Author's note: so I'm back to this story after a lot of years. I truly want to finish this one, and I hope you'll bear with me until it's done.
I also decided to edit the first three chapters of the story, so with this one I published also the revised version of the prologue. I'll expand on other chapters and correct a few mistakes - such as the piano, which becomes a harpsichord, considering the medieval setting (but I will need a few artistic licenses, please bear with me). Thank you again for your patience!
Also, I will refer to things from Esthar as Esthari, following colobonema's example. Go read her stories, they rock!
THE WINTER ROSE
III. FIGHT
Squall woke up from a restless sleep, full of uneasy dreams, sinister feminine laughs, and magic power.
His eyes lingered on the blue rose on his nightstand, on the heavy pendant the Royal Family gave him as a gift. He closed them again, swallowing. Damn Cid. If only he had known what entering that tournament really meant, he wouldn't have joined. And that was exactly why Cid had conveniently left out some of the rules.
He was stuck in the role of an eager suitor he didn't want, and moreover to a girl who intrigued him a little too much for his own comfort, and who was also a Sorceress.
The way she fought him, the night before, still felt electrifying. He had come alive while dueling, finding a formidable opponent with grace, technique, strategy, and talent. So much untapped potential. He had loved dueling with her, trying to find a way to defeat her, even knowing what it would mean. The truth was he didn't think he could defeat her, and the falling of Meteor had surprised him. The glimpse of that Universe, as she called it, had been majestic as much as frightening, and the idea of that kind of complete openness to someone else had been terrifying. There was no use in being so open with someone else, it only called for pain and loss and regret and guilt. Letting someone touch his naked soul was out of the question. He couldn't be her Knight - he couldn't be a Sorceress' Knight, it didn't matter what was written in the ancient and forbidden books Princess Rinoa had read.
But what if the books were right, though?
He, Squall Leonhart, heir to the powerful throne of the Esthari Empire, could be born to be a Sorceress Knight. Possibly to the Sorceress heir to the throne of the United Kingdoms of Centra and Galbadia.
The thought forced a bitter laugh from him, as he swung his legs out of the too-luscious bed he was forced to sleep in.
Many tournament winners had slept in that same exact bed. Many tournament winners had danced with the Princess at the celebratory ball. Many tournament winners had dueled with Sorceress Rinoa, the Mistress of Pure Magic.
As he watched the rain drizzle on the snowy fields of Centra, he remembered something she had told him the night before. You know, you're the only winner that survived that string of blows. He pressed his forehead against the window glass, hoping the cold could help him think more clearly.
It was obvious the Princess had tested all her suitors. Being the only one who managed to fight long enough to really challenge her magical prowess must mean something. But that glint of gold in her eyes...
...it was the same glint of gold in Sorceress Adel's eyes. The same glint he saw when he was just a child, as the Sorceress unleashed her inhuman strength on his mother, killing her on the spot before his father's eyes.
He closed his eyes, trying to breathe evenly.
He still remembered that day. He had forgotten most of his childhood, and he had chosen not to remember the parts that hurt the most, but that day was still as clear as the pure white snow below in his mind. He remembered the people hailing down in the street, as his mother and father greeted them from the palace's balcony; he remembered the horrible black, almost fringed wings of Sorceress Adel descending upon them; he remembered his mother shouting to his father to save the children; he remembered his sister's horrified shrieks; he remembered his mother's hideous scream, as she suffocated on her blood, and the Sorceress' eyes glinting gold.
An evil, sinister, unforgettable gold.
He had become an orphan that day, losing his mother, losing his grieving father, losing his shocked sister. Nothing had been the same after Empress Raine's death; his father had become absent, completely engrossed in his mission to rid the world of Adel's presence, and his sister had been sent away, separated from him, because of her magical power. She needed to be protected from the evil grasp of Sorceress Adel, and even though eighteen-year-old Squall could rationally understand it, three-year-old Squall had suffered and later decided he would be independent. Loving people only brought suffering, pain, and bereavement. There was no sense in love. He would prove it himself.
And now he was supposed to be a Sorceress Knight? It couldn't be. He knew the legend and folklore around sorceresses - they were Descendants of Hyne, their powers were very different, they could choose between good and evil, and those who chose good needed a Knight for guidance, to protect their spirit and peace of mind. Knights and Sorceresses were usually lovers, with loves so deep they filled books and poems, with passions so intense they gave life to ardent music. He didn't want that, and he didn't want it especially with Princess Rinoa, a girl whose life was already marred by a curse he surely wouldn't be able to break.
But Princess Rinoa said it didn't mean he had to be hers, just that he was destined to become one. It still made him uneasy to consider something like that - he didn't like when people talked about his destiny, as if he didn't have a choice in the matter, as if he couldn't forge his own future the way he wanted it, as if he couldn't shape his own life as he liked. Destiny was a word that made him feel like things were already decided and laid down in front of him, no matter what he did, chose or said. It was no way to live, and surely it didn't suit well with his desire to be independent, self-sufficient, the kind of man who needs nobody, who needs nothing.
Princess Rinoa, though, was only seventeen years old. There may be things she didn't know, and maybe Knighthood was among those things.
He needed to talk to Edea. She sure seemed the right person to seek answers from.
He just hoped he would like her answers.
After sending a note to Edea, to request to speak with her and her husband, possibly sometime in the morning, Squall left his apartments and joined the Royal Family for breakfast.
If the day before the tradition felt very awkward and almost a means to an end, that day was even worst. He felt particularly ill-at-ease when he saw the Princess, who flashed him a very nervous smile, immediately blushing under her mother's inquisitive stare. He merely nodded, and sat down at his place, at the King's right, and thanked an attendant who poured him some tea and serve him food.
There was silence around the table, and Squall raised his eyes to meet the encouraging smile of the Queen and a satisfied nod from the King. He cleared his throat and hid his embarrassment in his cup. He found that concealing his inner turmoil was getting harder and harder; he felt Rinoa's eyes on him, and he could almost feel how she itched to talk to him about their duel and the meaning of its outcome.
But he wasn't ready, and her silent eagerness was making him more and more awkward. He didn't know how he felt about the knowledge he acquired. His thoughts still felt hazy and blurred, and his memories from his childhood didn't help. He truly needed to talk to Edea before talking to Rinoa, and he could almost feel how the Princess was fidgeting with her cutlery.
"Sir Leonhart, I would like to discuss with you a few matters of concern about the SeeD training, later," said the King.
Squall tried to ignore the understanding and almost apologetic smile the Princess gave him when he unconsciously looked at her. So she remembered he didn't want to be called Sir. "Of course, Your Grace," he answered. "I can give out some orders and join you later this morning to discuss them."
"I was thinking you could join me immediately after breakfast."
Squall sighed, trying to be as polite as possible. "Unfortunately I have some... personal matters to take care of, Your Grace. But I will make sure to be free later this morning for you."
The look the King gave him was inquisitive, calculating, and absolutely unnerving. "I... see. And these... personal matters cannot wait, I understand?"
Squall cleared his throat again. "I'm afraid they cannot, Your Grace. I have already committed myself to another meeting since I didn't know you needed me. Unless the matters you need to discuss with me are urgent, I-"
The King raised a hand. "It is quite alright, sir Leonhart. I don't expect you to drop previous commitments at my whim. You can join me whenever you're ready. There is nothing urgent; I just wanted to discuss the supply of different kinds of monsters for your units' training."
Squall nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Cid Kramer told me you are quite knowledgeable in the wildlife of monsters. I'd like to understand the kind of creatures you could fully utilize for your training, provided they can survive our... weather."
Squall heard the slight intake of breath on his left, where the Princess was sitting in silence. The subtle reference to the conditions she had to live in seemed to hit her deeply, and for her sake, Squall tried to end the discussion on the subject with as much politeness as he could muster. "Of course, Your Grace. I am sure we can think of something later. I think we are probably boring the ladies with this kind of topic."
