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The brass tray was rather heavy, filled to the brim of delightful treats and dinners. Rose was getting familiar with all of the people on the boat, not that she had made any friends yet. Lamont was preoccupied with the duties with the other lords while Rose was preoccupied with the duties of making sure everyone on the boat was fed and cared for. Both seemed to be quite tiring, no? There weren't any other maids or butlers besides her and that intimidating butler from Fuccino... Still, the maid braided her hair and got to work like usual. Lamont's room was last, and by the time she got to the door, her hair was the slightest bit dishevelled, small baby hairs protruding out the sides.


Rose wasn't as nervous about visiting him. Lamont was kind, and was never rude or unrefined. Professional and empathetic, Rosalia looked up to him. She had idolized him to the point that Rose was working even with an injured leg. It was just a mercenary, the maiden told herself. The wound hadn't settled in yet. As the hours gradually passed by, the more her left leg felt like she was stepping on broken glass with every step. Her limp was even more apparent in her walk as she quietly knocked on his door, tray of food and remedies in hand. "My lord? You haven't had your supper yet. The tea is still rather warm..." Rose chirped through the door.




Lamont hummed a tune as he wrote within his journal, a simple documentation of who he talked with today, how things went with his meetings, if the tea was to his or his partner's liking, etc etc. It was a long ride aboard this ship and he had many things to do when he gets off it as well, in truth, due to his earlier chats with Diana, he felt this mission was going to go swimmingly enough, if they kept the oneup-manship to a minimum that is.


His eyes rose to the door when Rosa called in, ah, the woman of the hour it seems, hopefully she did not bring to big of a plate this time. "Come in, come in." he called to her in a slightly playful tone, he was in a good mood today, perhaps a small snack will enhance it! Not to mention Rosa herself wasn't a darling, such an attentive listener, and always a pleasure to have around.





"I look forward to supper I shall admit, I am positively famished. nothing like talking for hours to work up a ravenous appetite I should say!'




"Come in, come in." Lamont called to her in a slightly playful tone. "I look forward to supper I shall admit, I am positively famished. nothing like talking for hours to work up a ravenous appetite I should say!" Rosalia smiled to herself, it was barely a large grin, but an appreciative one. "Thank you, my Lord. I hope I do not disappoint today!" She gently opened the door, barely making a sound. It was a rather late hour and the maiden didn't want to disrupt anyone's slumber. Well, at least not on purpose. As the door opened, she had suddenly found herself on the ground, with broken teacups and wet leaves. The croissants were salvageable, and so was the rest of the dinner, though delicious sauces and seasonings spilled all over the floor. Rose was never this clumsy, especially not in front of the lord!


Oh god, no, please don't cry. The petite woman bit her lip in an attempt to calm herself. Pain surged through her slim body and the culprit was that mercenary! "O-Oh! I'm very sorry, I shall clean this up..." Rose said rather glumly. She took out a rag from her pocket and wiped down some of the tea. Rose had attempted to pick herself up. Although, succeeding in the endeavour, it was quite apparent in her face that Lamont's loyal maid was in pain, the leg she had received the attack shaking. "Please forgive me f-for the inconvenience. I-I'm dreadfully sorry!" Rose apologized countless times, her delicate features flushing pink and avoiding eye contact.




"Rosa-!" Lamont called to her when she fell, surprise filled his eyes as she stumbled to the floor, this was rare for the woman, normally she only stumbled and tripped in battle! But this... the poor girl... She was trying so hard not to cry. No, he must not let this stand, he must comfort the poor girl at once, he is the vicar of Palenia and he is a kind man, without and within.


"There there Rosalia my dear, it is alright. Come place the platter on the table, sit and gather yourself my dear. I am not angry at all, don't you worry." he had quickly walked over to help her into the seat across from him, the leg wound becoming more apparent, but he let it slid for the slight moment, he needed her sitting and calmed. Why did she not simply say she was hurt before? Does she truly think i would force her to work with such a injury? is... does she fear me?


These thoughts ran through his mind as he guided his maid to the seat, worry dancing across his features. "Are you feeling alright? not sick at all?" he fawned over the girl, his eyes filled with slight tears over seeing what may be his closest companion in pain. She had been with him for years, a stunning example of a maid, this happening is just unheard of!


If any of those other lords had hurt her...


They would know true hell.




"I-I'm fine..." The maiden said quietly. Thankful from being helped up by Lamont, she was able to place the entire tray onto the table using her hidden maid's strength. Sniffling, Rose unintentionally looked up at him with wide emerald eyes, much like a small puppy. "You're... You're not angry, my Lord?" She asked, lifting her skirt up in order to adjust to sitting on a chair and revealing bloodied bandages on her leg for just a short split-second. Rose winced, taking in a sharp breath. Soon, her wound was relieved rather quickly after sitting down. She hadn't the chance to sit or rest for the entire day. It was the night before landing and the maiden had been working twice as hard to feed and tend to the entire assembly. Normally it wasn't just her, the Vicar had dozens of other maids... Rose felt a bit homesick. The other maids were so delightful~ I wonder how they're doing now...


"Yes, my Lord." Rose felt her leg stung. The brunette tried her best to muster a kind smile. "I am feeling much better, thank you..." Rosalia got out a silk handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away her tears. "I'm not sick, seasickness isn't contagious. But it was that mercenary..." The emerald eyed maid started her story. "Do you remember when you sent me and another maid, Gracie, I think, to the market to get some groceries? Well, a-a random mercenary came from behind and just a-attacked me! I didn't want to hurt him, but all I had were my gauntlets at the time." Another sniffle from the gentle girl. "Once he made the cut to my leg, I-I had to attack him back! He d-didn't know that I had on my fists... so he ran away!" Rose sobbed to herself, nothing too intense, but it was enough to make the strongest of men cry, even just a little bit. "I-I'm sorry, my Lord! I didn't want you to know that I-I had hurt someone.."




...Gods what had happened to her? He thought this for a moment as she began to explain herself, looked exceedingly worried about her as she explained her and Gracie were attacked. Why would that mercenary have any reason to attack her? And why not Gracie?


Wait..


Gracie...


Isn't she the one he had heard had attempted to steal a lock of his hair? He tried to keep that incident quiet, a misunderstanding he thought at first... hmm... Rosa is his favorite maid, that much is known easily enough... did she attempt to... She was also very aggressive on insisting she'd be chosen for this voyage...


...


Best he hear more on Gracie from her later... after he looks at her injury.


"Now now Rosa, all that matters is that you are safe, i would not think any less of you for retaliating against a ruffian like that, I dare say you might've saved his life in a way, nobody harms my dear friends and gets away with it i assure you of that." he smiled to her, small tears lining one of his eyes from simply seeing her cry... gods why was she so adorable.


Like seeing a sad puppy, with a hurt leg, walking with a limp, in the rain, whimpering helplessly, as people walk by not ever paying it attention, with a sign nearby that says "free to a good home."


...


He sighed and relented in his small urge, patting her on the he- shoulder with a knowing nod. "I am so very sorry for working you so hard all day my dear, had I known i'd throw myself over the side of this boat before i'd make you work. You rest for now, consider that an order if you insist on otherwise, we shall have some tea and sample your wonderful treats. It is the least I can do, besides, we have not sat and chatted for so long Rosalia, we have much to talk about."




The maid took deep breaths in and out. "Thank you, my Lord, for understanding, your smile comforts me greatly." Rose said airily, her smile was small, yet greatly appreciative. "I'm very grateful I got to be on this journey with you..." She began. "Gracie seemed so adamant to go, but her prowess with her claws always scared me." Gracie, the rival maid that never seemed to shut up. Sure, she was kind, but a little overwhelming to most. Her blonde ringlets and busty chest would make any man or woman faint, Rose included. Rose always seemed to sense the discomfort on Lamont's face whenever they had interacted, but the petite brunette only smiled at her politely even though most of the time, they were returned with glares. Jealous glares once she had left the room. It scared her that perhaps Gracie might sneak into her chamber one day and poison her.


Sighing, Rosa wiped away some more of her tears. "It's alright, my Lord. I was simply fulfilling a duty... It would be foolish of me to disobey the vow of service." The maid decided to obey the "order" and rest. "I beg of you against throwing yourself over the side of the Blue Rose... Ocean waters just wouldn't suit you~" She pleasantly giggled at her own comforting joke. Now, the maid was finally back to being herself. "The kind butler of Fuccino has taught me some of his recipes. Tell me... would you like to try the cookies or the meringues? As you tell me about your day, my Lord!" The brunette lifted the small teapot and poured the tea for the two of them.




"The meringues if you would be so kind, I still swear you are trying to fatten me up, this trip to Satrella will be a boon for my waistline." he chuckled with a slight bit of teasing towards his maid, she was a sweet girl, with a skill with sweets as well... That much he was certain about no doubt.


"Indeed, Gracie was always the more... battle ready of my maids, she never beat you in the kitchen though my dear of that I am most certain." he chuckled once more as his greedy fingers went for another meringue. His thoughts went back to Gracie are her... peculiar style of business, always so... close... always between him and any "threats" she'd see, which was many might he say... and most often feminine.


"Hopefully, by the end of this visit you shall have seen no battle what so ever, you shall dazzle and amaze in foreign kitchens and make all the lords stare in jealousy as I indeed, have the greatest maid ever to exist." he praised the young woman as readily as breathing, she needed it... that much he knew.


"My day has been well, a small chat here and there, a pray at mid day, the usual of course, I finally had time to read that book that people back home are talking about... It was quite the interesting read might I say." he chuckled with the slightest blush... for a religiously centered nation... they certainly liked their smut it seems.




It was nice to know the Vicar himself preferred Rosa over the scariest maid in all of Palenia. Without leaving her seat, she passed Lamont the pretty little plate of sweets. Without saying much, Rosa just smiled as she watched his face deeply enjoying her cooking and listening to him talk. Who would really need anything else like gold or fame when you got to see someone you cared about enjoy a good meal? The maid sat politely with her hands in her lap. Rose blushed and quietly stuttered incoherently, as she normally did whenever someone complimented her. "My Lord, thank you very much! Cooking for people makes me happy~" She replied softly.


Rosalia really hoped Lamont wasn't lying when she said that. The maid now had visible concern on her face. Seeing a battle? She sighed. "My Lord, I don't want to see you hurt, nor do I want to see anyone hurt, for the matter. Although, I imagine Satrellian food must be exquisite! I can barely contain my excitement for the new spices or recipes..." Her voice trailed off. I wonder what my Lord would like... she wondered. "I only do my duties~ Oh no... have you been reading those books? I've heard of them in hushed voices, though I never found the courage to read one... Would you recommend it, my Lord? I assume that if you like it, maybe I will as well!"




"Ah, i see you are as excited as I am. We certainly will be seeing quite a number of dishes by the end of our travels here." he nodded enthusiastically, each country back home had it's specialty in regards to cookery, Palenia had it's baked goods, and Rosa was a testament to that fact.


Hopefully she will test her had on many a new recipe as they went. "As for the novel... Sure, you can borrow my copy here, I had just finished it, it's abit of a light read, and do be careful of who sees you reading it ohohohoho~!" he warned slightly before he handed over the novel, the cover fresh but seems to show the book has been read recently.


Very recently.




The maiden blushed as the Vicar handed her the book. The cover looked raunchy, and made her feel as if she was trespassing on something private. Nonetheless, if reading the book made Lamont happy, then she would do so. Besides, how bad could it be? "Thank you, my Lord. I do hope I'll enjoy it as much as you have..." Smiling, Rosa checked the clock. "Oh dear... it's getting late, and I still haven't completed all of the cleaning for today! Luckily, my leg seems to be feeling much better and I think I'm confident enough to walk back to my room." She got up, bringing all of her supplies with her. "Goodnight, my Lord, I look forward to seeing you in the morning~" Rosa gently closed the door and dragged the tray away with the novel in her hands.

After a rough training session, the maiden plopped down onto the grass and decided to relax under a nearby tree. Rough was a total understatement, all she did was trip over herself as she watched true "professionals" duke it out. Singing herself a lovely tune, she made herself a small fire and huddled around it for warmth. It was a tragedy that her light staff was lost, but the homely atmosphere around the flames made up for it. Now, she searched through what the other maids liked to call, her "Infinity Apron" to pull out some spare cookies wrapped in cloth.


Munching silently, she looked around. Everyone else in the Assembly or the Resistance seemed to be distracted with their own matters. It seemed to be important as people seemed to leave her alone. Rosa feared that she would be of a distraction to her Lord Lamont Basilo, after the wound and now the serious political tension going on in this new continent... She couldn't bear to bother him anymore! At this rate, her small body curled up into a ball as something fell out of her apron pockets.


"The Kiss of Fire: A Sage's Tale of Newfound Passion..." It was the first time Rosa had really looked at the cover. It contained a young woman with her back facing away while in the nude in the direction of a bed. Around her were tomes, old scrolls and spellbooks. There was a faint shadow where the author's name was supposed to be. He was muscular, wearing form fitting clothing as a small flame came from several lamps. Rosa didn't pay any mind to it, however, something about the novel seemed to make her stomach churn. Shrugging the feeling off, she opened the book and began to read.


It was surprisingly light read, to her surprise. The novel started off mild enough, it was a tale of a respected sage that had dedicated himself to her studies to the point where she was romantically and socially inept, rejecting suitors left and right, even going as far as shutting herself off from the rest of the country. That was, when a stray Berserker had came to wreck havoc on her tower. A very handsome berserker... Upon gazing at each other after meeting, things had gotten intense. By intense, the "good" part was coming up soon.


