a-a-almost had you!" she managed to say between fits of giggles and breaths.

He laughed. "I shall get you yet for that!" and then he snapped his fingers. "Ah, I know! I desire another date to set your crimes right."

Her cheeks reddened again. "You are so weird, Alex!"

I love it when you blush, he thought, watching the light catch her beautiful, mismatching eyes. "I'm cute too though, right?"

"No, d-definitely not!" she giggled. And suddenly, he realized how close he was to her. Just one hand's length away...

"No?" he repeated in a whisper, inching a little closer. She didn't seem to notice, or maybe care. "That is twice you have hurt me..." and then he leaned in, wanting so desperately to kiss her. To his surprise, she did not move away. Her eyes widened for just a second before she closed them, waiting. She was not rejecting him. For now, he didn't mind that she might be using him for practice. All that mattered was that he was going to get a kiss, to be her first. His lips were only a mere inch away from hers when suddenly guards appeared.

They would not have noticed them if one of them never cleared their throat, and very loudly. Emma was so surprised, perhaps more embarrassed, that she shoved Alexander away and scurried to her feet. "Captain!" she squeaked, as if she had been caught doing something absolutely dastardly.

"Princess, it is nearing your curfew. You must return to your quarters, and immediately."

She blushed and lowered her gaze. "Yes...of course." she turned to Alex then, and a small and appreciative smile danced across her face. "Thank you Alex...it was lovely." and then she hurried off with the soldiers, leaving him all alone.

Alexander puffed, annoyed, and then dropped to his back into the cool grass. "So close..."

••••••••••••

The walk to her quarters was a quiet one. The soldiers were several feet behind her, talking quietly between each other. Emma knew it was meant to be a private talk and tried her hardest to ignore them, but she could hear every word. They were discussing the king and queen, and what the country might be like without the two as the reigning royalty. Emma sighed, annoyed with the discussion and with herself for letting it get to her.

"Princess?"

Emma looked to her right at the captain, as he strolled up. "I know...don't leave my room."

He laughed and shook his head. "Well, yes, but that is not all that I wished to discuss with you." she paused and frowned at him. He laughed again. "You aren't in trouble...I just wanted to know if you are being careful around that lad."

Her brows raised. "...careful?" she mumbled. "What do you mean? Careful about what?"

Jakle, realizing something she knew he wouldn't share with her, chuckled nervously and itched at his neck. "Ah...forget I said anything."

"...okay." she really was starting to hate this vagueness people were throwing at her recently. It was as if they wanted to confuse her, to irritate her.

"With all that said..." he coughed to clear his throat. "Stay inside your room until the morning, and only if Alexander or one of my men have come to retrieve you. Is that clear?" She nodded and he turned to open the door to her room. "Good, then have a pleasant night, dear princess." and then he bowed and was on his way with his men.

Emma watched them go before hurrying into her room and kicking her shoes off by the door. She got through arranging her sleeping attire and starting a fresh bath before someone came knocking on her door again. Annoyed by the interruption, and thinking it was Jakle again, she drew the door open with an obvious anger and snapped out a, "What now?!"

The faces that stared back at her were foreign though, and certainly not men of the military. Emma recognized the insignia on their breasts. They were assistants to the council. They did not look pleased at being yelled at. "I...I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

One of the assistants shook his head. "Princess, the council has called for you." he ignored her apology entirely. "You are to be at the chambers within ten minutes."

Emma frowned. "It is late," she said. "I'm not supposed to be out at night and—"

"You have been summoned by the council," he said again, interrupting her with a curt tone. "You will head to the council as you have been called. It is not up to discussion."

She knew enough not to mess with the council. The pain they had caused her since as far back as she could remember told her it could only get worse. She nodded. "Okay...can I tell my guardian, first? He's supposed to know everything-"

"There is no time and it would be redundant. You will be where it is safe. Come." and without waiting for her, he turned and started to walk away with the others. Emma gasped and hurried after them, forgetting her shoes.

The council's chambers were just a ten minute walk from her wing. They had to go down to the first floor and take the halls running south, until they reached a court yard. From there, they crossed and continued south, until the large building appeared. It stood separate from the castle, and was built with red and brown bricks. It stood two stories high, but had no upper level. It allowed the roof to twist upward in an intricate design of glass.

"In through here," the assistant said, gesturing to the center of the chambers. The ledges rose at varying levels, starting from the ground floor and reaching up to the rim of the roof. Each ledge had a chair, with the highest containing the largest chair. That was where the Majority Leader of the council sat, and for the last forty years, it had been Richard Lord. The second and third positions fell to Kirem and Geric. The fourth and fifth position was held by Saem and Lifkin. The sixth and seventh were held by Mural and Olmpa. The last two seats had been vacant for years, one of the councilmen dying and the other being imprisoned for stealing coin from the crown to fund personal business ventures.

Each member of the council sat in their respective places. Emma had remembered it well, even though she had only been in the chambers once—two fortnights after permanently moving to the castle from Thamasa. She had to stand before them with her parents and under go inspection. To this day, Emma was not sure what the inspection was for.

The assistances stopped her at the center of the room, before the council, and then hurried off. When the giant double doored clapped shut behind her, a voice rose in the room.

"Princess Emma," Lord stood from his chair. "You are not only late to your summons, we have heard you spent the day outside the castle. Do explain yourself."

Emma gaped. "I was with someone the entire time and I was told—"

Geric interrupted her then, "You will address the members of this council with respect, young lady!" he was a man in his fifth decade, but he had the lungs of a lad. He demanded she repeat herself but with the right honors afforded to them, but she looked away, defiantly.

Mural slammed his hands onto his desk with enough force he knocked his water glass down. "Such insolence! Such disrespect! You are a horrible little thing, aren't you?!"

"Calm yourself down, Mural," a man ordered, garbed in black and red. It was Kirem. He was among the older members of the council and came from afar, when he was just a boy. Emma had heard he was a run away from the Veldt. "Dear princess, please address the court with their titles, otherwise we will be here all night listening to this lot complain." he took a breath and snapped out, "As for the council! Be sure that you direct the princess as fits, or you will be escorted out of the court room. She is your princess and you will treat her with the respect she deserves, or I will see to it that the king and queen hears of it." he glanced back at Emma under the silence of his comrades. "Now, princess, please answer Lord's questions. Where have you been, and why were you so late to your summons?"

Emma was not sure how to explain it. She fidgeted under their stare. "I...I was with a guardian, councilman, I swear." she answered them quietly, eyes still down.

"Very well," Lord said with a soft nod, acknowledging her answer. "What is his name and rank?" Emma honestly tried not to giggle but it was too much. She regretted it instantly though, and felt very ashamed. "And pray tell child...what is so funny?" Lord asked, brows furrowed.

She pinked, realizing how it came off. "I...I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean anything by it, it is...it is just..."

"Well, spit it out already child, we do not have all night," Geric grumbled.

"Sorry, councilman," she mumbled. "His name is Alexander Gabbiani."

There was a long pause, one of surprise, and then Lord leaned forward and cupped his hands together in deep thought. "The son of Setzer Gabbiani, hm? Well..." he sat back. "This is an interesting development. What were you doing with this lad, again?"

Emma said, "Mother and father put him in ch-charge of me while they are g-gone, sir."

"This is very fortunate," Lord said, a small smile gracing his aged face. "The Gabbiani family is an old name, dating back some time into the Empire. They are also exceptionally wealthy." unsure of what he was getting at, Emma frowned at him. "Do not frown at me so, princess. I do not disapprove. I think it is wise you are thinking ahead. A place in the Gabbiani family would be incredibly beneficial to the kingdom and to your brother when he takes the crown. It would even broker a permanent connection to their fortune through the children."