"Thank you, sir. I and my daughter truly appreciate your consideration towards us. I think my husband could learn something from you."
The King reached out to squeeze his wife's hand, smiling.
Squall stole another glance at the Princess. She was looking at her plate, idly nibbling on some fruit, and the melancholy expression he had come to know so well was deep and obvious on her face. Rinoa raised her eyes and met his gaze, and gave him a tense, tight smile. There was something on her mind, Squall realized, and he could almost feel it on his skin. It was unnerving. It was terrifying. It was electrifying.
Suddenly, the King began to laugh softly, immediately followed by his wife.
"What's the matter, Your Grace?" asked Squall, unable to understand what caused that reaction. His eyes darted to the Princess, who seemed as dumbfounded as he was, and then returned to the Queen, who was looking at him with a knowing smile.
"It's nothing, really," answered the King. "You seem... distracted today, sir Leonhart."
"I'm truly sorry," answered Squall, straightening in his chair. "I just..." He wanted to say I didn't sleep well last night, but he didn't want Rinoa to feel guilty. It wasn't something very wise to say, either. He tried to think of some excuse, but the Queen's melodious laugh filled the room again.
"Maybe it's our daughter's fault, for being too beautiful," she commented, and Squall felt his cheeks becoming too warm. He knew that kind of reaction would put the wrong idea in those parents' minds, but he also knew it was much, much safer to let them think he found their daughter attractive, enough to distract him, instead of revealing a truth that may upset them. Rinoa had acted in a precise way the day before; everything she did pointed to the fact that her parents didn't know she met her suitors in the garden, at night, to challenge them to a duel they didn't win, thereby proving they wouldn't be the person she needed by her side.
It was much, much safer for him to let them think he was falling in love, instead of revealing he was terrified of being the only one who managed to prove himself worthy of their Sorceress daughter.
He wondered if they knew their daughter was a Sorceress. It sure looked like they didn't, or at least they didn't know what being a Sorceress entailed.
He looked at her, and her cheeks were red too. The blush made her look even more angelic, even more innocent, an enticing contrast to the powerful and capable woman who dueled with him the night before. Here she was Princess Rinoa, and her virginal countenance did have an impact on him, even though the impression she had made with her strength and her battle ability was greater and far more alluring to him.
He couldn't deny the attraction he felt.
But he could do anything in his power to stifle and ignore it.
The King watched the exchange of glances between his daughter and her suitor, and cleared his throat, laying his napkin on the table. His wife got the message and followed his example.
"I will be in the throne room, sir Leonhart," said the King, offering his elbow to his wife. "Please feel free to come whenever you're ready. Enjoy your meal. My daughter will keep you company."
And with those parting words, they left, and the moment Squall dreaded couldn't be avoided anymore.
They were alone, and for a long time, there was silence between them. Then, Rinoa put down her fork. "Thank you," she whispered, and he turned to look at her. She was playing with a loose thread on her napkin, and she was not watching him.
"You're welcome," he simply said. He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, but it was once again the much safer thing to do.
There was another silence, and slowly the Princess raised her eyes, still blushing. Her mother was right. She was beautiful. There was something in her features that made her even more charming to him than the beautiful women he had met in his life. The blush suited her in an enchanting, bewitching way and made the contrast with the blunt woman he fought the night before even more enticing. He felt dangerously close to wanting her, and he tried to stifle yet again the desire stirring into him.
He knew the legends, the stories born on the passionate, ardent love between a Sorceress and her Knight. He was already feeling the invincible pull of her magic. He was also acutely aware of the fact he had tried to spare her feelings just a few minutes before, and this was too close to caring for his own taste. He was still able to recognize the traps laid in front of him, and he had every intention of avoiding them. The passionate, ardent love his destiny apparently had in store for him would not come true. It couldn't. He wouldn't let it come true. The brown doe eyes looking at him could draw him in if he wasn't careful enough. But he had spent years perfecting the craft of indifference and independence, and a pair of eyes, fine as they may be, would not make his defenses crumble.
"I... I think we should-" she started, but he interrupted her with gentleness, but forcefully enough to silence her.
"I don't think it would be wise, Princess."
There was enough emphasis on the word Princess to take her breath away. Squall looked at her mouth, slightly agape at the sudden barrier between them. Before the duel, they had been two young adults brought together by circumstances, sharing the awkwardness of a tradition invented to push them together, thus creating a kind of distant camaraderie. The aftermath of the duel was between them, now, and the sooner she learned to deal with it, the better.
Rinoa shook her head and lowered her gaze, even though Squall kept looking at her with intensity. Her hand reached up to close around the ring she was wearing on her chain. Then, she nodded and looked at him again. "I'm sorry. This is new for me, too."
Squall sighed and shook his head too. She was young, cursed, grasping at every single ounce of hope she could have. "It's alright. I just think we... I just... I'm sorry, I need to gather my wits," he said eventually, massaging his closed eyes with his fingers. "I didn't sleep quite enough last night."
She was silent, and then, "I'm truly sorry."
He made a gesture with his hand to acknowledge her apology and then threw his napkin on the table. "I have that meeting to attend now, so if you'll excuse me..."
She merely nodded, and he stood up, gave her a small bow, and exited the room.
Calm. Collected. A little cold. Definitely conflicted.
Rinoa watched him go, recollecting the way she described him the night before. She closed her hand again around the wedding band she wore on her chain. "My Knight... what if I was wrong?"
After a few melancholy moments alone, Rinoa eventually gave up having some semblance of breakfast. She sighed, trying to will away her sense of guilt, and gathered her skirts to go to her music room, where Edea would join her later for her lessons.
It was so ironic. The day before, she had exited that room bursting with anticipation at the upcoming duel with Squall; after seeing him fight during the tournament, and especially after spying on him during his training, she couldn't wait to see for herself the true power of his talent. And now... she was going back to that room feeling guilty, regretful, with a weight on her shoulders that wasn't there the day before. A weight she hadn't expected to feel.
When Edea had fully disclosed to her what being a Sorceress entailed, she had imagined things. She had imagined finding her Knight, she had dreamt about the fiery passion that would burn between them. She had dreamt about feeling secure, protected, loved - loved for the person she was, deep inside her core, and not for her title, for what her social status may have to offer. Loved without compromises. Loved without expectations. Loved with ardor and sincerity. Loved with the kind of love books, poems, and music talked about.
She had craved the intimacy that kind of love entailed, watching Edea sharing it with her husband, thinking one day it could happen to her too. Edea had unconsciously stoked the fire of her imagination by telling her she would feel the pull of her magic towards her Knight, in a kind of attraction that felt natural, unstoppable, in a kind of burning that demanded surrender.
And she had felt it, the day before, watching Squall Leonhart as he fought. She had felt the need to duel with him not to prove he wasn't worthy, but to surrender to his power. Her magic had stretched almost languidly within her, pooling in her womb like liquid heat, and releasing waves of power along her spine as she watched the way he almost danced with his foes. There was something enthralling in the way he could move so gracefully with monsters and wild creatures, and be so rigid and clumsy in a ballroom. Even now, hours after their duel with their delicious outcome, just thinking about the way Squall had dueled and defeated her still made her shiver. There was a languor in her power, something that recognized its true match, the only kindred spirit it could have. She had never experienced that feeling before, and every word Edea had used all those years, to explain to her innocent, too young mind what she had to look for in her suitors, had suddenly made sense.