Rosa gasped, though not at the smutty part just yet. The berserker had tore up the first floor of the tower looking for gold and in a violent tirade, ran up the swirling staircase until he had reached her personal chambers. The good part soon ensued as he found the mage asleep soundly...

---






"By the goddess what have I done." the man asked himself as he desperately searched for his maid, the woman whom he hoped beyond hope didn't start reading that book. It took a few days for him to even remember what those pages contained, the... things! That barbarian did to that woman... And what she did to him in revenge was no better... and no less... interesting... Could one even do that with a candle or was the author simply having a fantasy? And the pineapple! Wherever did he get that idea! And that tapestry that was mentioned would be ruined forever more...


AH!


There she is!


Now it was a simple task of asking for the book back, perhaps... Yes he will say he was borrowing it himself and simply forgot before he lent it to her. the original owner wishing for it back. yes, that would work, and in return he would give her this book to read, "The little happy hoppy bunny goes for a stroll." certainly that would be better for her innocence... Something that is rare enough these days.


"Ah, Rosa dear, I need to speak to you-"


the man froze once he saw it, the novel, the filthy filthy thing! it was in her hands, being read by those emeralds she calls eyes. By the goddess Lamont do something! The man's climbing the tower! Rushing to the sage's room! HES POUNDING AGAINST THE DOOR, AGAIN AND AGAIN! TRYING TO PUSH THROUGH WITH HIS STRONG MUSCULAR ARMS!


With two fingers he clasped the book shut, closing the pages just inches from the young woman's nose.


"Rosa~ how are you my dear?" he asked as he hoped he had reached her before it was to late, but he kept up a charming cheery tone regardless... no sense raising any alarms. "Reading the book I see? how far are you along?"

---

The barbarian did not relent. He had been hearing of the rumours about the sage on top of the tower living off bags of gold... the offer was too good to resist. Sure, he didn't find anything in the first floor, but he was not a man that gave up. The muscular man had already punched a hole through the aged, wooden door. The skilled magician had already woken up by now, her screams only encouraging the pineapple-wielding warrior to press on further, not realizing the mage had been female all along...


Rosa had felt hands grab at the book, swiftly closing it. The maid had already experienced the feeling of being so immersed in a novel that you just lose all awareness of surroundings. Because of this, she flinched, in a sort of lost daze, looking up at her Lord's worried face. "Oh, my Lord! I simply didn't see you here!" She smiled, in a daze, moving aside so that Lamont would be able to sit down beside her near the fire.


"I'm well, thank you. A bit hard to read without a magelight, my Lord." Rose said faintly, as if the book had really gotten to her. Truthfully, she hadn't even gotten through any explicit scenes quite yet. "Mhm~" The maid nodded cheerfully in agreement. "I didn't want to bother you so I just decided to read some of your recommendations.. I got to the really scary part of the book..." Rosa's voice quivered. "T-That barbarian...." Her emeralds widened as she curled up once again.


"That barbarian... a-and the sage, my Lord... t-they..." A deep breath escaped her lips. Rosa had not realized that there was a huge misunderstanding that occurred within these 10 seconds of worrying silence. "The barbarian... with t-the pineapple... he j-just..." Flailing around with a pink tint to her innocent face, she began to stammer out some words. "H-How could he? B-Barging into the sage's room like that! Th-That's just rude, my Lord!"

---

Lamont was frozen in a moment of fear and utter shame... What has he done...!? he was to late! He had soiled that poor girl's eyes forever!? He hurt her more then anybody could! Oh goddess forgive this poor soul for he knew not what he did!


BY THE GODDESS HE MUST MAKE AMENDS!


"H-How could he? B-Barging into the sage's room like that! Th-That's just rude, my Lord!"


....


......


.........


"Indeed! how rude of him, to barge in on a lady like that, just what kind of man does such a thing." he crossed his arms and nodded, looking like he was in a huff over it... when in truth he felt like he just got a clean shave by a ballista bolt. "My dear Rosa it appears I have made a mistake, this book is no good for you or anybody. And i, as your employer, friend and vicar, shall deal with this handily." he plucked the book up in to fingers and placed it away... perhaps to stash it in ava's wagon later...


Hey, he wasn't gona let a good book go to waste, smutty or not.


"Now my dear, I think i found something that will tickle your fancy actually, it may be for children, but I am most certain you will find it as enjoyable as I did. perhaps we can show little Era this later hmm? I am certain she would love it dearly."

---

"Really, it is rude, my Lord! You can't treat someone like that, man or woman!" Rose said, impassioned over what might just be the most G-Rated part of the entire novel. That wasn't saying something considering it was smut, simple as that. Little did she know what had happened with the pineapple. Speaking of pineapple, "I mean... a pineapple is a rather odd weapon, one would think... But thank you, my Lord, I would not have liked to find out how that rude barbarian acted towards that poor sage."


No.


No, Rosa, you would not.


What a shame, a good novel gone to waste. At least soon enough, a new one would appear. Immediately her emerald orbs lit up and shimmered in delight. "My Lord, it is absolutely adorable~" The maid squealed like a little girl and hugged him, squeezing him tightly to show her gratitude. "One would think children's books should not just be for children, by the Goddess, I think children's books seem to teach the best lessons with an enjoyable storyline. If my Lord has enjoyed it, I surely will, perhaps Era would enjoy this book quite a bit." The title of the book was much more pleasing to the ear as the cover was to the eyes. A smiling rabbit going on a stroll, there couldn't be anything wrong with it!


"My Lord... have you any wounds to tend to from that battle? I do feel ashamed, as I was not present as you fought valiantly. If only I could aid you further than with my cooking skills." Rose looked down at the ground, feeling awkward and out of place for daring to ask Lamont the simplest of questions.

---

The damn pineapple.


"Ah... yes it is an odd weapon- oh?" the hug came as a small surprise, but was pleasant enough without a question. She seemed to be doing this quite abit recently... had something changed? He wasn't about to tell her to stop though, he returned the hug along with a pat upon her head. "I'm glad you like it dear."


"-if only I could aid you further-"


His mind, perhaps perverted by the presence of the novel made him think that those words, if heard in different circumstance... would mean MUCH more then what she intend... Or perhaps it would be what she intended!? No, no she was an innocent woman, not a single... teasing, bone in her body! He must ignore this, return to the present, the gutter is not a place you want to tarry!


"No, I am fine my dear, a small scratch but nothing more, my magics are more then enough to keep me safe." he assured the woman with a small wave as he tried to further insulate his mind from any further... thoughts...


It will be fine Lamont.


Just think pure thoughts.


Don't think of anything that might cause... issues!


Remain... calm...


Calm....


....


....


....


This wasn't working at all, the man put a hand over his mouth and rubbed his face for a moment to hide his self induced blush...

---

This wasn't the first time Rosalia had accidentally acted or said something lewdly towards anyone. It always ended up in awkward situations for the people as opposed to herself. Though, something just didn't seem right. The way he seemed to brush off any need for healing, he had turned completely red. Rosa was distressed. Did she do anything? What was wrong with my Lord?


Rosalia quickly pulled away from her hug. As quickly as she had pulled away, conclusions began to form in the back of her mind. Her hands reached his forehead, was it a fever? And Rosa had been so blind to notice. Her hands traveled down to his cheeks where most of the heat had been coming from in concern. "My... My Lord?" She asked, eyes wide in confusion with tinges of guilt. "Why did you not tell me you had a fever? And... and I have embraced you as well...Please forgive me, my Lord." Her face expressed sincerity.


Rosalia decided that it was time to admit the truth. "My Lord, I must apologize, I have been quite... selfish ever since the journey." A flush. "I should not have hugged you, but I did not bring any of the stray cats with me to hug... It's too much sometimes, without Mr. Lemon Cakes... With Gracie at home, it will not be dangerous if I attempt an embrace, s-so I've gotten braver. I'm sorry, my Lord." Rosa felt the craving to just... hug things. Was it really that bad?


According to Gracie, yes it was. If she had attempted to hug the Vicar in Palenia, Gracie would have an even bigger vendetta against the maiden. Lamont was just like one of those cats with his hair colour and the fluffiness. Perhaps the maid would take to asking for permission this time. "My Lord... if it is not of an inconvenience, would it be too much to ask for another hug?" Rosalia made her best attempt at a pair of puppy-dog eyes.

---

"Err it's fine dear, I'm not sick or hurt, all is well." he tried to comfort the young woman, assuring him of his condition, Scathatch did a good job to keep him living in any rate. Wait... now she was onto the hugging? did he somehow give the sense it was disturbing him?


...in truth with such people at home would be digging up rumors like a storm... not to mention the stories would pile up like never before... all those terrible.. terrible books... of him and.... Rosa....


HOLD STRONG LAMONT!


YEA SHALL PASS THIS TEST!


A trial from above to test his strength of will! yes of course! He must remain strong, stick to his virtues! This was but a pure interaction between him and Rosa, nothing more!


INDEED! He shall prevail and remain stalwart in this time of... conflict!


Conflict? Was there a better word for this? he wasn't quite sure... wait... what is Rosa doing? Oh... oh gods she is doing the eye thing again! What did he do wrong? What did he miss? Did she say something? Did HE say something? Why does this happen every time?


Perhaps... a hug would work? She does them to him all the time.. perhaps it was time to show his friend some reciprocation?


...Yes...


Yes, he shall.


This time he came forwards and wrapped his arms around the woman, feeling abit awkward to for once not be on the receiving end, but... it was nice... he brought her close and, still unsure why she was doing the puppy dog eyes spoke. "You can have one anytime you like, any time you feel sad or hurt, even when we are back home." he patted her head once more and chuckled.


"You are just too sweet you know? if you could kill a man with kindness you would be the greatest warrior in the world."





It was at this moment he realized something... Something that he hadn't noticed until now... Under a tree, ontop of a small hill, bright sunny day...


...This was as romantic as it could get...


....


Oh god.


In a sudden flurry of confusion lamont steeled himself once more. "I-I think I should let you get to your book now, it is almost time to meet up with the others!" he stated as his face turned from a small shade of red to one that looked like he was covered in red paint. He slowly let go of Rosa and patted her on the shoulder.


"I shall see you soon okay? don't take to long!" he tried to sound cheery as he turned to go back... eyes wide in hopes she had not noticed as much as he did.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Mordimort stared from her hidden position, laying on her stomach and peering at the scene before her like a spy, or what she assumed a spy would do really.

"ohohohohohohohoo~~! This is just a treat~! i wonder what they were doing there... So close and friendly~ oh my!!!" she snickered like the sneaky cat-like thing she was, writing down all she saw in her journal for later. "Oh, Ava is gona love this~ Wait... should I tell her? Oh, maybe I'll tell that other lord lady? And Era, have to tell Era~"

The young woman plotted whom she would tell for a moment before she started to skulk off into the shadows to find her way back to the caravan. "Oh this is gona be soooo good~"

The Blue Rose traversed the vast, dark ocean. It was pouring rain, yet there was almost no wind this afternoon, which allowed the ship for only a slow pace as it gently rocked on the soft waves. The sky was grey as granite, and the rain didn't seem willing to subside anytime soon.

Diana was sitting in her cabin aboard the ship. Like, literally just sitting there by the table which she used as a makeshift desk when she needed to write something in her dairy or make other notes. She had just finished a drawing which she had drawn on a piece of parchment. It depicted a fawn and a flowery frame around the animal. It was extraordinarily detailed for one of her drawings, and far from the work of an amateur. See, Diana knew how to use a quill; she'd been taught writing early on, and could write both decorative and perfectly correct texts in a faster pace than most. But she also knew how to draw! She was in no sense an artist, but she still had sort of a flare for it.

"A waste of ink." She muttered to no one in particular, though she didn't mean it. It was her father's words. He had never liked her spending time on drawing or painting when she was a young girl. He wanted his daughter to be able to enjoy art, sure, but she wasn't supposed to be the artist. Being an artist was equal to being a jester, you were only there to amuse those of better standing than yourself. Diana had never quite agreed with her father's opinion on the matter, but nor had she openly opposed it. It was an interest of hers that she'd learned to suppress.

She had asked Grieves to bring her some wine in hopes that it would help her pass this boring day quicker. So naturally she was filled with hope when she heard someone open the door and step inside...

Traveling this far by sea seemed doable until the first week went by. The second week was even slower. Eventually the Blue Rose had become to feel more like a prison than a boat. Grieves longed to see a flower or a tree and it felt like he never would again. It was more of a homesick feeling than a sense of crushing boredom. He had work to keep him busy. Speaking of work...

Diana had asked him to retrieve a bottle of wine to combat her boredom. He could understand how she was probably faring far worse than him in keeping herself busy, so he took it upon himself to entertain her as well. Because what's wine without entertainment? So in addition to the wine, he'd brought along his violin.

Grieves reentered her quarters and set a glass down upon her desk. He showed off the bottle before pouring a glass. "The finest Marsala the galley has to offer, Madam. I've opened it myself to ensure that a dubious toxin does not lurk within." As he poured dark red liquid into the glass, he noticed Diana's drawing upon her desk. A rare half smile danced upon his lips. "Madam Dusette, I was unaware you were such an accomplished artist?" he asked curiously as he set the bottle down and corked it.