Children? Her mind focused on that one word. "W-w-what children?"

Geric started to laugh. "Tell me you are not this clueless, girl!"

"Enough Geric," Lord said firmly. "Princess, I am discussing your future. You will need a husband soon enough, all girls of age are married relatively soon, and that is after a year or so of consideration of suitors. And you have none. I should think this Alexander was a decision of yours towards that future? He is well enough in character and position, after all, being the eldest of the father's sons. He is also of a fine age, very respectable and young enough to create a formidable future for himself. The youth he posses would also mean he would give you plenty of children."

She gaped at them, utterly lost. "S-suitor?" she was absolutely astonished by what they were saying.

"There are other options, of course, such as Qudin hed Sh'elda of the Veldt. He is rather young for a to-be Veldtic king, but that should say something of his prowess and riches. He would also make a fine match for the kingdom's good, and you...of course. A marriage with a king...now that would be the best course you could take. A future that no one could disregard. Imagine, over time, Figaro and the Veldt assimilating! Fabulous!"

Marriage! Emma was horrified. They had brought her here to discuss who she was best to marry, for the sake of the kingdom? She gaped at them. She knew nothing of the marriage laws of Figaro, especially the laws surrounding royalty, but this couldn't be, could it? Her father and mother would not...the council couldn't...

She tried very hard to imagine marrying a stranger and what life would be like, but all she could think of was feeling alone, of returning to a version of Thamasa that was cold and unfamiliar to her. Where there was no Relm or Gau to lessen the loneliness.

"She's gone white all over," Kirem said, concerned. He rose halfway out of his seat. "Heavens girl, breathe, 'fore you quit on our floor." the sound of his voice drew her out of her anxiety at last. "Have you lost your wit, girl? It is merely a discussion. There is no need to faint over it."

"A worthy discussion to be had," Lifkin said with a nod. "Lord is right in getting her to decide now, while she is young. Not many men wish to marry a hag, even should she be a maiden."

Emma was very much uncomfortable with the discussion, or the way they were talking about her, so she ducked her head and mumbled, "I'll t-t-take my leave now..."

"No, you may not. We are not finished here."

Emma felt her skin crawl. Slowly she lifted her eyes to seek out the owner of the voice. Brud ven Bisharch the Third. He was youngest serving on the council, and had become the youngest ever elected official of any land under the Crown. His father had been a merchant, a very successful merchant, from Nikeah when he was invited to the council sometime before the kingdom officially declared against the Empire. Brud had acquired his seat in his early twenties, by winning debates and votes from the council and the lords of the land.

And for some reason, he had hated her every moment of her life.

She tried to back away with a mumble about needing to obey her parents, but he issued her to stay. "I will dismiss you when I dismiss you, girl." he stood off his seat, arms crossed behind his back. "I may not have graced the council seat as long as some of my colleagues have, but I have seen people come and go in my time. Some respectable men and women, but also some that are no more of worth than the filth you can scrap off a boot after a short walk in the slums. You, princess," he stressed the title and his eyes darkened on her. "You are one of the worst cretins I have ever met. Since the moment you could walk and open that mouth of yours, you have done nothing but disrespect those around you—even your own parents and brothers."

"I-I w—"

"And there you go again," he said sharply, cutting her off. "You disrespect me by running that mouth of yours over me while I am speaking. It will not work when you are in this chamber, girl."

"Careful, Brud," Lord said, staring. "Do not overstep with her. You will remember your place, and hers."

Burd lifted a hand, conceding, keeping his eyes on Emma. "Perhaps the princess should reflect on her actions then. It is not ladylike to impose herself over a man, let alone a man of the government." he let the silence sit for a moment before continuing. "I just hope she will learn her place, as we all must learn one way or another." he reseated himself, though he never took his eyes off her.

Lord gave a long sigh. "I fear we lost ourselves in this side discussion. I apologize for that, princess. We have called you here this late because we were, firstly, worried about you. The core of the matter though was to talk with you outside the influence of your parents. They are a worrisome lot when it comes to you, I'm sure you have noticed. You are never quite allowed to voice yourself."

Emma wasn't sure where he was going with it, but she said, "They...they know better than I do." she hoped that was the right thing to say, and sighed a little when Lord nodded in agreement.

"This is true. A parent knows better than a child. A king knows better than a princess. Even so though, even a daughter and princess should have some say in the discussion. Even should it be superficial."

"And...and w-w-what is the discussion?" she dared to ask, getting another snicker from Geric.

Lord explained. "On whom you will wed, of course, and when. Once you are a woman grown, of course, but when specifically? Have you any men you are considering? It would help your parents if you present yourself properly to them."

She was sure she was blushing fiercely. Marriage again? How could they even bring this up? She was sure they knew perfectly well she had never talked about it, let alone thought it, and that no boy was willing to pay any of his attention to her. Well, not until Lucas, and that...that was different. Not even requesting her hand at a ball meant anything beyond just that.

Lord must have sensed what she was thinking, because he chuckled softly. "You have some time until you are of marriageable age, princess. You should sit down and think about it before it is thought about for you." he cleared his throat. "That is all for the day, dear princess. You may take your leave now."

For a moment, too dazed by the topic, she stumbled and fell when she turned around. Geric started to laugh, his laugh echoing. Kirem snorted at him and descended the stairs to help her up. The others were passing her by slowly.

"Ignore Geric, young lady, he is not that far from forced retirement. We should all be thankful for the day he leaves." when she was on her feet, she offered him a curtsy and a thank you. "No need for that. Unlike many here, I do not think my position within the council is higher than the family we are meant to serve. Years of prolong exposure to their powers have corrupted most of them." he had whispered that part. "Now," he made sure she was standing straight. "I do agree with Lord. I know it is quite depressing to consider marriage so young, and to a stranger of all things, but this is the world we are given. You must consider your future in the long run, if only for your benefit, because in this world women are given a lesser hand and you need all of the advantage you can get. It is worth some thought, when you have the time." he brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her knuckles. "Have a pleasant night, princess, and good health." he bowed his head and departed as quickly as he had come to her help.

She was stunned. Kirem had always been one of few in the council who did not hate her vehemently, but he had never said so much to her before, or acted so openly pleasant to her. She watched him go, confused and wondering if it was some ploy by the council, until she felt a hard hand grip the spot between her neck and shoulder, to force her to bend a little at the knees in pain.

"Now now, don't get any ideas," Brud whispered into her ear. "You are nothing and you will always be nothing. The good you provide your kingdom is the money and alliances your body can give. Do not think you mean more than that." with a cry, she shrugged herself out of his hold and took a few steps away from him to glare. His lips turned to a smile. "That's the anger the world will fear." that stumped her so clearly her face relaxed instantly.

What?

Brud's smirk grew. "Do not think this is over." he leaned forward and whispered. "If you do not wish for your parents to know of your actions at the academy, and I should think you know perfectly well what I am referencing, then you will return here at midnight. Alone." and then he straightened and adjusted his shirt, quite smug with himself when he caught the horror and fear in her eyes. "Have a pleasant night...princess." and then he walked away with the last few council members.

She could only stare after them, horrified and trembling. When the doors closed behind them, she collapsed to her knees with a cry. How had Brud figured out she was responsible for the incident at the academy? She was sure she was not seen! What would happen when he told her parents what she did? What would they do to her? Where would they send her?

She started to cry. Why did things have to go so horribly wrong all of the time?