There was still some kind of feeling she didn't truly understand, a kind of carnal, almost sensual craving moving along the slow patterns the magic was tracing inside of her. Something that made her blush, even though she didn't know why. The intense stares Squall had given her that morning, at breakfast, didn't help, even though he didn't realize how deep of an impact they had on her. She had felt her cheeks grow warmer under his scrutiny, because Squall Leonhart had eyes that bewitched her, and it was so, so easy to think that behind that stormy gaze there was the kind of sensual yearning she also felt.
But Squall Leonhart was like no other she had ever met before. Where other winners had taken advantage of the celebratory dance to put their hands on inappropriate parts of her body, Squall had been respectful, and almost apologetic because of his inability to dance properly, as a princess deserved. Where other winners had been thoughtless and skipped altogether the first breakfast with her family, Squall had been perfectly on time, and even though his conversation skills left something to be desired, he had tried to be polite. Where other winners hadn't seen her as a person with feelings, dreams, projects, and desires, Squall had recognized the pang of pain she had felt at her father's mention of their weather and had tactfully changed the subject. The tenderness she had felt at the realization he was trying to spare her feeling had rendered her speechless, and her magic had spread into her being, as pleasant as the warm fire waiting for her after an afternoon in the frigid winter surrounding her.
And her magic, oh, her magic! She had never felt such an intense reaction from her sorceress self as he had felt with Squall Leonhart. It made her feel like a silly young girl and like a full woman at the same time. It was almost like her power flew in reverence. She couldn't describe the feeling blossoming inside of her, it was just there, indescribable, unbelievable, and wonderful. She had been able to observe previous winners for several days before deciding to send them the message; and her magic had been silent, almost calm, indifferent, as if predicting they weren't worth the trouble. She had dueled with other winners with no effort, defeating them without even having to use her magic power. They had lost when her sorceress self had fueled her gunblade blows, and those who had dared to laugh, after realizing she would be their opponent, had to think again. A couple even fled the duel before the last string of blows.
Not Squall Leonhart, though.
She had watched him during the tournament and her magic had felt immediately bewitched. She had spied on him during his SeeD training and her magic had felt almost at boiling point. She had enjoyed the turmoil of her power, feeling the pull towards him, and Edea's words had immediately made sense. Your magic will recognize your Knight, Rinoa. There was an unfathomable distance between the way Squall had made her feel, and the sensations she got from other winners. His enchanting, stormy eyes had kept her gaze, had watched her the entire duel, had noticed the glint of gold of her power awakening, and Rinoa could swear she had felt her magic rejoice whenever he managed to avoid a spell. And when she had that glimpse of their Universe, she had felt truly at peace, as if it was meant to be. For her entire life, she had hated the idea of having her destiny already marked and being unable to change her future. But Meteor, falling around her, glistening and clinking like crystal, had been so spectacular, so breathtaking, so pure, so right. There were stars in her destiny, and for the first time, she had wanted her destiny. The glimpse she had of it wasn't enough, and she was feeling nostalgic already.
The ancient and forbidden books referred to this responsiveness as the pull of the Bond. A sorceress immediately recognized her Knight because she could only have one in her entire life, because such a formidable power could only have one true match. She sighed, because she had lied to him. She had told him he was destined to become a Knight, true, but she didn't tell him she could only take him as her Knight. It was what it was; a Sorceress could never outlive her Knight, because the loss of her power's true and only match would unleash her madness, but a Knight swore himself to the magic, not to the woman carrying it. But he had seemed conflicted enough about the entire ordeal without her stocking the fire even more. After all, she only had six months left, and maybe he wouldn't be interested in her at all; and she would give her power over to Hyne, die peacefully, and Squall Leonhart would go on with his life, forgetting this silly girl that once told him he could become her Knight.
Knowing her power could pass to another woman, and that Squall Leonhart could become her Knight, though, left a bitter taste in her mouth. She just hoped their universe wouldn't be Meteor.
Closing the door behind him, Squall sighed, pushing away a few bangs of his hair.
Breakfast had been draining. He had suspected Rinoa wanted to talk about their duel, about him possibly becoming her Knight, and there was still a kind of dread squeezing his guts in icy hands. How ironic, for someone who liked to think of himself as brave, strong, kinda like a lion, to fear a woman.
He mulled over his impossible situation until he reached Cid's door, and he tapped on it with a heavy sigh.
"Come on in," called Cid's voice from inside the room.
"Sir," saluted Squall, and Cid chuckled.
"You are the only one here who should be called Sir, Squall."
Squall scratched his neck and moved further into the room. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards a chair.
"Of course. Edea will join us soon. She told me you asked to talk to the both of us."
Squall simply nodded, and a few minutes of thick, awkward silence passed between them, until another soft rapping at the door signaled Edea's arrival.
"Good morning, Squall," she greeted him, sitting down on the chair Cid had pulled for her. Squall observed as she turned to smile at her husband, and Cid patted slightly her shoulder. "I received your message. Is there something we can do for you?"
Squall sighed, then crossed his arms on his chest, pondering on how to breach the subject. Then he shook his head and simply asked, "Does he know?"
He was looking straight at her, and Edea could not lie. "No. This was between me and Rinoa only."
Cid looked first one and then the other, and asked, "Could you please enlighten me?"
Squall still had that intense look in his eyes, and Edea sighed, taking her husband's hand in hers. "I explained the Ritual to Rinoa, years ago. When she started... when she became old enough," she confessed.
Cid's eyes widened. "Does the King know?"
"No! The King can't know. We did it for her sake, Cid. She couldn't fall in love with someone who couldn't protect her spirit as her Knight. It would be too painful." She fell silent, squeezing her husband's hand. "The Queen doesn't know either. They can't understand."
"Does this mean... are you here because you won?" Cid asked looking into Squall's eyes, and Squall simply nodded. "This is... this is incredible," Cid continued, still reeling from the discovery. "This is wonderful!" he exclaimed suddenly, and Squall felt like he had to say something before those two got some strange ideas in their minds.
"This is why I want to speak to you, both of you. I need you to tell me the truth. The entire truth, this time," he added, purposefully adding emphasis on the word entire. He was tired of discovering things as he went, because this was his life they were playing with, and he didn't like being just an occurrence in his own story.
Edea nodded. "Yes. I think we owe you that. We'll answer your questions, all of them."
"Did you know I would become a Knight?" he started.
Edea shook her head. "No, we didn't. It's not possible to know that before the duel with a Sorceress. We didn't choose you because of that."
"Then why? Why choose me, as you put it?"
"There were some things that convinced us you would be the one to break Princess Rinoa's curse," said Cid, touching his chin. "The way you fought was very promising."
"And your personality, abrasive as it may be, could be intriguing."
"That's it?" He looked at them both, incredulously, and when he saw them exchange a look, and Edea biting her lip, he narrowed his eyes. "Please. No more secrets. Just tell me."
There was a thick, tense silence, and Edea sighed, closing her eyes. "Show him the letter," she said.
"Are you sure?"
Edea simply nodded, and Cid opened a drawer, pulling out a letter with a broken wax seal.
A blue wax seal.
The Imperial Blue Signet of Esthar.
Squall's breath caught in his throat, and he watched as Cid opened the folded letter and spread it on the desk before him. "A year and a half ago, we received this letter."
Squall took it in his hands, delicately, as if trying not to ruin the parchment. He instantly recognized his adored sister's handwriting, the slanted letters, the particular shape of her T. He hadn't seen that handwriting in years. He moved his thumb on an ink blotch on the right corner of the letter, and for a moment he felt stupefied.
"This is the reason we chose you," said Edea, and another long silence followed as he read his sister's words for the first time in fifteen years.
My Lord, My Lady,
it's with the utmost urgency that I'm writing to you, as I think we could join forces to bring peace, unity, and happiness to our loved ones.
Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Ellone Loire, and I am the older sister of the Heir to the Imperial Throne of Esthar. You may know about the tragedy that fell upon the Esthari Imperial Family, when Sorceress Adel, the Mistress of Brute Force, in her thirst for power, tried to overthrow the throne and managed to kill our beloved mother, the late Empress Raine. Since that day, our father, Emperor Laguna, has vowed to rid the world of Adel's menace; and to this day, revenge has been exacted, but my father is not the same man. Our family has been fragmented since that day, and I fear it can't be reunited anymore.
There's a particular secret about me. I have some kind of magic power, the kind that Hyne bestowed upon humanity for a greater good, but also the kind that humanity cannot understand. I can see glimpses of the future. One of those glimpses caused my mother's death-
Squall stopped reading, trying to swallow the lump that had suddenly lodged into his throat. This was a part of his life he had hoped to forget, while forging his destiny in independence and solitude. Still, reading his mother's name in the slanted letters of his sister's handwriting was something he did not expect, something that hurt him, and also something he was unbelievably grateful for. His logical mind felt the need to unravel that oxymoron.
And his father's grief, put in black ink before his eyes, was as hot and real as it felt years before, when he had sworn he would kill Adel with his very hands, and then when he sent his adored sister away, because he wanted to protect her, and then again when Squall had decided to leave, with a strong shell of hardness, sufferance, and solitude around him, cold and unfriendly as he wanted the world to see him.
He shook his head and went on reading.
One of those glimpses caused my mother's death, as I saw the four of us, happy and close, as our people cheered from the street. If only I knew my vision of happiness and peace would be followed by death and despair! Such is the way of Hyne's gifts. They are blessings, but sometimes they bring pain, and I still haven't found a way to see the blessing in my family's destruction. I was separated from my brother because of my magical gift; something my father felt was necessary to save me and my brother from Adel's schemes. My father is just a shell of the man he used to be, and my brother was only three years old when everything happened. He couldn't understand; he couldn't cope.
I apologize for this long preamble; I felt it was necessary to explain the true reason for my letter.
In the last few weeks, I've been having flashes of the future. In these visions, my brother, who's now a young man, lives in a place I don't recognize, and carries a girl, bridal style, into a Palace. Something feels out of place, because everyone is wearing heavy clothes, but there's snow melting in the surrounding fields and flowers are blooming everywhere.
I thought nothing of these visions, fearing they may bring forth more suffering for our family, and feeling the sting of what could have been. But my brother looks happy, as he hasn't been for the last fifteen years.
Lady Quistis of Dollet convinced me that maybe these glimpses of the future may hold some truth. She asked me to describe to her the girl, the place and every detail possible, and we think it may be a vision of my brother and Princess Rinoa. Lady Quistis is fairly sure this may mean that my brother will be the one to break your Princess' curse. And if there's truth in that, I want to make it possible, for my brother, for the Princess, for my father and for me, too.
I cannot flatter myself with the hope you could give some credit to the ramblings you just read. But if there's only something, in my words, that you may decide to believe, please let it be this: my brother is coming to Centra, in disguise. Let him join the forces you created for the yearly tournament, and let him take part in the tournament. Whatever happens next will depend both on my brother and Princess Rinoa.
I pray to Hyne that my vision, this time, will be truly a blessing and give happiness to all of us.
I truly believe that our fractures define who we are. My mother's death defined my father by grief; my father's grief defined my brother by solitude; my brother's solitude defined me by regret. Even knowing I may sound selfish, I don't want my family to be defined by our loss, our despair, or by all we are missing. We suffered long enough.
For once, I'd like my family to be defined by the love we still share, hidden under all the pain.
Lady Quistis will give you this letter, and explain to you everything you may need to know to decide.
As for me, I have the honor to be
Your Loyal Servant
Ellone Loire of the Esthari Empire
Squall put down his sister's letter, feeling almost void of emotion. In the chaos the message had evoked, he only knew this made everything even worse.
There was a long silence, as he gently thumbed the parchment his sister had written on, in the hope to help him find happiness. It would have been endearing if only it wasn't so damn terrifying.
He didn't want happiness with someone else. He didn't want a love that could wither, a love that could destroy him like it had destroyed his father, whose soul's scattered pieces still bled sufferance. No, he would be enough to himself, with his comforting solitude.
Edea cleared her throat, and whispered, "We can help you, Squall. We only want to do something good."
"How can you say you didn't know about me becoming a Knight? My sister wrote it, dammit!" He was seething in a controlled way, his fist closing tight, and he put the letter back on Cid's desk to avoid ruining it.
"We know how you feel," said Cid. "We went through that too, years ago."
Squall raised his eyes and looked incredulously at them both. "What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"I am Sorceress Edea, the Mistress of Nature and Healing," said Edea.
Of course. Rinoa told him, the night before, and it made sense that, as a sister in Hyne's magic, Edea had become Rinoa's mentor. That meant that Cid... "Right. The Princess told me."
"Squall, do you know the true meaning of SeeD?"
Hyne. They sure had many things they chose not to tell him, didn't they? "I don't think you ever told me, sir."
"SeeD stands for Sorceress Elite Egis Division. You are specifically trained to be Sorceress Knights."
That felt like a punch straight to his stomach. Why? He had escaped Esthar because of the suffocating atmosphere where all revolved around Adel, where the word Sorceress meant something evil, something cruel, not even a person - everything that Rinoa was not, as much as he would have liked to believe the opposite. Things would be much simpler if everything was black and white, after all.
"We didn't have much of a choice when the Princess was cursed," continued Cid. "We needed to ensure true love and also a Knight who could protect her spirit. The pull between a Sorceress and her Knight is very strong. We counted on that. When Ellone sent her letter, we just hoped she was right. You fought peculiarly. Your instinct in battle was particularly protective of your comrades. Your observation skills are stunning. Everything pointed to the fact that you could be a Knight, but we couldn't be sure. Until the duel with the Sorceress, a Knight cannot be recognized. Only his true match feels the pull."
Squall was silent, as if he was trying to digest the awful lot of information they just dumped on him. Everything he ever thought was a lie. Everything was crumbling around him.
"Squall, what... what did Rinoa tell you, exactly?" asked Edea, gently, discreetly taking Ellone's letter and giving it to her husband.
He sighed. "That I was destined to be a Knight."
She frowned. "That's all?"
"Yes. Why?" He sat up straighter, feeling there was something else. "What are you hiding from me? I need to know."
Edea shook her head. "I'm sorry Squall. This is something that you should ask Rinoa."
Squall recognized a particular finality in her tone, and closed his mouth, his lips set into a thin, tense, straight line.
"I understand we gave you a lot to digest, and you need time to digest it," said Cid. "But we did because we think it's for the greater good."
"For the Princess!"
"And for you," intervened Edea. When he scoffed, she added, "Do you really think we trained you without growing fond of you? If your answer is yes, then you are sorely mistaken."
He simply grunted, and Edea stood up and came closer to him. "You are a great fighter, Squall. The King could not choose a better Commander than you. Your personality may be abrasive, but I think there's a wonderful person under your shell. A person who deserves to be brought back to light."
Squall shook his head, and Edea sighed. "Consider your sister's visions, if you don't trust our judgment."
He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and then stood up too, looking directly into Edea's eyes. "You're speaking as if my life has already been decided, Lady Edea. I don't particularly appreciate that."
Then he looked at Cid, saluted, and bowed slightly to Edea before exiting the room.
Edea sighed, feeling her husband's hands on her shoulders, trying to relax her tense muscles. "Give him time," said Cid, moving his hands soothingly on his wife's arms. "He'll come around."
"She already feels the pull of the Bond."
"And as I said, he'll come around."
She turned into his arms and leaned her head on his chest.
She just hoped Cid was right.
The Princess' unrest wrapped around him as soon as they were together again, waiting for her parents for their meal.