"Thank you most kindly, Grieves. That'll do just fine." Diana said before gently picking the up the glass with a very delicate hand, seeming to barely touch it. She gave the wine a light swirl before sniffing the top of the glass, closing her eyes as she let herself enjoy the sensation of the aromatic scent of the wine. Trusting Grieves that he'd opened the bottle himself to make sure there was no poison within, she slowly let her lips meet the cold glass and tasted the wine.

"Ah, I couldn't have asked for a better wine on a rainy day such as this." She said with a voice that clearly showed how satisfied she was with the beverage.

Diana's already wide smile became even wider when her butler complimented her drawing. After all, she had spent a good amount of time and effort on it, and as such it was nice to get some recognition. "Please Grieves, don't mock me like that. I actually put some effort into this, but well... It's still hardly a work of art." She said, and turned to look at Grieves, still smiling broadly from the compliment she'd given her.

Now that she looked at him, she noticed the violin in his hands. "Say, is that a violin?"She asked curiously looking at the instrument. "Do you by chance play it, Grieves?"

Diana's humility was met with a warm smile from the butler. "I wouldn't delude you Madam. I'm quite fond of the border around the creature. I've been yearning to see a flower for weeks now." Though a drawing couldn't possibly match the sight of the real thing, it was genuinely refreshing to stumble upon Diana's little "doodle". Yet all of the effort she put into it was a telltale sign that she was bored. And while Grieves could leave her to her bottle, that wouldn't be exceptional service, and Grieves refused to be anything less.

When Diana commented on the violin, she reminded Grieves that he even had it with him. He got pretty distracted by her drawing and he now had the urge to draw something as well. "Ah! Yes, I do play!" Grieves unlocked the case and displayed the violin. "Before I came into your service Madam, my former employers were quite charmed by my recitals, though I am certainly no virtuoso. But perhaps I can assist the wine in relieving your ennui?"

Diana let out a laugh that bordered to a giggling when her butler told her about his yearning to see flowers. “I didn't know held flowers in such a high regard as to yearn to behold them only after two weeks at sea, certainly there must be things you miss more while being away from home?” She said in a friendly manner and raised an eyebrow. From her tone and what one could otherwise tell she was actually happily surprised to hear that her butler had a sensitive side, something which she had yet not truly seen on display all that often.

“Either way, I am very glad you like it, Grieves, really I appreciate your kind words. It was years and ages since anyone complimented an artistic work of mine.” She said, realizing that her statement was true mostly due to the fact that she really never did much drawing now days.

When Grieves answered her questions about the violin, Diana grew ever so excited. “Oh, you do play? How intriguing!” She said and clapped her hands a little from the excitement from the chance of getting to hear some music, a thing her ears hadn't been treated with since the left the main land.

“Please Grieves, do what you can to impress me with your musical talents. I shall be most delighted to have musical tones as company over this fine glass.” She said and took a sip of wine and leaned back in her chair, looking at her butler as she expected him to start playing.

Grieves chuckled along with Diana, and softly replied, "Other than my parents, no, there is not much else I miss from home Madam." He could see the humor in a man such as himself, what with his build and serious demeanor, wanting nothing more than to see a rose or a tulip while at sea, but part of him wondered if she thought any less of his services because of it. It didn't matter much, because if that were the case he was committed to being a consistently extraordinary butler, and making sure that by the end of the trip, she'd have little to complain about. Still, she seemed amused and that was better than her being bored.

He nodded gracefully as she thanked him for his compliment. "You're most welcome, Madam. Perhaps if you decide to draw more often during our voyage, you would show me your work? If the mood suits you, of course." Grieves didn't want to be intrusive, but he was genuinely interested in how other people expressed themselves through art.

Grieves removed resin from within the case and rubbed it against his bow as Diana lit up at the prospect of hearing him play. "Splendid. As you wish, Madam. I am a tad bit out of practice, but I will do my best not to offend your ears." He tuned the instrument and chuckled after his little disclaimer. It was true though, he hadn't practiced in a while, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck up his first time playing for Diana. So as he shuffled through the pieces he'd memorized in his head, he decided to pick something that was simple for a violinist at his level, and something that he'd practiced often so that muscle memory could take effect.

Grieves cleared his throat and closed his eyes as he got in position. He leaned against Diana's desk and began to play. He swayed slightly as the bow glided across the strings, smiling softly to himself as the piece and all of the intricate details hiding behind the notes flooded back to him. When he was finished playing the final note, he looked to Diana for a reaction.

Diana made herself comfortable in her chair, leaning back and crossing her legs. She watched with much excitement as her butler started playing his instrument, all the while she was sipping from her glass of wine every now and then. A melody composed of mostly calm tones that somehow carried both sadness and serenity in them soon flowed through the cabin. It was a pleasant melody, but it was not the best piece of music she'd ever heard in her life, no, she'd heard some of Fuccino’s finest musicians play much more complicated and genius works more than once.

But even so, there was something extraordinary about Grieves performance, something about his appearance in stark contrast to the softness of the melody really grew on her, and after a while she felt truly affected by the violin’s voice. Perhaps it was her recent boredom that left her unable to fairly judge and therefore gave more credit to the performance than was due, or maybe it was the many a feeling she had stockpiled inside from having left the security of her home to travel to unknown lands that got to her at this moment?

At any rate, the longer she listened to the beautiful tunes of Grieves' violin, the less often did she drink of her wine. And before it was all over she had stopped reaching for her glass at all.

“A most delightful performance! You are certainly more than meets the eye, Grieves.” She said, and gave a soft applaud to show her appreciation of her butlers performance. “How did you learn this?” She asked, now sitting up properly in the chair again.

While he'd been playing, he'd let go of all of his worries and merely let his soul and fingers take control of the instrument. But now that the piece was over, he'd found his nerves had returned in full force for a split second before Diana praised his performance. A relieved sigh escaped from his chest and he bowed graciously. "I'm humbled that you think so Madam." He could tell that Diana was true to her words, she had an aura of sincerity in private that many of his former employers did not. "My mother used to give me lessons when I was young. When I began to grow into the height I am today, she insisted that I switch my primary instrument to the upright bass. But I found it to be quite the challenge to transport with ease. And so my father crafted this one as a gift." Grieves chuckled as he set down the instrument and lifted up the wine bottle by the neck. Diana hadn't yet finished her glass, but Grieves preemptively offered a refill. "More wine, Madam?"

As if her spirits were renewed by the melody she'd just heard, Diana felt how the boredom washed away from her mind. She still smiled broadly as she nodded to signal to Grieves that he could fill up her glass once more.

"Grieves, I am most impressed, and now also intrigued! Please, do tell me, are there more secret skills hiding under your surface? And do tell me of your parents, they must've been good people since they could give you such fine gifts and teach you such musical skills.” She said and took another big sip of wine as soon as Grieves had filled it up. She then passed the glass over to him.

“You'll share a few glasses with me, won't you? Time flows quicker if we both drink.” She said this with a smirking smile and offered her butler a wink.

She was hoping that Grieves would allow himself a drink. Sure, it wasn't perhaps perfectly professional for the two of them to drink together, but then again that never stopped Diana before. She believed that professionalism was something to be held in high regard, it was not always needed. Right now for example they could share a glass (share the same glass in fact) without it affecting their professional relationship. At least so the charlataneous Diana figured – she could always act professional around her butler if ever needed.

Grieves nodded and refilled Diana's glass. As he poured the dark red liquid, he cocked his head curiously at Diana's interest in his personal life. If one of Grieves' former employers were sitting where Diana currently is, Grieves would have been here only to fill a glass and to play the next piece while the Lord broods, or reads important documents before signing them, or writes a memoir. None of them had ever taken an interest in him, and who he was. It was refreshing, but it was also new territory for Grieves, because it blurred the lines of what he had come to accept as professionalism. Yet he'd come here to entertain, and if Diana would be entertained by hearing about his life, then the most professional course of action would be to oblige her.

That line that he had come to know and grow comfortable with was downright erased when Diana offered him a sip of the wine. A look of confusion struck his face for a moment as he looked down at the glass. "Ah..." Grieves knew that according to his code as a butler, he pretty much had to take a sip, you don't reject an offer like that. And not only that, but he wanted to take a sip. Some wine would come in handy if he was going to keep Diana entertained by getting to know him. But this was so new to him, it took him a moment to respond and regain himself. "If it would please you, Madam, I'd be most grateful to partake in a glass alongside you." Grieves bowed his head and accepted the glass. He swished it around for a moment, and he thought to himself that Diana must have engaged in such behavior with her servants before, she seemed so comfortable with not only allowing him to drink, but it appeared as if she didn't even mind sharing the glass. New, but if that's what she wanted, then bombs away.

Grieves took a sip, careful not to take one any bigger than Diana's, and then cocked his head as he studied the glass. "That is quite delightful, Madam." He passed the glass back to Diana and folded his arms behind his back. "Are you truly interested in learning the details of my life? I'm not terribly interesting. Though I must confess, Madam, it would be a first for one of my employers." Grieves smirked and dryly joked, "Perhaps I've underestimated the severity of your boredom?"

Diana couldn't keep herself from giggling as her Butler tried to be act proper and professional around something as intimate as drinking from the same glass. "Grieves, please relax we're not in public. When it's just the two of us you don't need to 'madam' me, or keep professional distance." She said and took another sip from their glass.

"And I would certainly like to hear about your life. Unless you disagree of course. Though, of everyone aboard this boat you're probably the most interesting. Besides, if I get to properly know you I'll feel much safer letting my guard down around you like this."

Grieves twitched slightly when Diana asked him not to call her Madam in private. That was definitely a new one for him. Breaking that habit would be a daunting task, but orders were orders right? "As you wish Mad--Di-Diana." Just saying it felt like he'd broken some kind of rule...but it was nice too. And if it would make her feel safer, then that meant that establishing a closer relationship would mean that he'd be performing in his job at the highest level possible.

He didn't find himself to be particularly interesting, but it meant a lot to him that Diana thought so. "Though I have my doubts about that," Grieves began humbly, "I am flattered and thankful that you think so, Mad--Diana." Grieves pulled up a seat and laced his fingers together before telling his story. He had to carefully pick out the details. In the past he'd found it convenient to avoid speaking of his father's occupation before he began working construction. There was also a secret that he wished to keep for now: his love of painting.

"My mother was of higher birth than my father; he's a very talented carpenter and he works primarily in erecting structures back home in Fuccino. She does not speak of it much, but her family did not support her choice in husbands and so she ran off with him. Though she was reduced to a life of servitude, she insisted on maintaining her class..." Grieves began, and continued. The two continued to trade stories about their families over their glass of wine until the bottle had been emptied.

What an embarrassment. What a vile, and disgusting embarrassment. Grieves was still deeply mortified by his actions tonight. He may have been able to clean the guts and...juices of the creatures off of he and his lady’s clothes but in his mind they would stain his resumé forever. Never did he imagine that he'd rather be fighting actual people than the grotesque children of necromancers. At least people didn't explode when you hit them.

When he'd finished cleaning his suit and Diana’s clothes he hung them up to dry with a heavy sigh and began to head for the village sauna. At least he'd learned that the special suit he'd bought for the trip had been worth the money. It was spun with arcane thread to protect him from magic, and it proved greatly successful against the hideous eyeballs. However, he acknowledged that the summoned creatures were weak and he'd need to test the suit out against an actual mage. Hopefully the opportunity to do so wouldn't arrive too soon. Grieves was done for the night, and not to mention the suit was too wet to put on anyway, so another impromptu battle would be taxing to say the least.

All of this fighting was exhausting. No one had anticipated they'd be joining a rebellion upon landing in Satrella, and Grieves still needed to gather his thoughts on the matter and mentally prepare himself for the inevitable skirmishes he'd find himself in. And there's no better place to reflect than a sauna. The villagers had been kind and thankful enough to let them use it. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist he sat down, leaned his head back, shut his eyes, and relaxed.

Almost completely concealed by the thick steam of the sauna, Diana was trying her best to let go of the stressful thoughts connected to tonight events. Said events hadn't exactly been very pleasant for her, to say the least. First, she'd been walking in rain and mud for what felt like ages, and then a host of risen undead had showed up to make life even more sour. And here is where things really started going south for the senator this night. See, Diana hadn't been much help at all during the battle. Last time around she had been useful and had proven competent, which was of course a necessity if she was to maintain her high position in the assembly. This time though, she had been bested in combat by brainless zombies, and even vomited upon by those horrid floating, exploding, eyeballs. Completely covered and soaked in slimy, gooey, yuck! And walking around covered in such hardly helped her keeping her head high around the other Lords.

Luckily, she had had Grieves to save the day. Not only had her poor butler saved her from an incoming explosion of mogall guts, but he had also went straight to washing his and her clothes once they were let into the nearby village after the battle had ended. Priorities...

Diana sighed , and felt a bit of shame and guilt was over her as she sat there in the foggy steam. Who was she to complain and feel bad tonight? Heck, her clothes was already being washed, and by the morrow they'd be dry and clean, as new. But what about the Vicar? He'd lost his bodyguard during the battle.

But before she could dwell longer on those thoughts, her attention was drawn to someone entering the sauna. The steam was too thick for Diana to recognise the person who had just entered, but by the silhouette she could tell it was a rather tall man with broad shoulders. It appeared as if the other person hadn't spotted her through the steam in the corner where she sat, for he just sat himself down without paying her any attention.

“Well, I hope you don't mind company.” She said after a short while, to alert the other person to her own presence.

Through the steam the sound of a voice disrupted his brooding and snapped him back into reality. This wasn’t just anyone’s voice, it was a woman’s voice. And to be more specific, it wasn’t just any woman’s voice, it was Diana’s voice.