The doors opened again and she tried to hide, so that the council could not see her crying, but instead the alarmed faces of her escorts greeted her.

"There you are princess! We have been looking all over for you and..." when they saw her tears, they gasped. "Heavens! Why are you crying?" the soldiers approached and one of them took her by the shoulders to make her face him. She rubbed stubbornly at her eyes to erase the evidence. "Did the council say anything to you?"

Knowing if she admitted to it she would pay for the rest of her life more than she was already, she shook her head. "I..." before she could help it, the lie slipped off her tongue. "I...I just miss mother and father."

The soldier smiled and took her arm to escort her out of the chambers. "I see. It is perfectly natural to miss your parents. There is no need to hide your tears. Come, let us get you back to your room and then we'll see if I can dig up something sweet for you to turn that frown upside."

••••••••••••

Alexander paced through the halls, distracted utterly. He had gotten so close to her lips... he sighed and closed his eyes. He could still see that smile, smell the honey on her skin and the scent of her hair, and the smell of sweets on her breath. As if she stood right there, in front of him, just inches out of reach. I wonder...is she asleep yet? He thought, quickening his pace. No...she's probably still getting ready. He stopped then, annoyed. Why was he letting this get a hold of him so much?

He exhaled sharply and shook his head. One check on her wouldn't cause any harm...just to make sure she was getting along with her night well, of course.

••••••••••••

By the time that the guards had brought her back to her room, and cheered her up (or tried to) with sweets, it was well passed nine pm, which was well beyond her 'bed time', as her brothers would tease. She said her goodbyes and sweet dreams to the gentlemen and then nervously paced her room until midnight struck.

However, every time she peaked out of her room, she could see a round of guards marching by. It took her some time to figure out a pattern she could exploit, and a little more time to work up the courage to try and sneak out, but she had done it. She was currently tippy-toeing down the hall toward the stairs when she heard the pat of the soldiers' boots and dove for a table and hid underneath until they passed her by.

When she was sure they were gone, she crawled out from underneath the table and peered down the dark halls. When she was sure that they were gone, she pressed on, quickly. By the time that she reached the garden outside of the chambers, it was an hour passed twelve, and she was certain it would get her in trouble. She waited in a bush until a dozen soldiers marched by and then she dove straight for the double doors. The sound of the soldiers' boots thankfully covered all the noise she made.

Exiting the bushes had caused a few of the thorns to catch on her skin and scratch her. She winced and bit back some tears. Well, a little pain was certainly worth it, if it meant Brud would keep her secret.

Inside she was startled by the near lack of light and saw a dim glow through the back door leading into the private chambers, where they held meetings with her father or generals. She stepped in hesitantly, very much frightened and nervous.

"B-B-Brud?" she called out into the dark. "Hello?" she whispered into the darkness, unwilling to step further in, unreasonable fear pulling at her from all around. With no answer and unwilling to face the consequences of his blackmail, she walked toward the back door. The light got brighter but remained gentle and when her hand touched the cold surface of the wooden door, she could hear movement. With a gentle push, the door opened and she peaked in.

"Brud?" she called again, this time even quieter.

Inside the smaller room, four candles were lit atop the fire place's mantle, and in front of the empty fireplace laid a blanket. There were a few things set aside, a bottle of something dark, and two empty glasses. Before she could think too much of it, a shape appeared out of the shadows across from her. Frightened, she fell back, dropping against the door with a stifled cry.

"Easy now, my dear," the figure drew closer and the shadows left his face. It was Olmpa! She hurried to her feet, ignoring the dull pain in her shoulders. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever show up."

"Olmpa?" she looked around, brows furrowed. "but...but where is Brud?"

"You are late," he merely answered her.

"I—I had to w-wait for the soldiers to l-leave first. I never—never meant to be late, I—I promise."

He clicked his tongue softly, looked toward the candles and crossed his arms behind his back as he made his way toward the blanket, to stare into the fire that wasn't there. "Brud and I had a very long discussion after we left the council chambers." he sighed. "And it was an interesting one, to say the least. Why don't you come in and close the door?" hesitantly, she entered and closed the door behind her.

"Is Brud not here?"

Olmpa laughed so much his body shook like flan. "Buwahaha! You are a very naïve one, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dear girl...Brud is not coming. You were late and so he left. I, however, decided it was well worth my time to stay." he tried to cross his arms over his chest, but they would not fit. "This is about your little act of rebellion at the academy, dear, and I'm sure you know somewhat the trouble you would be in if your parents were to find out about it."

Her ears started to ring. How did Olmpa find out?

He was told, her voice whispered.

At her rather dumb expression, he laughed. "I can see it in your eyes, the question of how...well dear...when you are in the game of politics for as long as I have been, you tend to pick up the secrets of those around you. Though truth be told it was because Brud was acting like a fool! He should truly be more careful whispering secrets about others."

"...are...are you g-going to t-tell them?" she asked, trying very hard not to cry. Her voice was hissing angrily in her head.

"Where would that put me, hm?" he asked. "No, that wouldn't serve me whatsoever. The idiots you call parents can carry on without any knowledge of your activities for all I care. I only want something in return, and I have decided what that is to go about keeping your secret, well, a secret."

"...'what you want'?"

"Oh, come now my little sweet, we both know you are smarter than that—smarter than that brother of yours, at least. Let's not play games." he lifted a pudgy hand and gestured to the blankets by his feet. "One time. That is all I require of you and you may keep your precious secrets."

She stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. One time what? She glanced at the blankets by the fireplace quickly, lost. What does he want? And whatever it was, would it be worth keeping just so she could stay? So she could go to the ball with Lucas? There would always be another boy, wouldn't there? And then she thought beyond that to her family. There could never be a second family and she knew she would do anything to keep them, to stay with them for just a moment longer.

"Well," he said, corking an eye at her. "Will you pay for your secrets or will you suffer for having them?

"I—"

"Perhaps it would be best to remind you what you have to lose," he said sharply. "Even should your parents manage to wiggle you out of justice from the hand of the law, how do you think they will feel towards you after? Do you think your parents will tolerant a little thief who plants Imperial material on innocent students, who would destroy property of a highly respectable academy, just so she could get back at her brothers?"

"but I never—"

"It doesn't matter what your intentions were," he said with a deep frown. "Oh dear, don't you comprehend the situation at all? You will be sent away, far from your precious parents and stupid brothers but oh, not to your guardians. No. They will ship you off to the Narshen Authority Academy, so that you can learn to behave. Though, come to think of it...that would be a wiser choice regardless."

Emma gasped. "No, please Olmpa! Please don't t-tell them!"

"Oh my sweet princess..." he held his pudgy, sweaty hand out toward her, as if he offered her the only salvation available to her. "I will make all this forever gone then. I will erase Brud and the rest of the council so that they cannot pass about your secrets, as they do not match my power, my influence. I can make people, other people, responsible for your actions. I will not do this favor for you without a proper trade though, so you must decide what is important to you here and now."

Walk away! her voice demanded. Do not think to make any deals with this disgusting pig!

But if I don't, he will tell them! She clamped her eyes shut, frustrated. What should she do? She didn't want to leave, not when she had only just arrived. She wanted to get to know her brothers more and her parents, and to try to fit into the country as its princess. She didn't want to lose everything she loved because of a stupid decision she made. She felt tears bubble up in her eyes because she knew she was going to do whatever Olpma asked, but yet, she could not will herself to open her eyes to look at him.

The councilman grew impatient and cleared his throat roughly. "I do not have all night to hear your answer! It is a simple one girl and all you have to do is say yes or no!"