She tried to strike up a conversation, but he resisted, still trying to give a semblance of order to all the things he discovered that morning. Something in Edea's words was particularly unsettling; she had told him he had to ask Rinoa, but he didn't feel like doing that. He was simply tired of being told only what others thought he should know, and, invariably, he discovered things too late. His logical mind needed order, answers, and more than anything else it needed the ability to make choices.
Choices were something he was denied almost his entire life.
After an awkward meal full of knowing smiles from the King and Queen and stolen glances between him and Rinoa, just not for the reasons her parents imagined, they moved to the library, and Queen Julia sat in a corner, with her embroidery work, in front of Rinoa's lady-in-waiting, a Trabian lady named Selphie Tilmitt. They were distant enough to be able to have a more intimate conversation, but not distant enough not to be heard. Rinoa was visibly itching to talk about their duel, and he needed answers anyway, and he vaguely wondered what she was willing to do. Maybe another night encounter in the gardens? Would Edea approve? Would she help? Could they duel again?
"Sir Leonhart," said Rinoa after some idle conversation about trifling things. "Did you ever see our loggia?"
Squall sighed; the Princess knew very well that only the Royal Family could access the loggia. Was this her way to trap him into talking? "I'm afraid not, Your Highness," he answered.
"Would you like to see it? The view on the gardens is spectacular from there. On clear days you can see the ocean in the distance."
Once again, the Princess took her ring into her hand, looking almost melancholy. She probably had never seen the ocean up close.
He hated her expression. He hated it because it made him want to wipe it from her face, and he couldn't do that because he couldn't care. There was no sense in becoming attached to someone who could be there one day and disappear the next day, and he shouldn't become attached, or even remotely interested, to a girl who only had six months left. It wasn't fair to anyone involved. Still, it saddened him to think she clearly desired the freedom to live her life, and she was restricted by her curse. Not being able to make a choice was something he could acutely understand.
"I don't think we could see the ocean today, ma'am. It's still raining."
"I'd just like some fresh air, some exercise," she insisted, and he saw in her eyes a sheer determination. He could not escape that discussion, it seemed, and he sighed again. Maybe it was for the best. Didn't he just lament the fact he was being told only the things others deemed necessary?
"If Her Majesty the Queen approves," he relented, and the Queen raised her eyes with another knowing smile. Squall felt sickened - he knew what she was thinking, and he knew letting her think it made things easier for him, but he also knew it meant she was deceiving herself about their inexistent blossoming love. And that meant she was also deceiving herself about her daughter's curse breaking. It saddened him, because he knew it meant a greater pain, and he wouldn't want to be the cause of that.
"Lady Selphie will come with you," said the Queen. "Don't stay out too long, my angel," she added, looking at her daughter, who blushed as if embarrassed by her mother's use of a term of endearment.
"I'll get my mantle," said Squall, excusing himself to have a few minutes alone. The presence of Rinoa's lady-in-waiting could complicate things; the Princess wouldn't feel comfortable enough to talk about their duel and its meaning, right? He just hoped the young lady could believe the same lie the Queen was believing, and be more inclined to let them be alone, even though she wasn't meant to.
The Princess joined him in front of the library, wearing a heavy light blue mantle with silver lacework and pure snow-white fur. With her white dress underneath, she did look like the angel her mother had dubbed her. He shook his head to push that thought away. No reflections on the Princess' beauty. Those would be dangerous.
"Shall we go?"
The Princess nodded, and Lady Selphie cleared her throat as if wanting to gain his attention. He looked inquisitively at her and she nodded her head towards the Princess, raising her arm. Was she trying to tell him something? Then the lady rolled her eyes, and said, "The grounds will probably be a little slippery for the rain. Do you need assistance, ma'am?"
Oh. Right. He tried to cover his faux pas with gallantry - sickening affected gallantry, he thought - and offered his arm to the Princess. Rinoa said nothing; she simply slipped her delicate hand into the crook of his elbow, and gave him a small, grateful smile.
"This way, sir," said the Princess, and for a few minutes the only sound was their steps, echoing in the long corridor. She used the hand in his elbow to guide him through hallways, turns, and stairs, and her hand, as small and dainty as it was, felt like lead on his arm. He felt her warmth through the fabric, and he tried to block the sensation of being so close to another human being, of being touched. It was too unnerving.
Then, the Princess turned again and on the other end of a vast, spacious room there was the loggia. Rinoa moved her hand away to open the heavy velvet red curtain covering the glass doors. When they stepped outside, Squall's breath was taken away.
The Princess was right. On clear days, the view from the loggia was certainly magnificent, if it could give him such a reaction on a rainy day.
There was a long corridor, lined on both sides by spaced columns in white marble, veined with grey. On the left side, trefoil arches were overlooking the valley stretching towards the ocean, while the right side was simpler and faced the private Royal Courtyard of the castle. Squall tried to imagine the view on a clear, sunny, summer day: the blue sky peeking through the arches; the green, flourishing valley blooming through the smaller arches of the balustrade; and in the far distance, the ocean, a breeze carrying its smell, its sound, and seagulls crying.
It made him want to see it.
"It must be wonderful in summer, here," he said without thinking, before he could stop himself.
The Princess looked taken aback. "I wouldn't know," she commented, but there was no bitterness in her voice, no anger. Just the melancholy feeling he had learned to associate with her. It seemed she was defined by her melancholy. By the things she was missing through no fault of her own. The fact she didn't look resentful for that was astonishing to Squall.
"I'm sorry," said Squall sincerely, and she nodded, accepting his apology.
"Sir Leonhart, we..." She sighed, and he watched as she moved a lock of her hair from her face, and then hid her hand under her mantle with a shiver. She went closer to the balustrade, looking at the snowy fields below, and at the rain still falling. The grey sky behind her gave her an almost painful air, as if she was imagining things she hadn't been able to see, things she probably wouldn't be able to see. "Lady Selphie," she continued, "could you please wait inside? You don't have your mantle. I don't want you to catch a chill. I promise we won't be long."
"As you wish, ma'am," nodded Selphie, and she discreetly slipped inside, letting the velvet curtain fall again to cover the door. Squall vaguely noticed he didn't hear the door closing.
"You want to talk to me," said Squall, and the Princess nodded, sighing again.
"Yes, we should talk about the duel."
"About the duel, or its outcome?" asked Squall with a faint bitterness around the edges of his voice.
"Maybe both," said the Princess, turning to look at him.
Squall involuntarily cracked his knuckles, and he saw her grimace at the noise. He watched her as her skin flushed against the frigid air, her breath fogging the air in front of her. He cleared his throat and decided there was no sense in keeping beating around the bush. "This morning, I spoke with Cid and Edea."
She nodded, turning to look at the white expanse in front of her.
"There is something Edea mentioned that I'd like to... know more about," he said, choosing his words with particular precision. He decided to skip the parts regarding his sister and her magical power.
"What is it?" she asked when he didn't continue.
"That's what I'd like to know," he said, trying to ignore the tension coiling inside his chest. "She asked me what you told me and I answered truthfully. But she was surprised. There's something else, right?"
Rinoa sighed, holding the mantle a little tighter around her body. She glanced at him sideways and then moved her eyes away. Something, in the way she acted, made him think she was ashamed.
Then she moved again, resting one hand against the balustrade, seemingly not caring about the rain wetting her dress. "Do you know the legend of Hyne, sir Leonhart?"
Squall wanted to tell her to stop calling him Sir Leonhart, but then he remembered how he insisted on being extremely formal with her. He was reaping what he sowed, apparently.
Good.
"I may have heard something," he answered.
Rinoa gave him a small smile and then raised one finger to the ceiling. He looked at her, tilting his head, failing to understand what she meant. Then, he noticed a heavily decorated wall on the other side of the loggia, and raised his eyes to see a similarly heavily, magnificently decorated ceiling.