As if by instinct, the very timbre of her voice made him sit upright, posture perfect as always. “M-Madam! My apologies, I didn’t see y--” It was at this point that he realized he may have wandered into the wrong half of the sauna, and that he was currently in a state of undress. “By The All!” he looked away from the direction he’d heard her voice, thanking The All for the thick steam of the sauna. He was wondering how he could have wandered into the women’s side of the sauna, but he couldn’t recall there even being a division when he entered. Perhaps such things just didn’t exist in this country, or perhaps he’d just been absent-minded. “I-I apologize, Madam. I didn’t realize you were here.” He stood and bowed away from her general direction and stammered, “I-I’ll leave right away.”

"Oh, it's you." Diana easily distinguished the other person in the sauna as Grieves. If not by his voice so by the way he addresses her and acted in the situation. At first smiling at her butler's attempt on being unendingly proper, she then decided to help the situation before Grieves actually left the sauna. After all, she didn't want to deprive him of this moment of relaxation.

"Don't be silly Grieves, you may stay. In the one trespassing on your turf anyway. This being the men's sauna and all. Couldn't stand the quacking of the women in the other section, so I snuck in here since it was empty." She said and made sure her towel was still securely wrapped around her otherwise naked body before she shifted a bit closer to Grieves in order to at least be able to see his face.

"So really, I'm actually the one who ought to leave." She said as she appeared from the steam, pausing briefly as she could now see Grieves more clearly. She did look, if just a little. Heck, the man was ripped as hell, so how could she not?

"If you want me gone, just say the word. But I don't mind your company."

Grieves found himself at odds with himself. After getting over the initial shock, he thought about how he and Diana had shared wine before, and that Diana was a lot more relaxed about formality than many of his other masters. Remembering this helped him to settle down a bit. “I see,” he replied.

Cautiously, he returned to his seat next to Diana. It was actually nice running into her now that he thought about it. “Madam I’m sorry about what happened with the…eyeball-creature. Our clothes are drying as we speak.” He felt the need to apologize, so Diana being here was actually quite fortunate. Grieves had been expecting to do it in the morning. “How are you feeling, Madam?” he asked. They’d survived their second battle together. He imagined she might be pretty shook up. After all, he was. Though the necromancer’s creatures had been defeated and the necromancer captured, the Assembly still lost a man tonight.

It appeared as if Grieves was going to let Diana stay in the sauna with him. Not that she had really expected anything else of course, but that didn't make her any the less grateful. Having some company could do her some good anyway, for sitting there all alone did not make her feeling very strong and proud, which was normally one of her signature features.

At the question of how she was feeling, she was first unable to decide what to answer. Part of her wanted to just cry out how much she hated the situation. How badly she wanted to go home, and how horrible the latest battle had been. She wanted someone to comfort and pity her. But doing that would not only make her look weak, it would also make her feel even more ashamed for feeling this way in the first place. Grieves clearly reminded her of that for mentioning the death of the poor Palenian bodyguard. You're not in a position to complain, Diana!

“I-I'm fine. But thanks for asking.” She finally said with a slight stutter in her voice after her pride had won a cruel fight against her feelings and instincts. “Glad to hear that you've tended to our clothes. Those eyeball monstrosities sure were... well horrible to say the least. And no need to be sorry, my dear Grieves, you did more than I could've ever expected from anyone out there. Instead, let me express my thanks to you for so unselfishly throwing yourself into harm's way for the sake of protecting me.”

She shifted a bit and sought to look into the eyes of her butler. She then proceeded carefully place a hand on his shoulder and asked him with sincere concern in her voice:

“How are you feeling yourself, Grieves?"

It’s true that Diana was unlike any other charge Grieves had served previously. She was definitely the most low-maintenance he’d ever served, and among the most kind as well. The difference between being kind and low-maintenance was made quite apparent to Grieves as he proceeded deeper into his career as a servant. To possess both traits was what made Diana different in his experience so far. Everyday with Diana was a learning opportunity. She was somewhere in between being self sufficient enough to not require his constant attention, and yet too kind and considerate to ask for it when she needed it the most. Grieves being the person he is never pressed the manner, rather, he had begun to study cues both verbal and nonverbal that would allow him to unlock Diana’s true feelings and thus, the actions he needed to take in order to match them. Her stutter was enough to let him know immediately that while she may be physically in one piece, she was not mentally or spiritually ‘fine.’

“As always, your gratitude is welcome.” Grieves began, bowing his head a bit out of habit. “It is my duty to protect you Madam. Think nothing of it.” He briefly considered his own feelings and answered somewhat honestly, in hopes of baiting out Diana’s own true feelings. “In truth, I am quite terrified Madam. Though I realize that such creatures won’t be commonplace unless we run into any more necromancers, I’ve been reminded of the true danger of this New World.” Grieves winced and expanded upon this thought. “The unfamiliarity of this land, the hostile natives, and the unpredictability of the coming day… I fear for all of our lives.” Grieves allowed himself to be vulnerable, looking down at the sauna floor as he spoke. “Madam, I know that you too are fearful. But I want you to know that despite how I may feel, I will see to it that you return to Fuccino safely. Even if I must give my life, I am fully prepared to do so.”

As Grieves continued to speak the cruel battle between inside of Diana started all over again. On the attacking side was her feelings and instincts, and the defending party was her mind who did all it possibly could to protect the beseiged castle that was her pride.

"You're being modest, Grieves. I know it is your duty, but your commitment and effort are just as impressive all the same. I am truly grateful of your services so far." Said Diana, truthfully.

The butler's openness and honesty proved to be the perfect battering rams for this battle, as they smashed open doors and gates for her feelings to penetrate. The castle was thus breached and Diana's mind made a desperate last stand against the incoming wave of feelings and emotion.

"I agree. We must thread lightly and be sure to watch our backs..." She replied. Empty words, a cliche, obviously they had to be careful. But right now this was all Diana could say, for she was growing desperate in her attempt to remain strong in the situation. For she couldn't be weak, her father had always scolded her when she had let emotion shine through.

What was ultimately the finishing blow was when Grieves told her that he was ready to give his life to guarantee her safe return to Fuccino if needed. Even if it was something she already knew he would (today's events was more than enough to prove that), it still hit her like a bad of bricks. Unable to say something she just started into the steamy fog in front of her and in a sudden she started sobbing. It lasted only for a few seconds before she regained control of her feelings and could wipe her tears and put a fake smile back on her lips.

"Oh, crap. Sorry about that. It's just... All this traveling and fighting and death and... It takes its toll." She said, hating herself for how she had let herself be seen as weak and emotional.

Grieves had successfully baited out Diana’s true feelings, alright. The crying was a bit more than he bargained for, and he instinctively reached up toward his chest for a handkerchief. But obviously, there was nothing there except for his skin. And the handkerchief was drying along with the suit. “Madam I…” Grieves found himself in a bit of an unusual situation.

Most people he’d served had never cried in front of him before, unless they were children. Usually they’d instruct him to leave before showing such an outpouring of emotion. But Grieves already understood that Diana was quite unlike most he served. And learning to adapt to her often meant creating new rules and altering the old rules of his servant-master behavioral etiquette. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, which was a big deal for him, because he never initiated physical contact unless instructed to do so, or if he’d gotten permission first.

He patted her shoulder and replied, “It is quite alright Madam, there is no need to apologize. Your emotional distress is both well-warranted and necessary to express for your physical and mental wellbeing. I would never think any less of you for it. That would be in direct opposition to my oath as your butler. I’m here to take care of you.”

When it came to servant-master behavioral etiquette, Diana wasn't one to really care unless it was a formal occation. In the sauna where no one was watching them, she didn't at all mind the otherwise solid boundaries that applied when it came to how one was to properly act around service folk. And she greatly appreciated the fact that Grieves didn't seem to take those rules to seriously right now either. See, physical contact wasn't exactly something Diana had ever been spoiled very with, so the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder made her feel greatly comforted.

She leaned her head backwards and looked up into the ceiling. “But I do need to apologize, Grieves. I'm supposed to be a leader, someone that might some day have responsibility for the well-being of our entire nation, all of Fuccino. And even if that day never comes there's already a big piece of responsibility placed on my plate right now. And you're one of our people, one of my people. You deserve strong leadership, people that can handle situations like this. But believe me, I am trying, and I will not let you or anyone else down. I'll use the full of my abilities to pull through and bring the best out of this situation before it's all over.” She said, knowing that it wasn't Grieves she was really talking to, no, it was her father. This was her explaining to him that she wasn't a failure, that she was not a disappointment.

She sighed again, and turned her attention to her butler and said with quite some honesty in her voice. “But thanks for being nice to me now, oath or not. Just know that I'll repay the favour if it's ever needed. Just tell me if there is anything I can do for you, Grieves. Though, just don't... Don't tell anyone of my moment of weakness, will you? Can't have them find out.” With them she of course meant the other Lords, there was no way she would show any sign of weakness unless she could gain anything from it.

Grieves nodded along, acknowledging the weight on Diana’s shoulders. He couldn’t completely understand the feeling. Responsibility had always been a part of his life, but it had never been as grand as Diana’s, or Zakai and Lamont. One thing he could say without doubt was that all three of them were handling the situation with great dignity and valor. He could name more than a few that he’d served who would have cowered behind their servants in the battles so far. Hell, many of them probably would have surrendered to Taros immediately if it meant they could bargain for their lives. He felt that it was important to let Diana know he didn’t need her to convince him that she was capable of surviving the path that lie ahead. “I believe in you Madam,” he assured her. But he wondered if he was really the one she was trying to convince. She seemed as if she was speaking more to someone else. Perhaps herself even.

When she did turn back to him, he nodded and replied swiftly. “Of course Madam. I wouldn’t dream of it. Although…” Grieves paused shortly to better put together his thoughts. He understood why Diana would hide her more distressing feelings from her peers, that was a given. She had a nation to represent. But bottling her emotions could be just as harmful as over expressing. He continued, “Although if you ever need to let off some steam privately -- pardon the pun -- I live to serve in whatever way I can.”

Finally a smile, every so faintly, appeared on Diana's face when her dear butler offer her a helping hand to vent the future feelings of distress and chaos she knew would eventually come. It gave her hope, but it was also quite charming to see that Grieves willingly would put up with her in moments of weakness, she wasn't sure that any man had ever done that before. Her father and husband want exactly the kind of people to care for her feelings, and Al he was... Well, he would probably at least try if she asked for it, but he didn't strike her as a feeling-person. But Grieves however, Diana certainly saw him in a new light as of late.

"Really? I could really need that. I really really could... Just don't promise something you can't keep, Grieves." She said and trying to meet his gaze with hers.

"But I hope you do keep it." She said after a brief moment of silence. "I'm not even worried. You seem to know what to say to keep me afloat. Have you done this before?"

A promise that he couldn’t keep. The very concept was completely paradoxical to him. A promise that couldn’t be kept was only a lie in disguise. And though Grieves certainly chose his words carefully around his clients, and occasionally lied about his opinions of them if it meant keeping his job, Grieves never lied when it came to what he could and couldn’t do for someone. That would be poor for his reputation and his professional career. Yet, it became clear why Diana would say this. His parents often broke promises to him and his friends would as well. Often times it was those that cared for him most that couldn’t stand by there word. Not for a lack of trying. Sometimes circumstances simply didn’t allow for the promise to be kept. In his mind, that didn’t make it any less of a lie, but not all lies are malicious. That Diana thought he would be lying to her spoke volumes of how far they had come. It meant that they were beyond the initial relationship of master and servant. They had become friends. “Madam,” he met her eyes as she turned back to him and solemnly promised, “For as long as I live and am at your side, you will have a friend in me.”

The question of whether or not he’s done “this”, whatever “this” is, before made the typically stoic butler chuckle softly. He folded his hands in his lap and his eyes looked upward in thought. “I suppose,” he answered after a while. “Though this is probably the most effective I’ve ever been at comforting a woman in distress,” Grieves admitted. He paused, wondering if he should elaborate or not. The distance he usually kept with his masters in terms of how much they knew about him no longer applied to Diana, but he wondered just how much he could say to maintain his professionalism. “My mother would cry sometimes… as would the maids I’ve worked with.” He began. “The masters I’ve served in the past could be cruel at times. Though my mother is a powerful woman, their words would affect her on rare occasions. But I was merely a boy back then. There was nothing I could say to lift her spirits. I believe now in hindsight that I didn’t have to say anything. Sometimes… the presence of someone you trust is enough to soothe the soul.”

Diana was happy to have Grieves as her friend, and a tingling feeling coursed through her body when she looked into good eyes and heard him promise to remain he friend. Of course, Diana knew better than to believe such promises most of the time, for in her longer of work (finance and politics) people were hardly honest ever two friends, out was always business. But for reasons she quite didn't understand she actually did think Grieves to be sincere, and it warmed her heart in this hour of despair.

"And you'll allways have a friend in me. I promise to never become like your former employers and cause you or your close ones any harm or ill. If I do so, then leave me and never look back... Though, what did they say that was so horribly cruel and harmful? May I ask?" Diana had to ask, she knew it was sort of inproper to ask about that, but her interest had been sparked and now her curiosity got the better of her.

Being friends with his master. Though he’d gotten along with some of his masters, he wouldn’t go as far to say that they were his friends. Nevertheless they had both explicitly declared their friendship. He wondered if Diana would go back on this declaration and denounce their friendship if she did become cruel. There was a strong doubt that she would let him leave if the time came, unless he’d somehow proven to be an inadequate butler. And yet, he couldn’t see a future where Diana would become that blackhearted.