A gentle sob left her. "I—I don't..." She didn't even know what it was he wanted of her.

He walked toward her. "Oh princess, I can show you how if that is what bothers your sweet little heart." he reached out to touch the softness of her cheek and clucked his tongue when she grimaced and took a step away. "what do you have to fear from me?"

"W-what do you want f-from me?"

••••••••••••

The princess' wing was occupied when he arrived by her protection detail, returning from the end of the hall march. He stopped them there, and ignored their questions why he was up so late.

"I need to check on the princess."

"The princess will be fast asleep, sir," one of them said. "It will not due per the queen's orders to interrupt her sleep. You may come back on the morrow, should it please you."

"It doesn't," he snapped. "I have been put in charge of her and I said I need to check on her. Now open the damn doors or I will run you through them."

"Yes sir, of course." he hurried to the door and unlocked it, and then stepped aside. "As you commanded, sir."

Alexander pushed by and entered the room quietly, hoping not disturb her. The lights were out and pale light crept through a narrow slit in the currents, illuminating a single line through the center of the room, half across the end of the bed. He approached the bed and paused in the moonlight when he saw that the bed was made, that no princess rested there. A moment of confusion kept him still but then the panic set in and he turned in spot, looking around the room, eyes wide. "Emma?!" nothing. He charged into the basin room. "Emma!" but she was not there either. By then the soldiers burst into the room, and saw that it was empty.

"What have you done with the princess, you scoundrel!" one of them bellowed, and another shut him up by pointing out the obvious. "But if he did not...then where did...how did..."

Alexander turned on them, angering rushing through him. "How could you let this happen?!" he howled. "You were to guard her hall, you were to protect her!"

"We have been guarding it all night! And we are the only ones with a set of keys aside from..." the soldier stopped, his skin paling.

"Aside from whom?!" he snapped.

Another soldier answered for him, "...aside from the princess."

Alexander swore. "How was it a bright idea to hand a pair of keys to the girl meant to stay in her room?!" before any of them could answer him, he silenced them with a quick hand gesture. "Forget it, we will deal with that incompetency later! Where did she go?"

"Sir, we don't know!"

"Fuck!" Alexander snapped, kicking a chair over, fuming. By then, a soldier brought them light, so that they could inspect the room. To their surprise, almost all of her shoes remained in the closet, with one pair haphazardly discarded by the door. Alexander had recognized them as the ones she were wearing earlier and worry grew in his heart.

Did...did she not even get pass the door when whatever happened, happened? He tried to maintain his fear. Please Emma, don't let it be that you have run off again, please. "Alert the castle. We must find her before it is too late."

One of the soldiers looked at him with panic, and stepped forward. "Sir...I...I think I know where she is." all faces turned to him. "My...my brother works as an assistant, you see and...and he said..."

"He said what?!" Alex grabbed the lad by the collars of his uniform. "Where is the princess?!"

"She was summoned to the council earlier this night!" he cried. "Maybe she's still there!"

Alexander tossed him free, glaring. "And you said nothing?" the soldier looked away, ashamed. "You should pray that this does not reach the king and queen!" and then ordered the other soldiers to bring Wren and his squad to the chambers and hurried off himself.

The council had another thing coming if they thought they could just whisk the princess off without discussing it first with her uncle or guardians, but he knew as he raced down the halls they had waited until the king and queen were gone to do it. It was just another show of disrespect, of their desire for more and more power separate from the crown.

It took him only five minutes to reach the chambers in his run, stopping only when he realized he had gone the wrong way or someone was in his. When he did, the lights inside were off and soldiers still patrolled off in the distance, making their rounds. Alexander grumbled about their uselessness, knowing deep down they could not be blamed, and continued on through the doors. The main chamber was unlit, and empty. He walked in quietly, looking around, hoping to spot her. Perhaps she were here to cause mischief for the council...

"Emma?" he whispered into the dark, knowing that even in that whisper, she could hear him well enough if she were around. "Emma, we have to back to your room. If you are here, come out." but there was no response. He was about ready to turn and leave when his eyes caught something on the floor in the distance. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, it was clear he was looking at light flickering out from beneath a door that lead to the inner chamber.

When he got close to the door, he could hear the sounds of people inside, muffled. One was distinctly female. He gently turned the doorknob and opened it a creak, to peak inside. His first sight was of, thankfully, Emma. She was standing maybe four or five feet away from the door. That's when he saw someone reach out to touch her face. The fear in her eyes was unreal.

"Oh princess, I can show you how if that is what bothers your sweet little heart." she had grimaced and stepped away, visibly terrified.

"W-what do you want f-from me?" her confusion had startled Alexander to his core. She looked so afraid, so unsure of what was happening. His heart ached at the sight of it.

"Let me show you," the man whispered, and that's when Alexander realized it was one of the councilmen, Olmpa. A righteous fury burned through him and he threw the door open with a howl, startling the two. Emma jumped and faced him with a pale face but Olmpa was seized with terror. "W-what are you doing—" but he was cut off. Alexander leapt at him, bringing him to the floor, and began beating his face.

"Alex!" she gasped, horrified, as she ran over to try and stop what was happening. It did not work.

Alexander kept swinging at Olmpa's face over and over again until the man's screaming and begging was no more than whimpering and even then he wanted to continue, to beat the man's face in until it was nothing but a puddle on the floor, but Emma had stopped him. Maybe he didn't hear her because of his rage, because he was so fixated on dealing with this trash, but when he felt dainty arms wrap around his waist to try and pull him away he caved and allowed her to move him—as difficult as it was for her.

"Stop, stop, stop, please," she begged, her voice raw and shaky. "Please...just stop!"

He gave the man on the floor not another thought and took Emma into a protective hug. "Are you okay? Oh gods why did I ever leave you..." he turned his glare to Olmpa, who was rolling his head this way and that way in pain, whimpering and sputtering blood. "The king's daughter...you stupid shit. The king's daughter!"

"Alex, please, leave it be." she begged him, watery eyes pleading with him.

He gave her a startled look. "Leave it be? How could you say that? Your parents need to know about this, especially your father!"

"Please, no, no one can know, especially my father. He'll be so angry with me...please, promise me Alex, promise me you won't say anything."

"What?" he asked, confused. "You can't be serious...your father isn't going to be angry with you!" he said, astonished to hear her say that. At least a dozen soldiers poured into the room half a heart beat later, swords drawn.

"Please," she begged him again, tears burning in her pretty eyes. "If you t-t-tell father, he w-w-will send me away."

Alexander foused his gaze on her, pity squeezing his heart at the sight of her terror. The guards were securing Olmpa by then, but the poor girl never even spared him or the others a look. She was serious. She didn't want this to be told, not to anyone else. But why?

"Emma," he whispered, taking her hand gently. "You have nothing to fear from your father. What happened tonight, it was..." he struggled on how to continue. She was not even aware of what Olmpa was trying to do and he was certain that if he explained it—here and now—she would be terrified to her core. Perhaps it is for the best she doesn't know... he sighed. "We can discuss this later. For now, I need to get you to safety and inform your uncle of the situation."

Alexander took her gently by the shoulders and walked her out of the room. The entire way to the foyer, she shook like a leaf. He knew her parents were going to skin him alive and he knew he would deserve it. The stupidity of leaving her, even for a moment...

He would face the fire, because he earned it, but he wouldn't let her out of his sight again!

••••••••••••

As soon as they had exited the great chambers, captain Wren was upon them, with another full platoon of men at his back. He was furious when he was told the full details of what had occured-and thankful, too, that their dear princess was none the wiser to the extents of what Olmpa was after. He sectioned off some of his platoon to reinforce the group taking the councilman to the cells and then insisted on following after them. Alexander didn't protest it. The added security was a godsend.