"This is a representation of the battle between humans and Great Hyne, as recounted by Lord Vascaroon the Sage," she started. "As you can see, the throne in the sky is empty, because Hyne is fighting the humans who are besieging him. The perspective of that part is so daring, don't you think? It takes my breath away every time."
She fell silent, and Squall swallowed, moving his eyes slowly toward her. She was still watching the ceiling, the almost fearless perspective of the artist soaring higher and higher, over Hyne's throne, over clouds so blue and soft, over bodies recoiling in fear or daring death. The wonder on her face was almost palpable.
"It's magnificent," he admitted.
"Glorious," she added, lowering her eyes to watch him. Her intense gaze was unnerving. Then, she pulled an arm out of her mantle and pointed with her finger again. "See that human figure down there? That is the Great Hyne, cutting his body to give half of it to humans, as a peace offering. The woman near him is the first Sorceress, accepting the magical power hidden in Hyne's body. And the man taking her hand, the one with the green robe, is her sir Knight."
She lowered her arm and turned slightly towards the heavily decorated wall Squall had noticed. "In that painting, over there, there's a representation of the wedding of the First Sorceress and the First Knight."
She moved closer to the painting, and Squall followed. She was silent, and he followed her lead, waiting for her to tell him what she was still hiding. It was clear the same artist who had decorated the ceiling had produced the painting, too; the man with the green robe was in the painting too, holding his Sorceress' hand as a light shone from above. The perspective was not so daring, and the scene was darker, but that central light highlighted the hands in the center of the painting. There was something calming, in it, and something unsettling too, something he couldn't pinpoint.
"Hyne's power got fragmented, after that. More and more women were accepting it, and humans fought over it until Lord Vascaroon the Sage put a stop to that folly. But there's something only Sorceresses know. Only Knights know. And that's what I didn't tell you, last night."
She turned to look at him, and he turned too, watching her small, delicate, all blue and white and silver frame against the wet sky. "There's only one true match for a Sorceress' power, sir Leonhart."
"You'll have to be a bit clearer on that, Your Highness," he said, narrowing his eyes, a little more forcefully than he intended. He was done with her little games. He wanted answers, and he wanted them sooner rather than later.
"A Sorceress can have only one Knight, sir. That's what only one true match means in this context. Since her powers pass on to another Chosen One upon her death, Knights can have more than one Sorceress. This is not possible for a Sorceress. When her true match dies, she spirals until she unleashes her madness upon humanity. This is what happened with Sorceress Adel."
Squall tensed visibly upon hearing that name, and Rinoa, misinterpreting the reason for his tension, lowered her eyes, biting her lip and holding the edge of her mantle around her body. "I am truly sorry, sir Leonhart. I should have been more... transparent, with you. But last night you looked so distraught when I told you were destined to become a Knight that... I thought it would be better to let you digest that part, first."
"So thoughtful of you," he remarked, bitterly, and she recoiled, taking a couple of steps back.
"I know it's enormous," she began, not noticing how he was closing his fists. Thankfully, he was wearing black leather gloves, so she couldn't see how his knuckles had become white. "And I understand you may feel overwhelmed. I am sorry. Maybe I should have waited." She turned slowly towards the balustrade, looking at the ocean, in the far distance, the sky turning grayer and grayer, the rain becoming heavier and heavier. "It's just... I know it doesn't make sense, but I needed to know, sir Leonhart."
There was a long, thick, and tense silence, and only Squall's heavy breathing was audible. Rinoa sighed, turning again to look at him. "I am truly sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disrupt-"
"But you needed to, right?"
The cutting edge in his voice made her move abruptly to look him in the eyes. "Yes. I needed to. For myself, and for you, too."
"I don't need you to worry about me. I'm fine. Just leave me out of your little games. I don't care about them." He was looking at her through narrowed eyes, seething in anger at the way she had blatantly ignored what he may have wanted. The way she hadn't given him a choice.
Nevertheless, the way she recoiled at his words was not satisfying as he had imagined.
"They're not games, sir Leonhart. This is something I've had to do all my life because I didn't want to play with other people's feelings." He scoffed, and she swallowed audibly. When she talked again, her voice was strained, as if she was trying to talk around a lump in her throat. "Why don't you believe me?" she asked, drying in angry vexation a treasonous tear that had spilled on her cheek.
"Because it's all about you, Princess." He moved his arm to point at the painting, at the ceiling in all its glorious, magnificent opulence. "You need this and you don't care what other people may feel about that. It's all about what you want, and what you need. Did you ever stop to consider maybe I don't want to be involved in this Knight thing you need?"
She swallowed again, breathing heavily, tears spilling freely now. He hated that too, and he hated the way her throat moved as she cried, and how he felt he could almost hear the rapid fluttering of her heart. He hated the brave facade she putting on for his sake, and he hated realizing she was doing it for his sake. She didn't want to trouble him. She wasn't trying to guilt him.
It would have been much, much easier if she did.
He steeled himself even more against all that.
"I don't understand," she said, weakly, and he scoffed yet again.
"Of course, you don't. You think everything revolves around you, because you're the Princess of this castle, always revered, always getting what you want. And you want a Knight, now, and it doesn't matter whether your suitor wants that too. Am I right, Your Highness?"
Her eyes blazed. The fury in them made them darker, much more alluring, and he felt thankful when she closed them, breathing deeply, to calm down. When she opened them again, they were narrow, almost cold. "Do you truly think this is easy for me, just because I'm the Princess?"
"It is certainly easier, for you. It seems you can't see anything past your own needs. You admitted it yourself. Even this conversation is happening because of your needs. Mine weren't even contemplated."
"That's not..." She turned abruptly, shaking her head, so he couldn't see her face. He noticed her rigid stance, her tense neck, her tight fists. "I appreciate your sincerity, sir Leonhart," she started, with a sharp voice that felt so cutting and so wrong. "Rest assured I won't be a burden to you anymore."
She fumbled with her mantle and then she walked back to the door they came from. "I'm going back to my music room, sir. Please consider yourself free from your duties to me, today." She stopped, her hand already on the deep red curtain. "I am truly sorry, Squall." Her head hung low, and the way his name rolled off her lips felt defeated, and Squall forgot his anger for a moment. She may have not considered his needs, but he hadn't considered her difficulties, either. Before he could say anything, though, she slipped through the door and the curtain fell back in place.
He stayed there, listening to the rain falling harder and harder, in that crazy weather Princess Rinoa had to live in, an eternal winter she couldn't escape from. A rustling of fabric signaled to him that someone had come out on the loggia, and he turned, pretty sure it was Rinoa.
It was Lady Selphie.
"My lady," he said, stiffly.
"I didn't mean to overhear," she started, taking a few steps towards him. "I just wanted to tell you that you've been too harsh."
He said nothing, crossing his arms on his chest and watching the vast expanse of the snowy field below them, through the small columns of the balustrade.
"You don't understand how hard it is for her. Nobody really does. We can move if we want to. She has to stay here. She tried to cross over the limit, once. It's like a magic field hitting her back. She was sick for days." She fell silent; if she was waiting for an answer, she didn't get it, though, and she pressed on. "Her actions may look selfish, but they are not. Just... don't be so harsh on her. She doesn't deserve it."
She turned without waiting for an answer, this time, and stepped back into the castle, leaving him alone out on the loggia.
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, watching again the fearless perspective of an artist who had dared to fly with his mind close to the sun, close to the deities, close to blue skies and pure white clouds, depicting what the human mind could only imagine. Rinoa was as daring and fearless, as intriguing and magnificent, as beautiful and glorious.
And of that, he was terrified.
