'If there were more gallant young men like you, perhaps more youths would attend the Elimine mass like they do in Etruria,' Heide mentions to Gale as they exit the sparse congregation of elderly people. The old woman's sliver hair is pulled back into a spherical bun. Her hazel eyes look up at the Bern knight, radiating through the sagging skin folds around them, 'in fact, who's that lady-friend who keeps waiting for you after mass? You should ask her to come join us.'

'I don't have any lady-friend.' How is there someone suspicious trailing him already? Gale has only been in the Bern army for three weeks.

'There, the young lady wearing the olive headscarf,' Heide points with a trembling finger through the crowd.

Gale glimpses a young woman in a grey dress. Wisps of crimson hair poke out from under the scarf. As soon as they make eye contact, she darts away. Heide chuckles, 'oh, dear. Looks like she got shy. She must be really fond of you!'

'I wouldn't be so sure...' Gale rests his hand on the small knife handle sticking out from his belt. Who could she be? He runs through the missions he had completed in Ilia, wondering if any of them could have left a vengeful figure in its wake. Perhaps she's an Etrurian aristocrat's servant who had heard about Gale's migration to Bern and was sent to investigate his activities. Darn the Etrurian aristocracy: they're all like his biological father, that Etrurian nobleman who abandoned him and his mother to continue the woman-chasing sport in other parts of the continent. As if that wasn't bad enough, illegitimate children are expected die in oblivion to preserve the upper classes' reputation. In any case, it would be foolish for a lone, recent migrant like Gale to dismiss a stalker, 'Ms Heide, if you could ask the young lady what she wants from me that would be helpful.'

'I'll certainly try, Sir Gale,' Heide encloses a liquorice candy in his callused hands, 'but don't be shy about approaching her. A man must make the first move!'

He searches the crowd for the young woman. Only the balding heads and neat up-dos of fellow church attendees meet him. At least he has a good-natured follower of Saint Elimine like Heide looking out for him: she may inadvertently save him from a nasty plot. Already, a fellow knight named Narcian had tried to contaminate Gale's breakfast with a sedative after Gale had won a practice duel. The young woman may be planning some scheme of her own. Perhaps she is Narcian's collaborator: Narcian has enough money and charm to draw people into such deals.

'Ellen, did you notice any odd behaviour from Gale?' Miledy pulls the olive headscarf off her head. A crimson braid unravels like a rope over her shoulder, 'Mother suspects him of being an Etrurian spy and she foresaw the attempted assassination of King Zephiel before anyone else. That's why I've taken it upon myself to track Gale's movements.'

'Miledy, don't try to hide,' Ellen takes her knightly friend's hands into her own. The cleric's voice is high and giddy, 'your growing affections for the new arrival are clear!'

'Not this again...' Miledy pins her braid back up, 'this is for Bern's national security. A traitor in time saves nine. That's Mother's motto.'

'If you insist...' Ellen murmurs while swiping the tablecloth off the altar. The cloth makes a voluminous 'flooo' against the table. The fragrance of sandalwood candles and wax whooshes through the air.

'Anyway, I must go to the markets to get some wyvern supplies. Like a treat for Trifinne—yes,' Miledy uses three pins to secure the headscarf, 'I'll see you next week, Ellen.'

Miledy's soles patter against the tiled floor. Ellen holds a duster like a bouquet as she looks up at the Saint Elimine statue, 'Saint Elimine, do give her heart enough courage to show itself. Miledy's supposedly bought a treat for Trifinne every week since Sir Gale arrived…'

'Where did Gale go? He usually visits the markets after mass!' Miledy tucks stray hairs under the scarf while searching among the striped and brown drapes. The air is hot with townspeople wandering through displays of exotic, pungent herbs and animal feed. The stench of sweaty armpits wafts by whenever she stops to peer past a stall. Some of the items are advertised as specialties from the Nabata desert and Ilian mountains, although her father had warned that many were counterfeits.

'You—! Yes, you! The stunning lass in the olive headscarf!' A salesman calls to her with flourish. A pathetic strip of hair runs around his head from one ear to the other, 'the most beautiful face I have ever seen in Bern: fiery crimson eyes, perfectly balanced with a delicate chin and nose— you are the work of Etruria's best artisans and intellectuals combined. Even Princess Guinevere cannot compare!'