The march to the foyer was quiet, and so was the princess. He could feel her trembling beside him. He knew she was still afraid, and not because of Olmpa, but of her parents. Although he had tried to convince her that her parents, her father especially, would not be upset with her, she had not listened to him. Half way to the foyer, he couldn't ignore the shivering anymore.

"Are you okay, Emma?" she was quiet for a second before nodding. "Are you sure? It is alright if you are not okay, you know."

"I...I'm okay," she mumbled. "I'm just t-tired."

Aye, for one like you, this night must have tired you before description... but he knew she was lying, in some part. She wasn't okay. She was scared and cold on top of tired. Yet something always held the poor girl back from expressing how she felt, and it annoyed him. Her stubbornness was cute most other times, but for this...for this it was only terrifying.

"We are nearly to the foyer. Once we are there, I will see to it that we get you something so you can rest." he had reached to touch her shoulder, and pulled back sharply at how cold her skin had felt. "Gods, you are ice cold!"

"Only...only a little," she addmitted quietly, looking ashamed.

Alexander hurriedly took his jacket off and drapped it about her dainty shoulders. "You ought to have said something earlier, princess. You could have caught a cold. This should keep you warm until we've near you a fire."

Emma accepted it slowly, holding it to her. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am, you silly girl," he said sternly, but hoping she did not take too unkindly to the worried tone. "I couldn't very well let you freeze to death." she didn't say anything to that, but he smiled a bit when she snuggled into the warmth of his jacket. The gentle blush that crossed her cheeks said it all, and for once, he did not feel attraction to it, only gratitude. Because he knew it meant that she wasn't rattled too thoroughly by what had happened. The mercy of her not understanding...it had made things a lot easier.

When they arrived at the foyer, Wren had a soldier restock the fireplace and light it, and sent another off to inform Sabin of the situation, and yet another to seek out Celes Chere. Wren himself said he would take a regiment and ride hard to Figaro to inform the king and queen himself, but swore to leave half of the castle armed and ready for anything.

He only left when he checked over the princess himself, ensuring she was okay, and having said his goodbyes. Alexander watched as the poor girl hugged the man, clearly afraid to let him go. He patted her back gently and promised her he would be back with her parents, and made her swear to listen to Alexander, her uncle and Chere while he was gone.

When they were at last alone—well, with other soldiers—he helped her to one of the sofas. She was now starting to get annoyed by the treatment, he knew, but she seemed to understand that if she tried to fight any of them on it, she would get in trouble.

At the comfort of the sofa, she gave a sigh and collapsed into it. Without an order being given, one of the soldiers rushed to the other sofa, took up the shawl there and brought it over for her.

"You must get some rest," he told her sternly when she curled into the shawl but had moved upright. "I'm serious, girl. Get rest."

Emma shrunk into the shawl and lowered her eyes. "I...I can't."

"Why?" but her answer was to shrink away more, looking ashamed. It took him only one second to understand why. She was afraid, and she wasn't going to say it. At least, not in front of so many. He sighed. "Well, whether you can or can't, you'll try."

"But—"

"I will not hear it," he cut her off. "You need your rest and I know you are tired." for this, he whispered it, knowing that she would not appreciate him saying it loud enough for the soldiers to hear, too. "I'll get you something to eat or drink, if it will help tire you out." She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. "Come, there must be something that will help you sleep." she shook her head and he glanced at the soldiers, quickly. Ah, so that was it. He turned to them. "Gentlemen, if you would just step outside for a moment, I need to talk with the princess." they tried to argue, but he crossed his arms and eventually they complied, if only because he was left in charge. "There, they are gone...is that better?"

"A...a little," she mumbled, voice breaking.

Alexander took a seat on the far end of the sofa, away from her. "Emma...are you going to tell me what happened? Why did the council even call you so late? Why were you there?"

"They...they summoned me."

"I understand that part, but why? And why did you think it wise to listen?" her eyes widened and he took a step back from that approach. "I'm not angry at you and I'm not blaming you, I am only trying to understand what happened."

"But I don't know."

He sighed. "You do know, but you are lying to me. Why?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "What are you so frighten of? You aren't in trouble and that man can't hurt you, not here, not ever."

"B-but I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" he touched her hand. "Please, you can talk to me. You have nothing to fear." but she said nothing and he drew back. "What do you think I'm supposed to tell your parents, Emma?" he asked, angrily. "Do you think they will accept 'I don't know what happened, your majesties!'? Do you think that they should? They will skin me alive and I wouldn't blame them one bit! I'm going to face a storm when they come back, and I've no problem facing it, so long as you just trust me and tell me what happened."

"I'm s-sorry," she cried, stammering and shaking so violetly he stiffened in fear he had done something wrong. "I d-didn't want this to happen. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You didn't do anything wrong," he told her gently. "Please, I know this is difficult for you, but you must tell me."

And then suddenly, like a faucet breaking, she started to sob the explaination. The reasoning she had been summoned in the first place and that she was told to return again later, and that Olmpa was going to trade her something to keep her secret. Her secret was the source of her fear, he found out quickly, because she was afraid her parents would expel her for it. Her antics at the academy with the Imperial material had been the blackmail. Alexander explained to her next that it was okay, that the material wasn't even illegal, that her parents wouldn't care one way or another that she had done it. But she was convinced. Convinced that when her father heard, he would send her away.

"That would never father and mother love you, they could never send you away." he told her, bringing her into a hug, hoping his body warmth would help stop the shivering. "You have nothing to fear here. I promise you. You are safe now."

"I...I w-w-want my m-m-mother," she cried into his arms, shaking like a leaf still.

He held her closer, heart drawn to the sad, terrified girl in his arms. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

Alexander held her the rest of the night until she had fallen asleep. And the only thought that ripped at him was keeping her from ever being afraid again.

••••••••••••

Emma woke to the sound of muffled talking and tiredly began rubbing the bleariness from her eyes. She was still in the foyer, but the fire had gone out and there wasn't another soul in sight. Still rubbing at her eyes, she sat up and looked around the room more. It was empty. Her heart had sunk immediately, as the fear raced to take control again.

The overwhelming fear that she was alone made tears begin anew, and she cried out, "Alex?"

The doors swung up and her uncle came running in, and swooping her up in a warm hug. "My little doe!" he howled, pressing her tighter to him until she struggled, unable to breathe easily. "Gods! Are you alright?" he let her go, though there wasn't any laughter or gentleness to him now, only fear. "Did that bastard hurt you?" he turned her face this way and that way, inspecting her.

"Uncle," she sniffed, hugging him back. "I—I'm okay."

"My sweet little niece," he mumbled, brushing hair from her face. "I'm so glad you're okay. If anything had happened to you, I...I wouldn't know what to do, or say to your parents. I would have come in earlier, but Alexander and Celes demanded that I let you rest as long as you needed. I'm glad you woke up, because I was quickly losing patience." this time, he finally laughed, though it was fringed with fear. "And you are sure you are okay?" she nodded, and rubbed a hand against her runny nose. "Gods, that is good news! Alexander has already told me and Celes what happened. Suon and Hals have handled Olmpa, so you have nothing to fear from him any more."

"Is m-mother and father b-back?"

Sabin shook his head. "I'm afraid not yet, little one, but they will be home soon. In the mean time, you are to stick to the shadows of Alexander, Celes or me whenever we are around, is that understood?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Now, don't make such a face," he said, gently. "This is serious, my girl. That man could have seriously hurt you."