Grieves considered her question as memory after memory raced into his head. He was obliged to answer simply because he’d been asked, but he hadn’t ever shared information like this before with nobles. Most of them would rather look away from the shitty way people of their class treated their servants. “My mother would never repeat their insults to me. A hysterical maid was much more likely to do so. They would be called every foul term for a woman that you can think of; I would rather not repeat such slurs in your presence. Though if you insist I shall oblige. However... some of my more malicious masters would find ways to cut deeper into their servants’ self-esteem than simple name calling ever could. Typically by stitching whatever painful memories they could remember about the servant in question into their… criticism, I suppose they would call it. This might come as a shock to you, but many people in Fuccino are blackmailed into being servants.”

Diana wouldn't make Grieves utter any words he didn't want to, not because she'd take any offence, but it was sort of clear that the butler preferred not to say it anyway. She let her curiosity go unsatisfied for his sake.

But there was one thing he said really caught her attention - people of Fuccino being blackmailed into becoming servants. Of course she knew about this fact. And of course her family wasn't without blame in the matter. Her father was the president and even before that he'd still been one of the wealthiest bankers in the country. Such fortune and power was not obtained only by working hard, it was also a matter of getting your hand dirty.

With eyes mirroring the guilt she felt she looked at her butler, not quite sure what to say. "I know. It's one of the things I would have and end to if I ever find myself in my father's position." She lied. Or did she? Actually, eradicating any kind of corruption and oppression was in her interest, but then again she wouldn't want to risk her own reputation for it...

"I'm not sure what to say, I... I'm sorry for everything bad that came across your path, Grieves. Is there anything I can do to restore your faith in... me? In the Fuccino social elite?" This was getting weird.

I know you would, Grieves thought to himself when Diana expressed her wish to end corruption should she ever sit on the President’s throne. Despite her own doubts, Grieves fully believed that Diana would accomplish such a thing should she survive her experience in Satrella. Perhaps it was naive of him to think so, but he did. His typically hardened facial expression softened. Grieves turned away from her in favor of facing forward and simply nodding.

Diana broke the silence once more. Grieves turned back to her and shook his head. “Madam, you need not apologize. It isn’t your fault, and I am thoroughly grateful for the life I have lived and the perspective I have gained. Also…” The corners of Grieves’s lips twisted upward ever so slightly. “...I respect the Fuccino elite, but I’ve no faith in them collectively. However, you Madam… you aren’t them. You are only you. And I have the utmost faith in you, Madam.”

The absolute best of Grieves many qualities wasn't the fact that he did his job extremely well, nor was it that he was an excellent fighter that passed as a second bodyguard during conflict and when danger reared it's head. No, if there was just one thing that was better than anything else about Grieves, it was that he kept telling Diana things that really boosted her confidence. He would give her compliments, but not the ordinary kind about her clothes, or how pretty she was, that she would receive from other men. No, he actually complimented her on her personality, on her cause. He told her that he believed in her, which not even her father had ever done. Like just now, hearing that he had utmost faith in her? Wow, that was a big deal for Diana, because when Grieves said it she actually believed it to be sincere.

“Thank you, Grieves... You have no idea what it means to hear that from you.” She said, not at all sure about how to actually phrase the next part. She was about to ask Grieves something that perhaps was a bit out of place, but then again, they were already sitting naked next to each other, so what harm could a few more unprofessional activities actually be? “Remember back on the The Blue Rose? We had a pretty nice talk one evening, got us a glass of wine and what not. I was thinking... perhaps we should do that again, Tyson. If you want to. Like, when we're both off duty so to speak.” She said and bit her lip from feeling silly about how she delivered the question. Asking people to drink with her, even people who worked for her, was seldom a hard thing for Diana to do, and her confidence in social situations often appeared rather great (even if it was of course an act part of the time). But this time around was somehow different, there was something more genuine this time around, like, she didn't want to hang out with Grieves just to pass time or because it was simple and easy, but maybe because it was worth it? Because he could potentially become a real friend. At the very least, he did seem to see more in her than most others did.

Grieves wasn’t one to complain, but he did have thorough evaluations of his previous masters, for it was his experiences with them that informed his methods and behavior as a Butler when it came to all future masters. In all of his history, he had never served anyone that would place any weight in his words. Most people simply didn’t get the impression that he had anything worthwhile to say, and he was more often called upon to open a pesky jar than to offer his opinion. In fact he could only think of one other time that one of his masters ever listened to him.

They had asked him rhetorically if he knew anything about color palettes while they were remodeling their one of their guest’s room, and were quite surprised to find that the large man pouring their tea not only knew color palettes, but already had one in mind for the room. But beyond that, there was no one other than Diana that placed any value in not only his words, but his thoughts about her specifically. It seemed that every day he served her he discovered something unique about her that would tailor how he would go about his job, which was natural with any client. What made Diana special was that she was so unorthodox, she made Grieves create new methods of improving his service to her. Many of those methods simply involved being a friend. It was both a heavy responsibility and an enjoyable one.

Grieves wasn’t used to being called by his first name, especially not by people he worked for. It was reserved for people who knew him more intimately, and ironically Diana used it in reference to the now second-most intimate moment he’d ever had with anyone he had ever served. And it had only become the second-most intimate moment due to the fact that they were currently kicking it in a sauna. Hearing it made his face flush slightly. “C-Certainly…” Grieves closed his eyes and seemed to mentally imbue himself with the strength to say, “...Diana.” A wave of mixed feelings washed over the butler. It felt so right and yet so wrong to call her by her first name, like a curse word almost. So unprofessional and yet so cathartic. “When we’re off duty,” he repeated, as if he wanted to erase that he had just said Diana.

Diana quickly picked up that something was off with Grieves when he replied to her suggestion. It wasn't like him to stutter or sound insecure like that. Did I say something wrong? She bit her lip again, looking at Grieves with eyes that betrayed some of her doubt and guilt. She really didn't want to offend him by being too forward about asking him to have a glass with her, but now that it was already done, she couldn't exactly take the offer back either. For some reason it was as if she had stepped over an invisible line. Perhaps it was time to take a step back?

“Like I said, it's only if you want to. I understand completely if you'd rather decline, after all, you're not here to amuse me.” She let her tone of voice slid back a bit closer to that which she usually had when she spoke. One that was more so authoritarian and formal than the milder and weaker kind of voice she had used during most of the sauna time so far.

“Actually I think I should be going... You can remain here for a while if you please. I'll want my clothes delivered too me as soon as they are dry. Other than that, feel free to take the rest of the night off.” She said and carefully got up from the bench, paying close attention to her towel to make sure not to reveal too much of naked body too her Butler.

Before she opened the door to leave the warm fog of the sauna, she turned around and looked at Grieves who was seen as but a silhouette in the steamy darkness. “The offer still stands of course. I might even find myself having a glass tonight even. At least consider it, Tyson.” She said, this time with her informal and ordinary voice again. It was like she didn't want this to end with her being the politician Diana. No, she wanted the real Diana to be the one to leave the sauna.

Grieves reacted to Diana tightening up by tightening up himself. He sat up straight and searched for the words to see himself out of his awkward response. Surely Diana had picked up on his discomfort in using her given name, she was a perceptive individual and he hadn’t ever lost his composure around her until now. But how in the hell was he supposed to apologize for that? Should he even apologize for that? What’s the proper protocol here? As Grieves searched for the answer, Diana excused herself, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d failed her somehow. It was as if all his training and experience were working against him now in the presence of a client who had become more than just a client. She also reminded him about her clothes, which should have been nearly dry by now, though the night and Wynda’s cold climate may have slowed the process. “Certainly Madam, I will check on your raiments momentarily.”

But then, just as she was leaving, Diana reverted to the woman he’d been speaking to before he tripped over his words. She even used his first name again. Disappointing clients kept Grieves up at night, but it was more than that now. He didn’t want to disappoint a friend. He couldn’t even remember the last friend he had that wasn’t a colleague. Diana would be the first since the beginning of his adult life, maybe even his first since he was a preteen come to think of it. He summoned all of the confidence he had in his soul to speak Diana’s name with the same amount of certainty he had whenever he called her Madam. “I shall bring a bottle of the local tavern’s finest along with your raiments when they are finished drying. I… find great pleasure in spending time with you, Diana.” Nailed it. “If I may be so bold to make a request of you, I’d ask that you never think otherwise.”

Diana hesitated a good while, just standing quietly there in the steam before finally answering. The words that hardly carried past her lips were almost trembling:

"I will try... Tyson."

Then she turned her heels and left without saying anything else or making as much as a tiny gesture to say farewell. Why? Well, something wasn't right with her tonight, something was really strange. See Diana was used to praise and compliments, but not the honest and personal kind she felt that she got from Tyson. So, that in combination with her already being distressed after what horrible things had happened earlier during the battle in the forest really had her feelings stir and mix on the inside. In short, she was in no state to handle all the feelings she felt, and that caused her to perhaps feel more than she would otherwise allow herself to do. And that was why she pretty much fled the scene, to avoid saying or doing something she would later regret.

And as such she left the sauna, clad in but a towel. Uncertain whether or not she could still see and treat Grieves as just her butler ever again.

"Hello!? Is anybody in here?!" Mordimort asked as she peered around the room, hoping none of the enemies had snuck inside to ambush any would-be shoppers. However, she found nothing of the sort, just a bandit of the legal variety. "Ava! Hi!" she waved to the woman, who seemed to be busy putting away some recent purchases.


However, Mordi's eyes were not drawn to Ava's boisterous bent over behind, as wonderful as it may be, they were drawn to a few of the shop's various goods! Yes indeed the young lady was already filled with ideas! "Oh! How quaint! I wonder what's for sale~!" the young lady giddily spoke as she skipped her way joyfully to the articles on display!


"Oh my... what's this I wonder?" she asked as she watched a small glass bird with a hat tip over and dip it's beak in a small glass of water, only to come right back up again! How marvellous! Oh! What's that? A brooch? Looks cheap though... But seems cute! "Oh oh! What's that?!" she jumped around to various things in the store, a blur of dark green and red.


She stopped when she came upon a large wooden mask from some placed called Aquilo, it had vibrant colors and plummage on it to! How wonderous! "Ava! Ava! Look at this! Have you seen such a thing?!"

"Hello!? Is anybody in here?!"Ava turned in her bent over position and glared at Mordi as she heard her voice. Ava was still set on lying about her involvement in her and Era's very presence, but that'd be quite difficult if the girl insisted on calling her by her name. "I thought I told you to stay with the--oh wait...that was the other one." The sales clerk was packaging up ingredients for Ava, and Ava was hurriedly putting them in an even bigger bag. There was a bag for the vulneraries and a bag for the ropes as well. Ava would have demanded the girl help carry one of the bags, but then they would definitely look like they were in cahoots with each other. "Still! Get out of here! Go to the other one by the carriage and lea-- what are you doing?" Ava stood up straight and her eyes widened as she spotted Mordi window shopping. "No!" Ava gasped dramatically as if she just saw someone preparing to have sex with a housecat. She watched in horror as Mordimort zipped around the store, feasting her eyes upon everything the store had to offer. "Your daughter's that old? Wow you look great!" The clerk asked curiously, remembering the woman had made a child abuse joke when she ordered the ropes. "She IS NOT my daughter, get back to work!" Ava demanded in a fit of total disgust


"Ava! Ava! Look at this! Have you seen such a thing?!" Ava approached the girl and took the mask from her. She pretended to study it for a moment, pushing up her glasses and squinting at the strange face. "Oh yes," she said after a while. "I've seen many things like this before. They're called 'useless'," Ava's voice was gentle, yet venomous. She set the mask back in its proper place and rested her hands on her hips. "Are you really window shopping despite the fact that you're broke??? You've got some nerve! Shopping is for people who can buy things! Everyone else should be out GETTING A JOB!"

"Well excuuuuuuuuse me!" Mordimort started as she got up in a huff, crossing her arms and stomping a foot upon the wooden floor. "You could never be my mother, more like a nagging old granny! Whats in the bag? medicine for your poor aching back? oooh you poor thing! My mother would snap you in two with just a swipe of her paw." Mordimort's sneer turned into a sharp toothed grin as she returned fire upon the older woman.


"But here you are telling me to get a job, when you yourself aim to abandon us without word or reason! Poor little children left in the cold rain and wind... I'm certain that would do wonders for your reputation around here wouldn't it?" The young woman wiggled a finger in Aa's face. "Indeed, I wonder what these lords would say about you if they returned home as well! 'She left those children to die! What a heartless monster!' they'd say, 'She should be executed for her cruelty!' they'd scream." she voiced the words that would be spoken about the woman.


Of course, she didn't know if thats what would actually happen...


"Besides, I'm no simple street urchin, I just happen to be a noblewoman! Herranow born and raised... However... your words do sing true on one part. I need work, and being around royalty isn't enough to fill my, and Era's, bellies." the young woman leaned forwards, looking the woman over with a discerning eye... She didn't look like she had a charitable bone in her body... best she break out the plan she was sitting on for awhile.


"I am not foolish enough to not know the worth of money, but I know one's reputation is worth it's weight and more in gold... That woman who came into the carriage, she was stricken with us the moment she laid eyes upon us. For good reason of course, I am a youthful beauty~!" she took a moment to giggle on that part, her grin now turning into a sneer towards the merchant before her... "So... through her, that woman whom is attached to the lord, or lords, I don't know yet. In return for your support... I shall sing your praise, how wonderful you treated us, such lost souls, how you told Era stories when he couldn't sleep, how you helped me when I was sick... So on, so forth."