Edea was going to the library to keep the Queen company, when she saw Rinoa entering the music room in a rustle of fabric and sobs. She quickly entered the room too, figuring she could give the Queen some excuse or other later, and went to console her young pupil, who had thrown herself on the little couch.
"Rinoa, dear," she started, caressing lightly the girl's hair. "What happened?"
"I was wrong, Edea, I was so wrong," sobbed the Princess. Edea sat down next to her and kept caressing her hair as she cried. "I should have listened to you. It's just... I just..."
"You felt the pull of the Bond," said Edea, trying to console her and calm her down. "There's nothing wrong with it, my dear."
"But he doesn't f-feel it. He d-doesn't want it," continued Rinoa, hiccupping in between words. "He told me so. Oh, I was so wrong!"
"How about you calm down a little and then you tell me what happened?"
Edea waited patiently until the onslaught of tears subsided, and then Rinoa, still sniffling, started talking again. "I felt we should talk about the duel." She sighed, drying a stray tear with her hand. "I asked him if he ever saw the loggia, and of course, he said he didn't. I knew it was a good excuse. My mother fell for it. She asked Lady Selphie to come with us and let us go."
"You shouldn't play your mother like that," Edea gently scolded, and Rinoa shrugged.
"When we reached the loggia, I asked Selphie to leave us alone and he immediately understood I wanted to talk. He told me he had seen you and your husband this morning, and that there was something he wanted to know more about."
"You didn't tell him everything last night, did you?"
"He looked so conflicted. I didn't want to weigh down his burden even more. I just... I thought it would be easier, for him. He looked... wary of Sorceresses."
Edea nodded. "He has lots of prejudice and ignorance about Sorceresses. We can't fault him for that. He comes from Esthar."
Rinoa closed her eyes, remembering how Squall had tensed at the mention of Sorceress Adel's name. She had completely misunderstood, and the more she thought about their conversation, the more she felt in the wrong. "I didn't know."
There was a long silence after that, the only sound being the rain still falling outside the castle, pattering against the windows, and Rinoa's heavy breathing. Edea waited patiently until the young woman felt ready to continue.
"I told him everything. I told him what happens when a Sorceress loses her Knight. I told him about the one true match."
Another silence.
"He told me I was selfish to do that and maybe I should consider the fact he doesn't want to have anything to do with being my Knight."
Edea's eyes widened, and she was glad Rinoa was not looking at her, her gaze lost in the distance, in her memories, in her hurt.
"And he is right, Edea."
"What? No!"
"Yes!" Rinoa moved to sit up on the little couch. "If he doesn't want to be my Knight, he shouldn't have to. It is his choice, Edea. My curse is my curse only. He is free. Let him be free. I don't want a Knight out of obligation, because of some kind of destiny. I want a Knight out of love. I won't have it any other way."
"But Rinoa-"
"You were the one who told me it should be like that!" she cried in desperation. "This is why we did what we did all these years." The hurt, so clear in Rinoa's voice, wounded something inside of Edea too. Her pupil, her adored baby Sorceress, should have been happy, not trying to navigate through a curse cutting her life short at only seventeen.
"It was to spare your feelings, Rinoa! So you wouldn't fall in love with someone who couldn't protect your spirit!"
"And I did it to spare their feelings too, so they wouldn't fall in love with someone who couldn't love them back." Then she lowered her eyes, trembling, and tears spilled again on her cheeks. "And yet, he thinks I was selfish, and he's right. I didn't think about what he may want. I didn't give him a choice. I thought..." She shook her head, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. "I thought it was the right thing to do, but I was so wrong. I just needed to know because he is so..." Her voice trailed off, and she felt a fastidious warmth creeping on her neck, on her face, settling on her cheeks like fire.
"So...?" gently encouraged Edea, when Rinoa didn't elaborate further.
"So different from anyone else," the Princess concluded, standing up and starting to pace down the room. "It's just - he was respectful when we danced, and he fought valiantly and fairly, and last night I got this - this feeling inside of me that I can't shake off and..." Edea let her be, watching her as she paced to the window and back again, back and forth, back and forth, in a rustle of fabric, of nervous energy, of almost crackling magic. "Maybe it wasn't a good idea to send him the message. Maybe it was better not knowing he is my Knight. I wouldn't feel this way, he would be just another winner and-" She stopped abruptly, looking Edea in her eyes. "What is it?"
"You felt the pull of the Bond," said the older Sorceress, standing up to take Rinoa's hands in her. "Whatever you're feeling is normal, my dear. You would have felt it anyway, because the magic craves surrender when it finds its one true match. Listen," she said, squeezing her hands, and forcing Rinoa to look into her eyes. "It happened just last night. He probably needs time because of the ideas he has about Sorceresses. You probably should have waited to talk to him, I'll concede that. But that's all. You both needed the duel. He may not realize it, but he's feeling the pull of the Bond, too. He's resisting it because of his prejudice. Just give him time. Cid thinks he'll come around and I agree."
There was yet another long silence, and then Rinoa sighed heavily, as if all the air had left her lungs. "I'm scared," she admitted, meekly, in a small, ashamed voice that squeezed Edea's heart.
"Oh, dear. Don't be," she said, pulling the girl into a hug. "I'll be there to guide you. Trust your magic. Trust yourself. Give space to Squall, and to yourself."
Rinoa sighed. "Please, don't tell anything to my mother."
"You don't need to ask that, dear," promised Edea. "There's no need to make her worry about your powers, too. Now, now, no more tears. You did well. You weren't selfish and I'm sure Squall will understand why you had to do what you did."
Rinoa looked away, locking her gaze on the steady rain outside the windows. She bit her lip, and pulled her hands away from Edea's. "Mother will worry anyway. I told Sir Leonhart he can consider himself free from his duties, today."
Edea smiled. "I think he'll come looking for you soon enough. How about I call Queen Julia and Lady Selphie, now? We can play the harpsichord and distract ourselves. I'm sure sir Leonhart will join us, too."
Rinoa nodded, and turned without a word, wrapping her arms around herself.
Edea watched as the girl sat at the harpsichord and started shuffling the scores to find a piece she fancied enough to play, even though her mind was distracted to the point she didn't realize Lady Selphie had entered the room.
It was time to talk with Squall Leonhart.
Squall was out of the library door when Edea reached the room, and he looked at her as if she was a savior ready to give him a proper excuse for Rinoa's absence.
Edea smiled. "I know what happened. Rinoa told me."
She thought he was blushing, but he cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the floor. "I was too harsh on her. But this was a difficult day, for me." He fell silent and crossed his arms on his chest, briefly looking at her. "I know this is not justification enough for how I acted. I hope the Princess will accept my apologies."
"You both need time, and I'm here to give you that. Do you want to spend the afternoon on your own, Squall? I'll tell the Queen you're not feeling well. She'll be none the wiser."
Squall shook his head. "The Queen already has... precise ideas about me and her daughter. I don't want to feed them more than necessary."
It was an interesting choice of words, and Edea looked at him inquisitively, but he didn't elaborate further and she didn't ask. "Fair enough," she said, and motioned for him to follow her inside the room.
"Oh, Lady Edea," said the Queen, raising to her feet and extending her hand for Edea to kiss it.
"Your Grace," answered Edea, bowing. "We came here to invite you to the music room. Sir Leonhart has immensely appreciated your loggia, and when I met them on the way back they were conversing about music. I think he will appreciate your daughter's musical talent at the harpsichord."
The Queen gave them both a warm smile. "Of course. I will also let him know you were the one to notice and nurture that talent, Lady Edea."
"Thank you, Your Grace. I just need a moment with Sir Leonhart; my husband asked me to relay a message. We'll join you in a few minutes."
The Queen motioned for her lady-in-waiting to follow her, and they both exited the room, leaving Squall and Edea alone.
"Do you truly have a message for me, my lady?" asked Squall.