"I'm sorry..."

"None of that," he said softly, hugging her again. "You have naught a thing to apologize for. Do you know how terrified I was when I heard?"

He was still hugging her, and so tightly she could barely speak. "Ihm dohn moh!"

Her uncle laughed nervously and released her. "Oops, my bad, little doe."

The door abruptly flung open and a guard poked his head in. "King Regent! Your brother has docked at South Figaro. The coastguard has written ahead to warn us that we are to have the roads properly secured for their return."

Sabin thanked him and sent him on his way before ruffling Emma's hair. "See? They will be here before the night is out." Emma took her uncle into a hug this time with a sniff. Her uncle always knew how to cheer her up without making her feel weak and pathetic. He smiled, softy, and held her a little longer before he finally let her go. "I must go see Suon and Hals, but don't you worry. I have instructed the soldiers to keep the area locked up better than the Gildish Banks in Albrook. And Alexander will be escorting you personally when I am not around."

Alexander? Her heart froze. Oh, as if it wasn't enough that she had to worry about her secrets, she had to deal with him for the remainder of the day? Was her getting him in trouble not enough? "W-what? Why?"

"He is still your charge, Emma, until your parents have returned. So until they dismiss him, he remains as your caretaker. Besides, I have things I need to do with Hals and Suon, and I would rather not drag you all about the castle risking your security."

Emma couldn't argue with the decision. Besides, she just wanted to see her parents and if it meant hiding about the castle, she would do it without complaint.

"...are you listening?" her uncle asked, smiling. She blushed and nodded furiously. "Good. I have had the second room prepared for you so you could do your...well...girly things. When you are through, you will meet up with Alexander. He will be waiting for you at the end of the stairs just outside." he ruffled her hair again with a smile before leaving.

As soon as she was left alone again, she curled herself up, trembling, afraid yet again for her father's return.

••••••••••••

Alexander briskly paced the foot of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest and breathing hard. He was not angry. He was far from it. His worry had returned tenfold over the night. He could not stop thinking about what had nearly happened, and how just being a minute later than he was could have been too late. He had assumed she was scared, yes, but when she cired for her mother... that had put things into perspective. She had done an astonishingly good job at hiding her fear of what happened behind fearing her father. He had forgotten that, beneath it all, she was still just a kid.

She's terrified, he thought, flexing his hands now to try and calm himself. I never should have left her alone, but... his thoughts raged in anger. Gods! I should have killed him! He knew he would have and he wouldn't have felt an ounce of regret for it, but she had been there. If he had done something so grotesque in front of her, it would have only amplified her fear, he knew it.

To be blackmailed like that...and not even understand what he was trying to do! he took a breath. No matter. Soon enough the king and queen would return, and Olmpa would face the full power of the Figaro justice system. And it would be about time, too, considering all of the allegations pitted against the man.

Alexander wasn't so sure it would be enough for Emma though, let alone her father. He knew that despite Edgar being a rather merciful leader, he had his limits set upon by his love for his family, especially for his daughter. Alexander couldn't even rule out public execution. Edgar may not have ever done such a thing before, but there was always a first for everything.

"Just let her be alright," he whispered to himself. And that's when he heard gentle footsteps and turned around. His eyes widened at the sight. The princess was standing at the middle of the stairs with her hands cupped nervously over her stomach. She was dressed in a small smokey grey skirt that went beyond her knees and a matching blouse embroidered with the Figaro sigil right over her heart. Her hair cascaded down her back and framed her face, which was pale with exhaustion.

And yet, looking so tired, he had never seen her look so beautiful before. He could barely breathe. He swallowed back a strange compliment and forced a bright smile to cover the worry that had been there a moment before.

"Good morning, princess." She blinked at him, looking disappointed, and he realized she probably did not expect that serious tone from him on top of his respect to her titles, but if he didn't remind himself of the social status divide between them, he would do something stupid. "Did you sleep well?" He had counted to three seconds of eye contact before she lowered her eyes and nodded. It made him suddenly think on it. Had he ever seen her keep contact with someone's eyes for longer than a few seconds? He couldn't even think of one instance of it, or was this new behavior he was sensitive to because of Olmpa? "Are you well, then?"

"Yes, I am fine." she said quietly. He kept his eyes on her, fascinated by the way she moved and talked and carried herself, fascinated by the strength in her that she couldn't even see in herself. She noticed the quiet instantly and lifted her gaze just a bit. "Alexander?"

He snapped out of it with a smile. "I am glad to hear that. I have been worrying since I left you last night."

"I...I didn't mean to make you worry," she said. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," he quickly ascended the stairs until he was was one step lower. He held out a hand. "Let us put aside that talk for now. I'm sure you are hungry, and it wouldn't be right of me to keep you here." she hesitated before taking his hand. He guided her down the steps and hadn't noticed at all the blush that graced her face until they were halfway down the hall. He thought at first it was because of the hand contact, but when he threw the doors open to the great hall and she stepped in quickly, he realized it was because he was treating her like a fragile child.

"I will go speak with the staff about breaking your fast. Do not leave this room." he walked away, turned to see if she was obeying, before hurrying off again when he saw that she took a seat at the long table she and her father ate at.

Inside the kitchen, he bombarded the early working staff with questions. They were startled at first but were more than willing to help him when he explained that Emma was waiting in the hall. He had no idea what she would like to eat, at least in a moment like this, and they obliged to put in what they thought she would best like.

He was so lost in it he hadn't noticed that the staff quieted and took a respectful bow to him. No, he realized, not to him. He turned around and saw that Celes had entered the kitchen. She was dressed in her full military outfit. Her rank was higher than even that of Suon and Hals, and it made no wonder that the staff would bow.

"Celes," he said, a little astonished to see her here. He had expected her to be with the generals discussing the situation. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" she asked with a furrow of her brows. "I am here to see Emma. I heard that she has finally awoken. Is she in the hall right now?"

"Yes, but—" she stopped mid-step to look at him and suddenly he clamped his mouth shut. He couldn't deny her seeing the princess even if he wanted to. What right did he have? Instead, he said, "—be careful with her. She's more rattled than she is letting on."

Celes flipped her hair, annoyed. "I do not need to be told something so obvious." and then she walked by him and exited the way he had arrived. When he moved to follow, the staff stopped him to ask for help. Unwilling to deny them that since he had bothered them earlier, he sighed and turned to help.

When he was through with the tasks they set aside for him, he carried the tray of finished food into the hall. Sitting at the table with the princess, Celes was leaning toward her, speaking low, as if what she had to say was a secret. He approached slowly.

"...I received a notice from the coastguard that your parents have left South Figaro," she told the princess softly. "They will be here shortly. I just wanted to see if you were alright before I head out to find your uncle."

"I'm fine, Lady Cole."

Celes laughed. It was very warm. "Please Emma...I am simply Celes." she rose from her seat. "Now, you be sure to stay with Alexander, and I feel like I shouldn't have to say this but...if someone tries to take you away, or someone you don't know speaks to you, scream. Scream as loud as you can."

Alexander could tell by the expression on Emma's face that she didn't quite understand the need to do something like that, but he could tell that she was not going to argue it. She mumbled an affirmative. Celes, pleased, knelt to hug the girl before leaving.

He sat the tray down with a smile. "I suppose I don't warrant a hug, hm?" that made her blush. "Well, I will add it to your tab." it was a victory when she smiled at him.

"Alexander...I..." she folded her hands on her lap with a sigh. "I'm sorry I caused you trouble. I...I shouldn't have left my room."