"So, merchant in a new land... Whats your choice? Do you want to be seen as a benevolent saint? Or a greedy miser?" The young woman was quick with her words, but not without purpose, even as the shop keeper stared at them with her mouth slightly agape the young woman stood confident as the lioness she was...

Mordi's little rant had Ava feeling all kinds of fucked up. "You could never be my mother, more like a nagging old granny! Whats in the bag? medicine for your poor aching back? oooh you poor thing! My mother would snap you in two with just a swipe of her paw." Ava gasped dramatically with her hand over her mouth. "OOOOLD!?" She repeated, flabbergasted by the insult. "But here you are telling me to get a job, when you yourself aim to abandon us without word or reason! Poor little children left in the cold rain and wind... I'm certain that would do wonders for your reputation around here wouldn't it?" Ava's eyes shifted from left to right at mention of her reputation. She quickly tried to change the subject. "What does MY reputation have to do with YOU being broke!?" she asked, placing her fists on her hips. "Indeed, I wonder what these lords would say about you if they returned home as well! 'She left those children to die! What a heartless monster!' they'd say, 'She should be executed for her cruelty!' they'd scream." Ava folded her arms. "My, my, how soon we forget the favors I've done for you two! Insolent brats! Who made sure you two had something to eat every night aboard the ship, hmm? Who made sure you two didn't BURN ALIVE in the attack, hmm?! Who made sure you two were safe up to this point in a HOSTILE, FOREIGN COUNTRY, HMM!?" Ava's nose flew in the air.


Mordi started to bring up some legitimate points, though Ava didn't appreciate the girl attempting to blackmail her. Ava's eyelids lowered as she studied the girl's own eyes. A Herranese noble... Ava listened quietly and when the girl finished her spiel, a small smirk grew on Ava's face. "People like you are the reason I don't do favors." Ava tapped a finger against her arm. "You think you have me right where you want me, don't you? What makes you think your word weighs more than mine? What makes you think that foolish maid's word...weighs more than mine? She doesn't even serve the Prince!" Ava's smile grew and she chuckled poshly. "She's still in denial that a country's entire military wants our heads on a stick. That girl is humored by the Vicar, at best, no one else takes her seriously. So if that's your ace in the hole, you may want to reconsider biting the hand that feeds you. Besides, if I wanted to gain economic influence on this continent, I would have sold you all out the minute we were attacked in the port. I just want to go home, and I'm sure you want to see your beloved mother again. So perhaps you need to take a different approach."

"Oh? She doesn't even serve a prince hmm?" She was shaken by her sudden retort... but not stirred. Well, she was, stirred from her smugness at least, which in itself was... more or less a facade... no doubt the woman had a few up herself now. "Now why is it that she spoke so fondly.. so assured he'd listen to her words, I don't think you've wondered why he'd bring her to this strange land over somebody he TRULY trusts hmm? And I'll tell you, a hand that feeds only garners loyalty if it's held in kindness, not whatever you call 'getting out of trouble', you give charity to evade being seen as a slaver, had you have been kind, we would have admitted our faults, admitted our foolish ploy to join in this..." She sighed silently and frowned, her eyes looking to the ground.


"...This misadventure... anybody with eyes could see this coming, father was against it completely! So many tempting offers and yet the fools up top are so ignorant that they throw away all sides of caution to the wind and... BAH! I'm a young woman but I'm no damn fool, and even I could see this was a terrible idea by several stretches!" she commented on the very fact they were here, this whole plan was foolish... even her mother, a woman who was more asleep then awake these days, heard it and laughed at the very thought.


"...I'm sorry, I let my temper flare up, I understand you feel used and stuff, it's just... well... you gotta admit we haven't been the friendliest, either of us." she crossed her arms and shook her head, wracking her brain for whatever else she could say. "...Besides... even with my home being out of the way, even I heard rumors of that Vicar in the north. Him and his two maids... One exceedingly kind, the other one... I... can't quite remember what she was about. Anyways they are with him night and day, saying she isn't important to him is foolish! Hell I'm certain some smut literature is based off them... what is with Palenians and their trashy novels..."


The young woman thought about it for a moment and sighed. "Listen it's obvious you want rid of us, it's plain to see, but there is better ways we can do this without having a damned debate, for instance, handling a entire stock of whatever lords decide to stash and throw in is tiring work, not to mention foolish to do all alone, especially if you need to drive the wagon in the first place." she started and rose a finger skywards ticking it back and forth in thought.


"So, if you are willing, I shall assist you in such matters, I have gone through schooling, am a in training mage but have had top marks in my mathematics. I may not have much experience in selling and buying... as you have made absolutely clear, quite rudely might I add, but a second pair of eyes on things is a good way to prevent any enemy sticky fingers from grabbing goods... And I do have some aptitude in lifting bags and such if we must... my mother was quite the strong one I'll have you know." she smiled happily, seeming to hold her heritage quite highly... So much a soft purring could be heard as she thought of home.

Ava watched the girl struggle for footing in their bribing contest, an eyebrow slowly rising and her lips pursing. She knew that Lamont was only a third of the final word in this stupid little crew, and he'd more than likely give in to Rosa's pleas for the children to come along. And based off of the erotic Palenian novels she was ashamed to own, she couldn't help but hypothesize that Lamont would receive a special reward from the maid if she gave in. Still, she'd done something very illegal by not reporting the children's presence and she wasn't about to go under for it.


When Mordimort cooled down, Ava found that they at least agreed on something. "...This misadventure... anybody with eyes could see this coming, father was against it completely! So many tempting offers and yet the fools up top are so ignorant that they throw away all sides of caution to the wind and... BAH! I'd a young woman but I'm no damn fool, and even i could see this was a terrible idea by several stretches!" Ava nodded in agreement. "You'll hear no argument from me on that front!" Ava started to cool down as well now that the two of them had found some sort of common ground.


"...Besides... even with my home being out of the way, even I heard rumors of that Vicar in the north. Him and his two maids... One exceedingly kind, the other one... I... can't quite remember what she was about. Anyways they are with him night and day, saying she isn't important to him is foolish! Hell I'm certain some smut literature is based off them... what is with Palenians and their trashy novels..." Ava scoffed and suppressed a chuckle, clearing her throat and directing her mind away from Palenian smut and back to Mordimort as the girl struck up a sort of deal.


When Mordimort had finished speaking her peace, Ava, inhaled and then sighed. "I don't want to be rid of you. I'd much rather see the two you returned home, where you should have stayed. The problem is, I could get into a VERY sticky situation upon returning home if it is discovered that I aided the two of you in stowing away." Ava rubbed her chin. The prospect of having an assistant and guard for the carriage was tempting. And she was assuming this deal applied to the boy as well, and that Mordimort was merely the spokesperson. Plus, she couldn't help but feel like Mordimort had taken her advice in seeking a job, whether she knew it or not, and to Ava, that was like a Palenian smut scene for her ego. Ava extended her hand. "You and the boy will help me manage and protect the carriage. You will mention nothing of my assistance prior to today. In return I will see to it that you two are fed and cared for as any other member of the Assembly until we return to Neth. Do we have a deal?"

Mordimort gave it a small thought... It was... pretty good actually, better then how they were thats for certain, and now they have a chance to have some common ground with Ava. She wasn't certain that Era would follow her in this, but... hey! maybe she got the eye of one of those lords!


"Agreed, I'm certain Era will come along with it, kind of like my new little brother~! Never had a brother, only sisters.. all older then me... Damn them... And damn my father for never making a boy, just what kind of luck does he have?" she sighed and looked the woman over one last time... How old was Ava...? Was she married? if so.. why'd she bother coming here? why not laze about and get fat?


...Fatter anyways. (*air horns*)


"Sorry for pulling the age card by the by, shouldn't have touched that, it was rude of me." she apologized for her earlier remark and looked towards the bags. "So, first job i'd imagine? It'd be a pain to take them all in alone thats for certain." she walked over and tested one of the bags first. "Besides, think of it this way, the more we're around, the more that woman will bake. And don't you tell me she doesn't cook well I've tasted her goods not a minute before the battle."

"Agreed, I'm certain Era will come along with it, kind of like my new little brother~! Never had a brother, only sisters.. all older then me... Damn them... And damn my father for never making a boy, just what kind of luck does he have?" Ava rolled her eyes snidely commented, "I asked you to work for me, I did not ask for your life story. Your father's inability to pass down his family name means very... very little to me." Now that all of the business was settled it was time to put the girl to work.


"Sorry for pulling the age card by the by, shouldn't have touched that, it was rude of me." Ava brushed off the apology with a dismissive wave. "It was the most your juvenile little mind could come up with, I'm sure." She responded as if that counted as a statement of forgiveness. "Besides, you aren't truly sorry." Ava adjusted her hat as a small triumphant smile formed on her face. "No, you won't be truly sorry until you're my age and you don't look half as good as I do," Ava informed her vainly. This would be the beginning of her famous anti-aging pitch. There was one thing Ava knew about young girls: they all wished their beauty would last forever. That's why they always called out older women for it when they were being put in their place. Some were too young to realize it, but Ava was manipulative enough to get most of them thinking about the future. She watched Mordimort experiment with lifting one of the bags. When the girl brought up Rosa's treats, Ava placed a hand up to her lips and giggled knowingly. "Yes, you're going to be quite the wide one when you get to be my age. I suppose you'll have Rose to thank for that."

Grieves


Time: First Night of the Blue Rose


Location: Kitchen of the Blue Rose


Interacting With: Rose @theglassangel


Support Level: --

Meeting everyone in the port before boarding was surprising for Grieves. He'd expected Diana to be the youngest member of the Assembly, and found it strange that the President would send her in the first place. But apparently, the Pontifex saw it fit to not only send his young son, but to only send him with an even younger maid and a thin swordsman. He'd been expecting the Vicar to arrive with a gaggle of the most powerful mages that Palenia had to offer.


The maid was particularly plucky and volunteered once the crew had boarded to cook dinner for not only the first night, but to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner every subsequent day before hurrying off to the kitchen. And with a furrowed brow, Grieves followed behind her and introduced himself in the kitchen. "I am Tyson Grieves, but you need only address me as Grieves. I will oversee you in the kitchen to ensure that each meal is to Madam Dusette's taste palette, which I believe you will find to be more than adequate for all other crew members." Grieves stated with a bow. With the attempts on Diana's life, part of Grieves' job was to make sure she wasn't poisoned. In order to do his job correctly, he had to assume that this cutesy maid with her warm smile and innocent eyes was merely wearing a mask to cover up her true cold, calculating, and murderous nature.


Once he'd properly introduced himself, Grieves pulled a white apron off of the rack and pulled it on over his uniform. It was too small and made him look pretty ridiculous but it didn't seem to phase him in the slightest. He rolled up his sleeves, folded his hands behind his back, and monitored the maid's every action by standing directly behind her, towering over the maid, and studying her vegetable chopping technique. "Hm..." a low, gutteral, and judgmental hum came from his chest before he critiqued her. "You're cutting a tad bit too thick, wouldn't you agree?"






Truthfully, she was excited to meet all her new "roommates". Everyone was so nice to her... or so she thought. Other than the people from Fuccino, everyone was relatively nice to her. I mean, who would ever be mean to someone like Rosalia? Upon boarding the ship, she had tears all over her face as she waved goodbye to all of her maids. Rose volunteered to cook all of the meals, as she was afraid the butler of Fuccino would over-exert himself or cut himself with the kitchen knives. As soon as everyone boarded, Rose had a bright, green-eyed smile on the face, and handed out cookies to anyone that asked. The maiden wondered where the rest of the cookies went... the white haired explorer did seem like a big fan of the desserts. She didn't pay much attention to that, though.


Rosalia wanted to make sure that everyone was okay for the ship ride. She had heard horrible things about seasickness. Not that she would've known until now. Luckily, most people on the ship seemed fine. Even still, no one seemed to know why a maid that had never traveled anywhere in her life came along for a potentially life threatening trip. The answer: her cooking. Even though she cooked desserts the best, Rose was pretty well rounded, though, you could always tell whenever it was her cooking because it didn't matter what she was cooking. Why? Rose's food always had a light, yet sweet aftertaste to it.


The whole reason why the butler had to be there, hovering over her and not cooking confused her. Rosa was never known as someone that got very scared often. She was more scared of a spider than a 6 foot something man judging her cooking. Today, she decided to cook a hearty vegetable stew. Rosalia was actually cutting small hearts for the stew. "Too thick, you mean these veggie hearts?" Rosa asked, wearing her apron that was actually a bit looser on her. The hearts were made of sliced potatoes and carrots while the large loaf of bread was cut into a larger heart. "B-But if they're not big enough, it won't be filled with love~" Looking at his stern face, she pouted.

"Too thick, you mean these veggie hearts?" Grieves nodded solemnly. "Mm." The next thing to come out of Rosalia's mouth caught him highly off guard. "B-But if they're not big enough, it won't be filled with love~" An eyebrow shot upward and Grieves' pupils flicked from left to right and for once, he couldn't properly articulate his words. "Um...excuse me?" he asked with a scoff in an attempt to hold back laughter. Looking into the girl's eyes, he cocked his head and couldn't help but let a small smile grow on his face. There was an undeniable innocence in her words, tone, and eyes, despite the fact that it made literally no sense and a man without class could have easily twisted her words into something more lewd than she intended. Or at least, he thought she hadn't intended to come off that way. Part of him knew that this could all be an act and the girl could still very well be a cold blooded killer... but his intuition said quite the opposite. "Is that so?" He humored the girl. "Well, we certainly wouldn't want that, now would we? I ask that you'd forgive my ignorance." Grieves gave the girl a small bow, and though the veggies were still too thick for his liking, Chef Grieves would let it slide. "Perhaps I should begin a side dish to accompany your...lovely stew?"