'You really must not insult the princess like that.' Of course, most acquaintances only identify Miledy by the crimson hair she shares with her mother, the esteemed tactician Lurja. If only he knew that the potential customer in front of him was Princess Guinevere's personal bodyguard.

'An exemplary patriot too: you would sweep the beauty pageant with your graciousness and looks!' The salesman shoves a flower with dense white and red petals at her, 'a rare lady like yourself is most like the Ilian camellia, flourishing in the harshest parts of the Frozen Highlands. Even its brilliant reds match your eyes and hair. Botanists have murdered one another and surrendered entire estates to obtain it at auctions. But I will sell it to you for a mere 700 gold because it was made for your hands!'

'It's beautiful indeed.' Tiny white spores speckle the innermost petals, like they have been painstakingly splattered with paint. Miledy wonders if Gale has ever seen such a flower while growing up on the Etruria-Ilia border. 'But why should a flower be so expensive?'

'A very astute question!' The salesman's teeth are white enough to blend into the Ilian snow, 'first, this flower only grows in the most brutal heartlands of Ilia. For a mercenary to gift one to his lover is proof of his bravery. Second, it preserves its appearance for far longer than all other flowers. The petals can be crushed into potent anti-aging creams.' The salesman gestures to the beauty product sellers nodding and smiling at interested female customers, 'one petal has the strength of all those jars and vials combined!'

Before she can answer, Miledy feels a someone blocking the wind behind her. Gale's voice resonates with the force of a church bell, 'that flower is a fake.'

Miledy jumps aside, holding her breath as the salesman clenches a bit of tablecloth on his lap. He maintains his saccharine smile, but the eyes are fierce like a wolf's, 'o-one customer at a time please!'

Gale pulls off a white petal and rubs it between his fingers. Paint dust disintegrates and floats into the breeze, leaving only a red petal between his powdery fingertips, 'can you repeat how much you were going to sell this common rose for?'

'Who do you think you are?' The salesman shields the flower behind his blistered hand, 'I bet you're just a foreign merchant who's jealous of my wares!'

'I am Gale, a knight of the Bern army. My job is to uphold the law.' Though in his civilian clothes, Gale's combat-ready stance and gaze betray his position, 'selling plants for consumption requires a medical dealer's licence, as well as the regular seller's permit used to enter the Bern capital. Do you have the medical dealer's licence?'

'My flowers are only for, you know— interior design!' The salesman's nose pimple swells and reddens, 'n-not something you would have a clue about, eh?!'

'Then why were you telling this lady about crushing the petals into an anti-aging substance?!' Gale thumps the salesman's table with his fist, causing the plants on display to jump. Some of the heads fall off their stalks, revealing dried glue globs on the tips, 'either pack up your wares or face court tomorrow!'

'Fine!' The salesman swipes all the flowers off the table. Some of the heads roll onto the ground, 'I'll go somewhere people actually enjoy my flowers, not joyless souls like you who tear them apart!'

As the salesman sticks a pipe in his mouth, Gale gives Miledy a salute before uttering, 'miss, I think- Have we met before?'

'N-No!' How could Miledy be caught unawares by the subject of her investigation?! 'Well, thank you for your service, Gale. The Bern army is fortunate to have a just man like you!' She holds onto her headscarf while fleeing through the crowd. The pins tangle and loosen against her scalp.

'Sir Gale is partial towards you too!' Ellen clasps her hands in the church courtyard, 'how wonderful!'

'I'm a terrible investigator! Mother would be so disappointed...' Miledy sits on a sloped stone slab with yellow flowers sprouting around it, 'he almost recognised me. I'm not good at undercover work like her. I much prefer fighting it out in the open.'

'Miledy, have you never read a romance novel?' Ellen pats the pocket of her cleric's skirt, 'the "have we met before?" line is a trope!'

'I thought holy people weren't allowed to read novels, not to say romances,' Miledy remarks as Ellen sits beside her.