He took a seat beside her and reached out to touch her hands. "Listen to me Emma...this isn't your fault, I meant what I said earlier. You aren't to blame. You listened to the summons of a council who should have known better than to request you so late and alone, leaving you open to Olmpa's foulness. I know you haven't said it again, but I know you still think you will be in trouble."

"I...I..."

"You need to listen to me," he squeezed her hands. "You will not be in trouble. Trust me. Your mother will probably strangle you, but not out of anger, but love. That is all. I promise you."

"W-what if you are w-w-wrong?"

He leaned back, thinking. He supposed he had to give her that. He could be wrong, but he knew Terra and Edgar. They would never raise their hands to anyone unless they were defending themselves, friends or family. And if it concerned their daughter? It was inconceivable. Still, he couldn't look at her and deny her fears impossible, just unlikely.

"If they are angry with you, what do you expect them to do?" he hoped his question wouldn't frighten her any further, thankfully it did not. She fiddled with her fruit bread and shrugged. "Really Emma, what do you expect them to do?"

"I know they will send me away early...hate me, even..."

He knew if he told her that was ridiculous it would hurt her, so he said, "Well, if that's the case...I'll convince them otherwise. No matter what. I'll do everything in my power to change it. I promise you. Though I honestly believe you have nothing to worry about. Do you know how much your parents love you?"

"But if I don't behave..."

"Even when you ignore them, scream at them, talk back to them, run off and yes, even when you drink," that made her smile grow. "they will always love you. I think you know that in your heart." and then he smirked and leaned back into his seat. "And should they try to send you away to the mountains to live like a hermit, then I'll just kidnap you and take you to Albrook. You'll be my woman, of course, and you'll have to feed me figs and get me my mead whenever I so ask for it."

Emma started to giggle, easing away from her worries into that spirit that he was beginning to adore more than he could ever describe. "You're so stupid." Alexander smiled at her, delighted by the sound of her laughter.

••••••••••••

It was taking everything that he had not to lose his temper about the speed their carriage was traveling. They had already taken three detours, costing precious daylight for the day, and that was three too many than what he would tolerate. It was hard enough for him to keep his wife emotionally in check, from spilling over the edge, and this delay was not helping.

His sons were grating his raw nerves even more than the speed of their travel. They snickered that Emma must have lost it on one of the councilmen at first, but when the letter was read aloud, they were stunned into silence and shame. However, their snickers had worsened Terra's nerves.

And when they got word of what happened in Figaro, they were an hour off the coast of South Figaro. The notice came from his brother and Celes, and was as about detailed as you would expect a military notice would be. It left room for him, and his wife, to wonder exactly what transpired. They only knew as they speedily bumped down the roads that one of the councilmen had assaulted their daughter. For the sake of security, it did not specify what that meant.

"The castle, your majesties." the coach said back to them. Terra lifted herself up out of the seat, fearfully, eyes wide, as if she could spot her daughter already. The gates were barred shut, but they could still see the soldiers stationed among the parapets. The road leading up to the gate had been cleared, and a long line of soldiers remained up until the gate.

The men above blew a trumpet and the gate was slowly lifted out of its lock. As soon as it was high enough to see beyond, they spotted Celes and Sabin standing a ways off, waiting. Beside them were the generals, and about a dozen soldiers from the Golden Lions. His wife couldn't even wait for the carriage to pull to a full stop. She threw the door open and hurried out toward them. Edgar swore and followed after her.

Celes greeted his wife with a half hug and pat on the back, to reassure everything was fine. Terra would not have it though. She was asking countless questions without waiting for the answer. It was all, of course, focused on her daughter. Finally Celes had enough and lifted a hand to cover Terra's mouth.

"Terra, Terra, please...wait. Emma is safe. I promise you. When I last saw her for the day, she was breaking her fast with Alexander and an entourage of a dozen soldiers."

"She's fine?" Terra asked with a squeak that was borderline a cry.

"Yes," Celes said again, firmer. "A little confused, if anything I think, but fine. And missing her parents something fierce, though she won't say it out loud."

Edgar said, trying to keep his own fears deep inside, "What happened? The notice was relatively vague."

Sabin shook his head. "Not here. First, you see your daughter, and then we will talk in the war room."

"No," Edgar said. "War room first. We need to know what it is we are dealing with before we see her."

Terra agreed. "It will help us with her to know the full situation first."

Celes couldn't argue. She nodded. "Alright. If that is what you desire." just then the boys finally appeared. "What about your sons?" the two had completely forgotten about their sons at the moment. Edgar considered it for a moment.

"Cambyses, take your brother and head to my study. Wait there until we arrive, then we will go find your sister together." His eldest son left without any argument, which in any other situation, Edgar would have stopped to acknowledge, but now was hardly the time. He and Terra followed Celes and his brother back into the castle and split away from his sons. They were headed to the north-west, towards the great hall, while they were headed to the center of the castle grounds.

When they were all gathered inside of the war room and the doors were closed, Sabin began the discussion. As soon as he got the words out about what Olmpa had tried, Edgar demanded to know where the man was being kept. Terra had started to cry and took refuge in her friend's arms, who kept trying to reassure Terra that everything was alright.

"Edgar, I understand you are furious," Sabin said, holding him back from the doors. "but you cannot just charge down there and do whatever you want to the man. We have laws, do they not matter when they concern you?"

Edgar was so furious. "No, they don't apply to me! I am the king!"

"So you are above the law?"

This seemed to have calmed him down considerably. Edgar looked away. "Take us to our daughter."

••••••••••••

When she finished with breakfast, she didn't know what to do with the rest of the day. She wasn't permitted to leave the castle, not even to attend the gardens alone, so her options were limited. She spent some time, with her huge swarm of protectors, walking the gardens. She tried to visit the chapel, but the guards and Alexander wouldn't let her. It was "too crowded", they said. She couldn't understand why that mattered. It wasn't as if everyone inside would turn and bare their claws at her.

And so with very little to do, her options led her to reading. Alexander seemed plenty pleased with her stationary decision and didn't offer up alternatives as he had for just about everything else. She never argued with him though, even if in other situations she would have. He was worried, not just for her, but for himself and how her parents might react toward him. For that, she would try her best not to be, as her brothers said, "a selfish brat".

Alexander took a spot to her right, so close his elbow almost touched her arm. He didn't have as hard as a time deciding on what to pick out of the library as she did but he stood beside her until she did decide. It was somewhat annoying, but only because she wasn't sure what to make of him being so close to her. It was all so new, and oddly frightening.

He's so close, she thought, though she dared not lift her eyes to look at him. What do I do? She didn't want to look like an idiot or a child, or annoy him, by doing anything else, but the closeness was starting to be very uncomfortable for her and yet even at the same time she did not want him to move away.

Emma was in the middle of an interesting scene of a fantasy literature series when the doors flew up and the sound of her mother's worried voice cut through the quiet of the room. Even before she could set her book down and stand from her chair, her mother rushed her and took her into a tight hug that nearly choked the life out of her.

"My sweet pea! Oh, I'll never leave you again!"

"I'm...okay...mother!" she managed to say in between her mother's adjustments to her iron clad grip. She tried to pull out of her mother's grasp, but the woman was too strong. As quickly as Terra had taken her into her arms, she plastered kisses all over her daughter's face. "Mother! Please!" she was utterly horrified! Alexander was still in the room, staring with a smile of pure amusement. Even her brothers had stepped into the room just in time to see her be pampered to like some babe.