"Mhm! It is so, Grieves~ My Lord likes them thick, you see!" Rose cheerfully exclaimed, chopping the vegetables with a certain happy air about her. "Oh yes, yes, yes! I would love that very much! I'm Rosalia Rotavelle of Palenia and I plan to give my love out to the crew~" She smiled as the maid introduced herself. The poor maid spouting unintentional innuendos was a regular happening back in Palenia. Even the most disciplined of mages couldn't contain their laughter to Rose's confusion. It soon after became Lamont's personal duty to make sure Rosa's innocence was never corrupted.


Putting the seasoning on the hearts and buttering the heart bread, she sliced the bread, thick as she liked it and put them onto plates. The seasoned hearts were later placed on the soup, stirring it as it cooked every so often. Wafting her dainty hand on top of the pot, she sighed. Warm, and comforting. The ingredients for the meringues were off to the side. Desserts were always her favourite part of dinner.... so what if..? "Mister Grieves, would you mind if I cook dessert?"

"..." Rosalia's words ran through Grieves' head as he stood there silently studying the maid with a perplexed frown on his face. She was two for two now with this whole "love" business and Grieves was beginning to suspect that love was indeed her business. Surely the Vicar wouldn't have brought a prostitute with him as his aid? It wouldn't be the strangest thing he's known a Lord to do involving a prostitute, and if Palenian literature was anything to go off of...the people up north liked getting down and dirty. Grieves had always thought those books were just pious and conservative people finding an outlet to express their more base desires. And he wasn't one to judge but..."...How do you intend on... 'spreading your love', Lady Rosalia?" the butler asked cautiously.


He kept Rosa in his peripheral vision and worked next to her on his side dish. What was it? Pull-Apart Cheese Bread. A large walk in fridge had been designed specifically for the Blue Rose to preserve some of their food. I know what you're thinking. Fire Emblem? Refrigerator? How? With magic of course. It was simply a large wooden box surrounded by blue jewels and magical text written in Blue Ink all over it's walls. The gems radiated Ice Magic and thus, bam, magical refrigerator known as an Ice Box. Eventually the blue jewels powering the grand achievement of magical engineering would de-power and need to be replaced, but that's what the shipwright was for. This was the largest Ice Box Grieves had ever seen; it was intended to hold food for their entire journey. Basically this entire paragraph is so these fuckers can have cheese and other shit.


Grieves selected an artisan loaf of bread and cut several lines through it, but not all the way through. He turned the bread to cut perpendicular lines into it, breaking up the bread into little pluckable squares. As he grated several different cheeses into a bowl, Rosalia asked him if she could handle dessert. She still hadn't managed to make Grieves not sus, in fact, he was a little more sus than when he came in but that was mostly from him being unable to take Rosalia for who she was at face value. "Just 'Grieves' is fine Lady Rosalia, no 'Mister' is required. I have no qualm with you cooking dessert. If it's anything like the scrumptious cookies you prepared for us, then I'm sure the crew will be in for a treat. Would you mind terribly if I watched you at work? I would be most grateful to study your technique."




Rose looked at him, confused. How could he not know how she could spread her love? Rosalia gave him her signature blank stare, communicating her confusion. "W-What do you mean, sir? Spreading love is the best thing anyone can do! Don't you find joy in helping people, with cooking, cleaning, defending your Lord and Goddess? You're giving someone a smile on their face~" She smiled as an adorable example, playfully touching her dimples with her index finger at the same time. Of course, she had no idea of prostitutes or of the smut that was so prevalent in Palenia. There was one time in the marketplace when scantily clad women in a seedy little building asked if she would like some love. Her innocence had been saved that day once Maria, one of the older maids had grabbed her wrists and taken her away. "Bless her soul..." Was what rang throughout the maid's chambers that day.


But I digress. "Thank you, Grieves! In return, you may refer to me as Rose, Rosa or simply Rosalia~ Oh Goddess, I'm flattered... a fellow chef complimenting another!" The maiden clapped her hands together as the butler cooked. "I am sure the side will be just as tasty! But of course, you can learn the Palenian way of dessert making!" A bowl was in front of her, as she cracked the yolks into the bowl, extracting the egg whites into a larger mixing bowl. Rosalia whisked them well. "Now, my favourite part... the sugar~ My Lord never likes it when I give him too much sugar, but I just can't seem to help myself sometimes..." Rose mischievously giggled. Though, not for the reason you would expect. The maiden knew full well that Lamont loved her cooking, however, they were the result he sported the occasional muffintop from time to time. But that was where the distinct sweet aftertaste that came from everything she cooked. Rosa had the special talent of adding sugar in every dish and still making it taste good. A useless ability, but an ability indeed!


Pinching small amounts of sugar as she whisked away her egg whites, she threw in small amounts every so often. "Grieves, why did you decide to be a chef?" Rose asked.

The maid and the butler shared a moment of miscommunication as they stared at each other, each with their own brand of confused facial expression. Rosa clarified what she meant, and it sounded like an answer a Care Bear would give. Too sweet and too impossibly kind to be real. It had to be a front, this girl was a stone cold killer. She had to be. The Vicar brought along a hooded swordsman who looked rather dangerous, and Grieves himself had witnessed quite a few "sweet but fucking deadly" maids in his time. Hell, that's most young maids in Fuccino. Still. At least she wasn't a prostitute. That'd be highly unprofessional. Grieves didn't return her smile and merely gave her a stoic answer. "I'm afraid I don't worship the Goddess as you do. And I've only been hired to serve Madam Dusette for the duration of the trip. Other than that, yes, I suppose I do... derive joy from my work."


Grieves sprinkled various herbs into his grated cheese mix before spreading the cheese through the crevices of the sliced loaf, all the while glancing at Rosa pretending to be studying her cooking techniques, but really he was just making sure none of her ingredients included fucking poison. He paid special attention to her hands. She had many variations of her name, and as always, Grieves had silently chosen to call her by her full name, Rosalia. He nodded along as Rosalia spoke. "Surplus amounts of sugar? That is quite the simple secret. Is that perhaps where all of the love is contained?" Grieves asked curiously as if he were actually intrigued, but he was actually just being sassy in his own 'polite butler' kind of way. Grieves finished preparing his cheesy bread and placed it into an oven, or, a Hot Box, which operated in a similar fashion to the Ice Box except in a smaller space and with red gems instead of blue.


"Grieves, why did you decide to be a chef?" the maid asked as she continued her dish. Grieves kept time in his head for the bread and stood behind Rosa with his arms behind his back, overlooking her as she cooked. "Hm?" he thought about the question for a bit before deciding on an answer. "It began as a method to expand my utility for my employers. But then I discovered that I am quite fond of culinary arts. Perhaps even if I were not a butler, I might experiment in the kitchen should such a hypothetical version of myself have the free time to do so. And what of you? How did you become a maid?"




"I am glad you derive joy from your work~" The emerald eyed woman smiled playfully and imitated his uptight manner of speech. Rose then cluelessly hummed to herself, paying no attention to Grieves' suspicion. Besides, did Rosalia particularly care about the fact that she sounded like a carebear? Sadly, that is what the butler of Fuccino must do. Deal with Rosa's... carebearness. Continuing to whisk the mixture, the egg whites still weren't fluffy. With her dainty hands, it took her longer than most to do the labour part of cooking, as much as she enjoyed it.


Rosalia nodded. "Of course! I learned this from a chef in Loris. Sugar is an artform, and even I cannot fully master it. Some say that in Loris, chefs put sugar into just about every dish and it still manages to enhance instead of clash with their cooking. I plan to put sugar into everything, so that the world becomes just a bit sweeter~" If the maiden didn't sound like a carebear before, this was just about even sweeter, no pun intended. Still, Rosalia hoped to master the art of sugar. Even if she was young, the petite maid was still considered to be skilled.


As Grieves answered her question and added a new one, here's a surprise for you. When it comes to Rose talking about tragedy, you'll find that she just about lets it all out. There isn't a point of keeping it in, and it made the maiden rather pure this way. As well, Rose was also a very bad liar, some would come to find. "Well, my family was on good terms with the Vicar's. We weren't poor, but we weren't nobles either, so it was known that I was raised well. My mother and father died on one of the exploration trips to the East, so the Pontifex took care of me and that is where I met my Lord! I learned how to cook and clean soon after. I was asked by my Lord to accompany him to the West, to which I agreed. I fear it might be dangerous, but as long as I am with my Lord, I will be okay~" Rose smiled, oddly cheerful at the fact that she had nonchalantly told him of her life story, only leaving out the whole "kidnapped by a cult" thing.

Though her verbal methods seemed less than savory (pun intended), upon watching the maid, Grieves had to admit to himself that she wasn't totally devoid of technique. But visual technique could fool any master chef. Grieves was reserving his judgment for the taste test. "I must admit, I have not dined in Loris, though I have heard that Lorisian chefs are revered for perfecting the finest Palenian delicacies. I suppose I will see for myself." That was Grieves' way of saying "bitch u can't put sugar in errthang." At the end of the day though, Grieves preferred that she put sugar in her cooking as opposed to poison. Unless...the sugar was poison! By The All... this taste test would be especially important then. Perhaps in the short time that he'd worked for her, it would be his final service to Madam Dusette.


Grieves' answer to Rose's question of his career choice was contained. He'd only mentioned what he thought she needed to know without boring her with the personal details. And though he thought she would do the same, she very much did the opposite. The death of one's parents was nothing to bat an eye at, especially since Grieves' really only had love for his mother and father. "Forgive me for asking, Lady Rosalia." Despite standing behind her, Grieves bowed out of habit. He attempted to change the subject rather quickly. "Surely the Vicar chose you to accompany him for combat purposes as well? My own abilities were certainly an important factor for the President when I was selected to serve Madam Dusette. Though I must admit, all of my combat experience has been contained to fighting for sport... I've never fought in circumstances under life or death."




Rosalia was distracted again, thinking back to the days of meringues and cakes from all colours of the rainbow that seemed to do a light ballroom dance in her tongue. Roses made of white chocolate with light pink frosting... Rose wondered if she would ever be able to taste it ever again. Then his apology had brought the young maiden back to reality. "O-Oh no, please, do not worry. I wouldn't have told you if it wasn't okay~" She chirped, absentmindedly stirring. It had really been a long time since her parents had passed away. Rose remembered that day, with tears down her face and eating nothing but her parents' favourite pastries, or just... nothing at all. The Pontifex and his Vicar were kind men, treating her well. Besides, she felt the kindest thing they could've done was taken her onto this adventure... right?


That was when the butler asked her of combat. Oh, how, it nauseated her to think about. Her mantra was repeated over and over in her head. Knives are for cooking, not hurting people! She thought. "I don't think he has, Sir." Rose shook her head, her lip quivering at the thought of hurting someone. Realizing the next steps, the maid put the meringues where the heat boxes would be and joined them with the soup, adding seasoning and yes, sugar, to the latter. "Of course.. I am trained to... But I would prefer if I didn't. T-The way I got to serving my Lord was only a matter of circumstance and not necessarily skill, though I would like to think I had some too~" Rose gently stirred the pot with the stew as she waited for the desserts. "I couldn't possibly imagine fighting in either of those situations. I am quite hard to hit, I suppose. I leave the... defense to some of the other servants. My Lord is also quite powerful, servants are supposed to protect their Lord, but it always is the other way around, to my dismay..." She pouted.


Finally, the meringues were done! Now... the soup still needed some work as it cooled. "Sir Grieves, would you mind tasting both meals I have prepared they've cooled down, please?" She asked, politely.

The maid was chipper yet...strangely open, much like reading a book. Grieves couldn't be sure if this was genuine behavior, or if she was attempting to throw him off her scent by revealing personal information (which could easily be fabricated) and by coming off as ditsy and harmless. So in order to gauge where her loyalties stood, Grieves baited her into taking a light oath. "Though we serve different masters, I believe it would behoove the both of us to behave as if all three of our representatives are our responsibility. Surely Madam Dusette will take priority for me, and as will the Vicar for you, but should we run into trouble of any variety while visiting Satrella, you can count on me to defend your lord as I would my lady." Grieves wasn't lying in the slightest, he fully intended on keeping the relationships between Palenia, Fuccino, and Herranow strong. He viewed his own competence as a representation of Fuccino as well, and would make Diana look even better among her peers.


When the meringues finished, Grieves took Rosa up on her offer. "Certainly Lady Rosalia." He was going to taste test them anyway should Diana decide she wants one. Of course he couldn't taste them all so he merely planned on shaving a piece off of them if Rosa offered Diana a specific cookie. He delicately took a bite out of the fluffy looking pastry. As he'd expected, it was sweet as hell, but overall, it was delicious! "Absolutely scrumptious, Lady Rosalia," he said once he'd swallowed his first bite. Then he finished that fuckin' cookie yo.




Rosa didn't hesitate to respond. Serving everyone, not just her Lord, was a duty! "Of course, as a young maiden, I plan to serve all of the Assembly to the best of my ability~" She nodded, a fiercely loyal look in her eyes. "Servicing people is just what I do!" Prepare for another tangent. "In a place like Palenia, it is normal for most people to be able to serve as well as fight. We are in fact more of a traditional country, but I love it with all my heart." Rose said, quite wistfully.