'I-I must keep up with the common people's entertainment to better tailor Saint Elimine's message to them!' A blush redder than the fake camellia spreads across Ellen's face, 'besides I only read the sweet ones. Anything too lewd is reported to the bishop so he can remove it from circulation.'

'In legal markets anyway...' Hot air pockets bake Miledy's hair under the scarf. She picks out the pins like weeds to pull it off, releasing the steamy build-up on her head, 'I don't know how you wear your cleric's headdress all day. Let's go inside the church where it's cooler. I'll step out before mass starts so Gale doesn't see me.'

'You could always stay for once!' Ellen calls after Miledy, 'oh well... She'll open her spirit to Saint Elimine one day, especially since Sir Gale is a believer...'

Miledy jolts at the sight of Gale kneeling with his hands propped over the back of the pew in front of him. She darts behind a column. He remains completely still with his eyes closed, praying. She steps out to examine him more clearly. Usually, Miledy only sees Gale on the training grounds, defeating sparring partners with his quick strikes and deft manoeuvres on his wyvern. This is the first time he has looked so serene. From the side, Gale's dark hair is a curtain shielding his cheek, only showing the angular cut of his chin and nose. It waterfalls over his shoulder, mapping the sturdy musculature of his arms and back.

She walks closer, trying to get a better look. His hair shifts when he looks at her, 'G-Gale!' Miledy's mouth gapes open when she feels the olive headscarf crumpled in her hand.

'So, it was you, Miledy.' Gale lifts himself back onto his seat, 'you didn't call me "sir" when we met at the markets the other day. Why have you been following me?'

Her face fires up like a blacksmith's stove, 'I-I'm sorry. I wanted to ask if we could train together. Your technique is so... Unique. But-'

'I understand.' Gale's pause triggers her panic: does he see through the cover story? That her mother had warned about the possibility of him being an Etrurian spy? Or that— that—? Gale rests his hands on his knees, 'you wanted to ask but were afraid of my suspicious status as a foreigner rubbing off on you.'

'No!' Miledy joins Gale's side. A few elderly attendees file in, casting knowing smiles at the two young knights, 'I really meant what I said before: the Bern army is lucky to have you. It's just... You always seem so busy. Either you're training or in the archives studying.'

'I'm sorry if I seemed unapproachable,' Gale salutes to an elderly bishop who makes his way to the altar, 'I've been trying to study Bern's military strategy and history to become a more informed citizen and knight. A defence force as large as Bern's is completely different to being a lone mercenary or even leading a small squad like those in Ilia. But I always have time to train with fellow comrades. Perhaps you could help me learn more about Bern's customs and culture.'

'I'm not sure what I can teach you. Mother always scolded me for not listening during history and politics lectures. But I'd love to train together.' Love? Is that -? No, that's not it! The other attendees stand to attention as Ellen and three other members of the Elimine service enter, 'it looks like mass is starting soon. I'd better leave.'

Just as Miledy is about to stand up, an old woman's hand blocks her lap. Heide grins with yellowed teeth, 'well, well. I didn't expect Sir Gale's lady-friend to be Lady Lurja's daughter. Why don't you stay for mass today?'

'Well,' Miledy studies the hard line of Gale's jaw that connects to his narrow ear, 'I guess it could be interesting...'

As the clerics line up alongside the altar, Miledy whispers to Gale, 'by the way, how did you know the flower was fake? Have you seen an Ilian camellia before?'

'Once while travelling with my mentor, Heath. It was truly stunning,' Gale smiles, relishing the sight of Miledy's crimson irises and hair. Perhaps even the boldest salesman's lie holds some truth, he thinks.

AUTHOR NOTE: In my two Miledy x Gale fan fiction series (An Etrurian "Spy" in Bern and The Defector From Bern), I mention instances of Miledy stalking Gale to church a few times. And so I thought, 'why not just dedicate a bonus episode to such an event?' I picture this extra story, 'Camellia', being slotted between chapter 3 and 4 in An Etrurian "Spy" in Bern (episode 3.5?). Thank you for reading 'Camellia'. An Etrurian "Spy" in Bern is completed and The Defector From Bern is still going (as of 26/SEPT/2023). If you liked this short story, please hop on over to either series to continue the ride ~ kafkascharm.