They tried to hide their snickers, but their father heard and shot them a menacing glare. They backed away from whatever tease they had, understanding now perfectly that Edgar would not tolerate it in such a serious setting. At the moment Emma was trying to disengage from her mother's hugs and kisses to notice that her brothers were being silently scolded.

"That's enough Terra," Edgar said, not roughly but firmly. "You will squeeze all the life out of her at this rate." instantly Terra released her daughter with a frown. As soon as she was free, Emma frantically rubbed at the kisses, as if erasing their marks would somehow convince Alexander she wasn't some sniffling baby being soothed for some nightmares she might have had. "Emma, my dear...if...if you are sure you are well." she lifted her eyes to her father and he cleared his throat, discouraged from continuing with whatever it was he was going to say. "I am glad you are alright. I was worried. However...since you are well I will need an explanation from you."

"F-from m-me?" she asked, eyes rounding with horror.

"Who else? It happened to you." her brother Cambyses cut in. He had not meant for it to sound like a tease or jab of some sort, they all knew it, but even so Edgar once again glared to shut him up.

It will be known by all sooner rather than later, her voice said. Tell them. You have nothing to hide and should they try anything...

Emma looked away from the stern eyes of her father. If she had known this was how it would turn out, could she have changed anything?

I wish I never went to see the council!

Face your decisions! her voice snarled. Stand up to them, accept them!

"Emma?" her father prompted. "Well?"

"I...I w-went to..." her heart started to thump furiously. Oh was this her end in Figaro? "I went t-to to see the c-council and...and..."

Alexander stepped up quickly, motioning for her to sit back down. There was a look in his eye that said it all. He was helping her. She offered him an appreciative smile. "The council called upon her around nine, your majesty. From my understanding, and I'm sure your brother can confirm or deny this, the council had bombarded her with questions on marriage."

"They what?!" Terra asked.

"That's not all," Alexander said, passing a quick glance towards Emma. She felt sick. This was it. She kept her eyes down, so that they would not be able to see the tears when her father freaked out. "As the council disbanded, Brud said he saw Olmpa stop Emma."

At this, Emma was alarmed. That was not how it was. If Brud told Alexander this tale, it meant the councilman had something in store for her, or perhaps had decided holding that secret now in an attempt to blackmail her might result in a curt beheading or imprisonment by a furious father wearing a crown. Whatever the reason, Emma was sure it was costly.

Continuing undisturbed by her realizations, Alexander informed her father that Olmpa requested her back at the council later in the night. "This part is a bit fuzzy on the details, she was a bit shaken," he said and Edgar nodded, understanding. "but Olmpa had..." he paused and Emma knew he was considering her fears, though she knew now that her father was going to find out. One way or another. He cleared his throat. "Olmpa had come across information that your daughter had, well...damaged academy property. He was planning on using it as blackmail."

Terra's eyes instantly went to her daughter, astonished. Benjamin looked horribly confused. Cambyses snorted, a bit smug, though Emma could not decide on what that meant. "That was you?" her mother asked, brows furrowed. Emma, completely ashamed, started to cry.

"I'm s-s-sorry mother. I didn't m-mean for it to be s-so serious. I didn't know."

"Oh honey, honestly," Terra said with a small chuckle that released some of the fear. "I don't care about that at all. All I care about is your safety."

"It is unimportant," her father barked, catching their attention. Emma waited for the harsh words of disappointment and anger and closed her eyes. "I don't care if my daughter burnt the damn place down. This is unacceptable!" and then, before she could properly adjust, her father pulled her into a hug. It was so strange. He very rarely hugged her lately and especially in front of strangers. "How long has this been going on? Has he been bothering you?"

Still stunned, all she could manage to say was, "N-no, father."

"Good," he said, pressing her tighter against him, as if afraid to let her ago. A moment later he let go and cleared his throat, very embarrassed. "I am glad you are alright. We shall talk of this later. For now, your mother and I need to talk with your uncle and the generals to discuss this." he looked over at his sons. "Take her to her room and stay with her until we return. If she needs anything, get it for her."

"b-but father I can—"

"No," he said, though his words were soft and his eyes serious. "You will do as I say for once without protest. Go to your room and stay there. This isn't a punishment, I promise you." he kissed her forehead and then faced Alexander. "You will come with us and explain the situation to the rest of the council and again to law officers. I shan't expose my daughter to the turmoil of this horrific experience again if I can help it."

"Of course," Alexander said and before he followed Edgar out, he passed a look to Emma, just as her mother was kissing her face goodbye the same way as she had before. Only when she was done did Terra follow her husband.

And then, as if he was desperately holding it in until then, her brothers burst out in laughter. She felt the heat rise to cheeks when she reluctantly faced them and readied herself for their hysterical tirade on her naivety and inability to even prank them correctly.

Benjamin rubbed tears away. "I knew it was you, you little punk! Do you know how long professor Retei lectured me? He thought I did all that!"

Emma stared, shocked. "You...you knew this entire time...why aren't you a-angry with me?"

He disregarded that with a wave of his hand and a chuckle. "Mad? That was down right perfect! I mean, sneaky bastard move, but it was good. Of course, I'm going to have to get you back for it."

"And we will be getting you back, be sure of that," her eldest brother said with a smirk.

They weren't mad at all! They were amused! Slowly, still unsure but too happy to keep it down, she smiled and laughed.

---

EDIT: As of February 12th 2021, this chapter has been heavily revised. You might have noticed that the tournament piece had been written out completely. This is important. Emma is a frail girl, one who had quit her training long ago because it was too difficult for her to maintain, so I felt like it was a big contradiction to her condition to still have her engage in it. She of course still felt the need to stand strong in front of her brothers and whatnot, but ultimately I knew she could not take a step onto the platform. I hope my readers like the change. xD

Oh, right. And I want to make it abundantly clear in this rewrite that Alexander's intentions with Emma were never started earnestly. That he had been led by his desires and by it alone. A dog among dogs. It was something of "meh" in the original, that his lusts had been a side flirtation to him, but it wasn't. Alexander had moved onto Emma at first solely because he desired her, and since it is an important aspect of his character readers must understand that he has changed—for her entirely. He is not a bad person, but he has made bad decisions, and I felt it was important to really show that dramatic change for him by exploring more of his original intentions and how it developed further than that.

Also, here are some quick notes. These notes have not changed since they were first created. For the sake of the story and making it a bit more...non-earthy, I designed a calendar system for it. Most of them align to our months—yes, yes, I am aware the characters have birthdays in OUR world, but I have reasons for it and I hope you guys might like it—but there are additional changes to it. You might have noticed that many of their names resemble Esper names and their descriptions from FF12. This is intended.

Here they are. A full list will be provided later on.

*Arut is the equivalent of "October" in the FF6 world.

*Mitros is the equivalent of "January" in the FF6 world.

*Sanus is the equivalent of "Sunday" in the FF6 world.

*The Gentle Mantis: the fighting style is a mixture of Baguazhang, Wing Chun, Choy Li Fut and Fānziquán but to a lesser extent of physical violence. It takes the liquid-y movements of all and combines them into a self-defense art that uses methods of keeping an aggressor away from you by deploying soft yet hard actions against the opponent. There in it turns the attacker's aggression against themselves. It takes years and years of practice to use it as if it were a battle form. It was technically created by Sabin in the fanfiction, but he took unfinished forms from his Master and finished them after the events of FF6. He never used it because he felt it did not suit his style or his dojo's image. It wasn't until Emma wanted to learn how to fight like her brothers that Sabin decided it was for her.

*The Striking Mantis: daughter form, aka a "branch off" of Gentle Mantis. Commonly taught to girls, it is also taught in some forms to small boys if they are willing.