Edea shook her head. "There are a few things I think you should know, Squall. I promise there will be no more secrets after that."
He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Edea looked into his intense, stormy eyes, matching his gaze with equal intensity. "I understand you think Rinoa's actions are selfish. They may be, to a certain extent. But they are truly not. Allow me to tell you her story, and you'll understand why she did all those things."
He didn't say anything, and Edea continued. "I think the Princess told you how she came to be a Sorceress."
"Her curse," said Squall, and Edea nodded.
"Yes. The magic Ultimecia used to cast the curse on her seeped into her bones and blood, and made her a Sorceress. The magic I used on her to alleviate the pain of her destiny gave her even more power. This power grew with her, to the point she has been deemed the Mistress of Pure Magic. This kind of power has never had a true match in the past, because it was born and it grew with Princess Rinoa. We had no idea how her Knight would be. We had no idea if he even existed."
Squall inhaled deeply, but said nothing.
"The curse limits her time on this earth, but it also limits her space. She can't move out of certain boundaries around the castle. There are some kinds of magic barriers that push her back. Whenever she tries to cross those boundaries, she is pushed back with such force she feels sick for days. And she often tries to cross them."
He could understand that. Squall felt a new comprehension of the Princess washing over him.
"This life is suffocating, for her. She can't leave the castle. Her social life is inside these walls. She often can't go out because the weather seems to react to her presence. She once told me she feels like there's hate in the air around her, whenever she is out of the castle. And she can't do anything about that. She tried, oh, believe me, she tried. She has tried to force the boundaries with her powers. But she can't use them too much because she may descend into madness. I... know this is a difficult conversation for you, Squall."
Squall nodded, appreciating the sentiment. There truly wasn't anything Edea could do about the past, and it wasn't her fault anyway.
"The mere idea of having to depend on someone else to change her situation is unbearable, for her. Rinoa has a... very indipendent spirit. But she feels like she's in chains."
"Understandable," commented Squall, still watching her with an intense, inscrutable gaze.
Edea moved towards one of the immense shelves, filled to the ceiling with books. "Her curse has affected many of us. She, of course, is the one who suffers the most. But her parents, too. She has been pampered all her life, because she was a very wanted baby and her life was immediately cut short because... we really don't know why. Sorceress Ultimecia, the Mistress of Time and Space, had decided she wanted to play with her life. And she did, because she wanted to and she could."
She turned to look at him again. "All the books are here to distract Rinoa from the fact she is condemned to stay here. Her only true outlet is music. Music and reading. She has no meaningful friendships because all the young ladies of her age can't stand to live here all year long. She sometimes has a friend, like Lady Selphie, but as you can understand, it's not enough. The way her parents treat her has skewed her perception of love. She has never been able to make a choice on her own. Her decisions are not truly hers, and even when they are, she second-guesses herself and frets over the consequences. She feels she's not allowed to make mistakes, and she's scared of important changes."
There was a long silence, and Edea moved closer to Squall again. "And finding out there's one true match for her is an incredibly important change."
Squall said nothing and lowered his eyes to the floor.
"Finding her one true match has given her hope. This is... not something she is used to, I'm afraid."
Squall softly shook his head. "I am truly sorry, Lady Edea, but I don't think I'm the ideal candidate for something like that." Even as he said it, though, he was thinking about all the what ifs, all the could be, his sister's visions, the pull he felt when he was with Rinoa. There was some truth in all that happened, something he still wasn't grasping, and he felt the need to sit down, ponder over everything he had come to know, and then build his barriers again. He would not falter. He couldn't.
"You are confused, Squall," said Edea. "Give yourself time. I'm not asking you for anything... I only ask you to please consider the Princess' situation. She had to do what she did. For her sake, and for your sake, too."
Those were the same words Rinoa had used, and Squall paused, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something and then closing it again. He shook his head again. "It truly doesn't feel like it was done for my sake, though," he said, eventually, and Edea made a sound. "What is it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Rinoa is a powerful Sorceress. You felt her raw power."
And it was electrifying, Squall thought.
"Yet, she doesn't want a Knight out of obligation. She dueled with her suitors to prove to herself, and especially to them, that they couldn't become her Knight, and therefore they couldn't become her husband. It would mean nothing. And right now, she is giving you the same respect, Squall. She is as confused as you are. But she's not selfish." There was another silence, and Edea sighed. "We should go, now. The Queen will wonder what's keeping us."
She exited the library and Squall followed, still mulling over everything that had transpired. He was still not fully convinced there were no more secrets, and he was dead tired and just wished the day was over so he could retire to his apartments and thinks. But when they reached the music room, he heard a melody and he felt intrigued.
They entered the room and he immediately noticed Princess Rinoa at the harpsichord. She was playing with her eyes closed, completely enthralled by the music. Her fingers moved on the keyboard of the instrument, following a rapid melody that immediately spoke to him. It was fast enough to draw him in, and emotionally charged in a way he never expected in music. It was like she was funneling her turmoil into the notes, and it felt intense, almost like a spring storm gathering, getting ready to release its tremendous amount of energy on earth. It felt almost like Quetzalcoatl getting ready to strike. Then the notes soared higher and higher and he felt his breath taken away when he realized the melody felt liberating, and freeing, like pressure releasing. Edea said something he didn't quite understand, and he realized he was probably being rude, but he couldn't take his eyes off the Princess and her music. He sat down, absently, watching Rinoa's fingers moving, creating a hypnotic harmony, and the movements of her upper body as she applied pressure on the keys were almost sensual. The energy of the music had given a rosy color to her cheeks, and an unruly lock of midnight black hair had escaped the confines of her pearl hair comb. Her elegant neck looked even more alluring now, and he found himself swallowing.
In a moment the music became slower, the Princess' movements were almost tender and gentle on the keyboard, but the intensity never diminished. He had never heard something like that, so cleansing, so invigorating, so mesmerizing. There was nothing tranquil in what Princess Rinoa was playing, yet he had never felt more at peace.
Then she opened her eyes and turned, looking at him, and she seemed surprised to see him. She didn't miss a beat, though, and the look she gave him was almost challenging. He realized he may have been staring a little too openly and tried to move his eyes away, as she turned to look again at the score of her piece. The melody was almost narrowing his vision, now that the Princess wasn't distracting him, evoking images in his mind of closed spaces, dead ends, dark alleys, turmoil, and unrest. He thought back to what Edea told him - Rinoa's limited time, her limited space, the weather that seemed to react to her presence, the magic barrier pushing back against her attempts to set herself free. How she had to depend on someone else, and how she hated it.
Oh, he could understand that. He could understand so much.
The music was rising again to shrill notes, and Rinoa created a few more curls of melody with her fingers. And then, it was done.
And it felt like a storm had ended and the air was now cleared, purified, a weight finally lifted, pressure released.
Edea clapped a little and the women in the room followed, and he joined, looking pointedly at the Princess when she turned and accepted the applause with rosy cheeks and a glint in her eyes. She looked at him too, and he nodded.
She nodded too, and Squall felt something was resolved between the two of them.
Author's note: thanks for reading! This has been beta-read with Grammarly, so please feel free to point out mistakes.
I used some references for this chapter, particularly the Loggia Veneziana of the Buonconsiglio Castle in Trento (Italy), whose ceiling in this story is decorated as the "Cupola" of Sala dei Giganti, and the heavily decorated wall Squall notices is the central square in the ceiling of Sala di Amore e Psiche, representing the wedding of Cupid and Psyche, both in Palazzo Te of Mantua (Italy). Hyne's and Vascaroon's legends can be found on the Final Fantasy Wikia. I also posted a playlist for this story on my Tumblr, you can find it on Spotify if you search "The winter rose".
I hope this chapter was worth waiting so long for. I'm sorry for that and I promise I'll do better.