Already, she was feeling it bit homesick. "I don't know what I would do if I wasn't serving or helping anyone. Maybe I would teach children to cook?" She shook her head, as if to shake away her thoughts. "I know how it feels to have a bond with a Lord. I do not know what I would do without the Vicar... I assume it would resemble the sensation of missing something you never realized you needed~" Again, she was lost in thought.


When Grieves complimented her meringues, her eyes immediately lit up. "R-Really? Thankyouthankyouthankyou~" Rosalia squealed in happiness. It was always a nice pick-me-up when a fellow chef complimented her cooking. It was like a form of art to her. The soup she had been stirring had finally been finished. With a small spoon, she lifted the meal to her lips. "I think this is cool enough to consume now... would you like to try some?"

Gauging the maid's loyalty to the rest of the Assembly was a tough call. Though she seemed very genuine, as if she was speaking from the heart, Grieves still couldn't be sure if she was just a talented actress. Being overprotective was his job. So long as he couldn't trust the maid, he'd have to keep an eye on her, along with all the Palenians, Herranese, hell, even the Fuccinians on board weren't off the hook. In fact if anything, whoever made an attempt on Diana's life was more likely to be Fuccinian than not.


There was a disconnect between them however. Rosa went beyond loyalty toward the Vicar, it seemed that she was dependent on him. He'd never met a servant in Fuccino who felt the same way, and he was no different. "On the contrary Lady Rosalia. Madam Dusette and I are bound by duty, and nothing more. Once we've returned to Fuccino, if she sees no further utility of my services, then I will simply be hired by another liege. I have lived most of my life without serving her, and I will continue to do so upon dismissal. Until then, I will serve her as I have served my other masters. With pride and diligence. And I will replicate this treatment for the Vicar and the Prince when possible." To Grieves, it sounded like Rosalia's relationship with the Vicar went far beyond duty. He shuddered at the thought of being so attached to anyone he'd worked for previously.


Grieves nodded along to Rose's gratitude but found himself not wanting to finish the meringue. Sure it was good but he'd never had much of a sweet tooth himself. They tend to upset his stomach. However, it would be rude not to, so he sucked it up and finished off the last few bites while pulling out his side dish. He delicately plucked a piece of cheesy bread from the loaf and tried it himself. Above satisfactory, he thought to himself proudly, and then nodded to Rosalia. He took a wooden spoon of his own and made sure to get one, yes exactly one, of each ingredient in the soup on it. This took a while of course, but when he finally did and he finally tasted it, he chewed for a moment, as if he was studying every morsel one at a time. When he finally swallowed he announced, "Quite satisfactory, Lady Rosalia. As I suspected, the vegetables are cut a tad too thick." He delicately dabbed at his lips with a napkin and repeated, "Nonetheless, quite satisfactory indeed." He gestured to his side dish and out of pure courtesy offered, "You may have a taste if you wish."


Grieves began to gather bowls, stacking two tall towers and somehow managing to balance each in his palm with what looked like little effort. "Come Lady Rosalia. Let us set the tables and prepare to serve the others. They should come looking for their first meal shortly." He gently pressed his shoulder against the swinging door leading to the galley open and added before leaving, "I am looking forward to your next dish Lady Rosalia."

It was a long day and a good hunt. He had woken up in sunset after dispatching with his gang of misfit Laguz. They quickly said goodbye and the two had set off in their separate ways. Whenever he was alone, he liked to reflect on his life. How did he even get into Wynda? No one knows. Lirim was simply wandering as usual, what he had heard was that the mountain ranges were spectacular, not so much that there was a rebellion. He swore that if he had ever met a rebel, Lirim would help them out in any way he could. To the nomad's knowledge, the reason Laguz and Manakete were so reluctant to help him was because of Tarosi slavers taking away their stones. Unbelievable how people could just take away other's freedoms. Again, he didn't even understand why they stood with their alliance when Lirim knew they were against Taros. Why not leave if you have a problem with that? He wondered.


He had caught some winter rabbits for the day. It had to be enough to supply him with a full day meal. Lirim rested upon a tall tree with a cooked rabbit and a lit fire to the side. His horse feasted on dried grass and melted snow. Although he preferred warmer temperatures, there was a certain charm about a perpetual winter. Hearing a rustle in the leaves, he spotted a fellow wanderer. At least, he thought so. "My fellow wanderer, would you like some cooked rabbit?" He asked.




Roth


Location: Whispering Woods


Time: Afternoon before Ch. 2


Kickin' It With: Lirim @theglassangel

"The hunt never ends." Roth grumbled his mantra throughout the day. He said it whenever he had to push through the pain: fatigue, wounds, and...hunger. That last one was what had Roth in a piss poor mood today, hunger. It was his own fault, he'd made the mistake of looking his breakfast, a loan doe and her young, in the eye. He couldn't bring himself to kill a mother in front of her child or a child in front of her mother, so he purposefully scared them off with an enraged growl. As a result, he'd eaten nothing all day, and he'd become grumpier than normal with every passing hour. I guess sometimes, the hunt does end.


But deer aren't exactly Roth's game. Orcs were his genocidal obsession, and his hatred of them motivated his every action. He was following their trail via footprints and droppings. He could tell that the gaggle of bastards he was hunting was on the larger side, but Roth had no fucks to give. "The hunt never ends," he reminded himself quietly as he followed the trail. The scent of fire and cooking meat wafted into his nostrils. Orcs are known to use fires to cook meat, although they never manage to do a thorough job of it, disgusting fucks. Roth readied his javelin as he crept toward the smell. He could hear the fire crackling on the other side of some foliage...heart racing, adrenaline pumping, holding his breath, he burst through the leaves!...Only to find a regular fellow chillin' with his horse and cookin' rabbits.


"My fellow wanderer, would you like some cooked rabbit?" Roth blushed with embarrassment and let himself breathe for a moment. He probably looked an awful lot like a bandit comin' in hot with his spear raised and shit. Roth stuck the weapon in the ground, folded his arms and furrowed his eyebrow. "You don't have to bribe me. I'm not here to hurt you," Roth assured him. He figured that was the only reason why the man was offering him food. "I thought you might be something else," Roth's low and rocky voice sounded highly disappointed, and very withdrawn. The smell of cooking meat was quite enticing, especially since he hadn't eaten all day. His stomach audibly growled, voicing its disagreement with Roth's refusal.




Lirim listened to Roth feeling flustered. That was the thing with fighters, the shock on their faces when you weren't going to put an arrow in their neck was just priceless. The nomad shot him a boyish grin as he held the rabbit in his hand, almost waving it over the elf's nose. "Bribe you? I can't have too much to eat, or else Azha wouldn't be useful to me anymore, isn't that right?" He pointed to his horse, dark brown and adorned in Sietic jewelry and desert fabrics. Braids ran down the horse's mane and ended with beads, much like Lirim.


"Just take it, my friend, I insist." Lirim laughed and yawned, throwing him the rabbit. He might have hunted a bit too much at once, it was almost scaring him the amount of rabbits. Hopefully, another stray hunter would come across a tasty treat. "Something else? What exactly do you mean? Are you calling me some sort of cyclops?" Lirim noticed his disappointed voice, though he didn't question it. Maybe Roth had accused him of being game. He sat down, patting a dry spot and beckoning him to sit. "Don't lie to a fellow brother, I am not deaf." He teased lightheartedly. "Tell me, what is your name and your business in the Whispering Woods?" He asked. Lirim's tone wasn't suspicious or guarded in the slightest, but curious as he said each word in between bites of cooked game.

Roth studied the man's belongings, wondering what an archer so obviously Ifrinic was doing on this side of Wynda. Perhaps a mercenary? Perhaps a member of the Alliance who had deserted? He was wary, elves stood on confusing ground with the Alliance. He knew that the more human you looked, the better. High Elves generally got special treatment from humans, but green, purple, blue, hell, sometimes even golden or red skin was often too alien for other elves to be fully accepted. Still, this man was offering him free food and it was too tempting for Roth to say know. The man apparently sensed this and tossed rabbit over to him. Roth's reflexes allowed him to catch it before his brain even processed that he did. "Hmph." Roth grunted and took a seat, watching him out of the side of his eye as he prevented himself from ravenously devouring the rabbit. Table manners, man. He took small, polite, and awkward bites of the meal.


The man got a small laugh out of Roth with the Cyclops comment. "I count two many eyes for you to be a cyclops," Roth held up two fingers to accent his epic pun game. Roth swallowed a bite and wiped his mouth before he answered the rest of the archer's questions. The Elf studied the archer for a moment, his features somewhat softened. Brother? He cleared his throat and announced, "I am Roth, and my enemy lies not with the Tarosians, your people, or the Wyndans. People aren't my problem. The war we should be fighting... is a war on Orcs!" Roth growled, the very word made his blood boil. "I hunt them wherever they may go, and I won't stop until I've killed each and every one of those foul monstrosities!" Roth took a bite of the rabbit and pointed a few feet away. "Do you see those indentations over there? It's a trail. I've been following it all day and I won't rest until I've found them and I've bathed the soil in their blood." Roth set down the rabbit for a moment and gruffly asked, "And what of you, hunter? Aren't you a little...far from home?"




Lirim was surprisingly good at reading people. The way the man sat down to the way he looked at the archer. The signs of a guarded brother. Sadly, he knew why. In Ifrin, tribes of elves/Laguz/branded/any marginalized race were hostile against humans and for good reason. Tensions have been getting higher in his home country and it took much longer for the man to gain trust amongst them. Eventually, Lirim would help tribes fight off the Alliance, and then he would leave. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise as he nearly spat out his bite of rabbit. He laughed at Roth's lame pun, and a bit too loudly in fact. Lirim heard rustling in the trees as startled animals began to fly away. "You are too funny, my brother!" The nomad exclaimed, wiping a stray tear from his eye.


The lighthearted laughter soon stopped as he saw Roth's face turn serious. Why did he start talking about his enemies right away? What did the man have against orcs? Well, who didn't have anything against any monsters? Lirim believed that anything that was out to hunt humanity as a whole was something that as already beyond cooperating such as orcs. He wasn't the type to hunt monsters out of sport, but Lirim did appreciate people who did. The general rule was, a monster that was out to hurt anyone else would receive an arrow to the heart. Still, Lirim didn't judge how intense Roth's hatred of orcs was.


"I am Lirim of the Wanderers." Lirim sat back, leaning against the tree. "It's quite natural to leave and split up to other countries. I don't particularly have a reason for being here, though exotic Ifrinic spices sell well in Wynda if you are not aligned to the Empire, which I am not. I do not align with any sort of Resistance or Alliance, I am simply me. And I am simply here." He leaned back, sharpening some of his arrows. "Although, being simply me can be a bit lonely and purposeless, and I would like to think that I am a generous person. Tell me, brother, may I join you on your hunt?"

Along with the animals fleeing the scene, Roth was surprised by Lirim's reaction to his golden joke about Cyclopes. He jumped a bit at the man's laughter, but found his fear quickly dissipating into pride and joy. In all of his time on Earth, he wasn't sure if he'd ever managed to make anyone laugh that hard. He himself began to laugh, albeit nervously. Roth's joy was short lived and was replaced with his default seething rage as he explained what he'd been doing in the woods in the first place.


Slowly but surely, Roth's rage was replaced with curiosity, and then fascination as he listened to Lirim. The way the archer made it sound, everything was so simple. And Roth could relate. Ever since he'd begun to conceive of leaving the military he'd found that the politics of nations rarely had the best interests of the common man at heart. Though he wasn't a fan of the Alliance, after all they'd been the catalyst that caused him to leave the military in the first place, the Resistance had yet to earn his favor as well. He was of the opinion that no matter who came to rule they would put their personal agendas above the needs and wants of the people. Roth was ecstatic when the archer offered to help him slay orcs.


"If you seek purpose, I can assure you that exterminating Orcs is as about as high as they come," Roth informed him rather proudly. "Unlike people, their evil natures are far more apparent. Lirim of the Wanderers, I am not adverse to letting others join me in my cause. But I've seen the weak of heart meet their bloody end on the blade of crudely crafted Orcish weaponry." Roth took another bite of his rabbit and looked away to avoid a seafood situation as he spoke with a full mouth. "I've learned to steel my guilt, but I still feel it necessary to warn you: Orcs are ruthless. They have the civility of a wrathful drunken brute. If you choose to accompany me, your potential death will be on your hands, and yours alone. Though I feel it's better to die for a noble cause than for the benefit of faceless royals."




Lirim listened intently to the elf. At least he has a purpose. He was envious still that he had not found his own. Did Wanderers do nothing but... wander? Wandering, by a textbook definition meant to drift from one place to another without conscious intent or control. Was that not what the archer did to get him to Wynda. However, Lirim was a kind man. At least he could get some purpose from fulfilling others. "I am glad you have a purpose, brother." He smiled, taking bites that weren't too big or small and chewed thoughtfully.


"My brother, I do hope you're not underestimating my abilities, I'm quite sensitive, you know~" He responded teasingly. "There's only one way to find out if I am truly cut out for this. However, considering I survived so far just with Azha and I, that should speak volumes, no?" Lirim looked admiringly at his mount, petting her rather affectionately. He looked again at Roth, but really looked at him.


What Lirim saw was a proud, yet guarded face. Someone quite roguish and battle-worn. I mean, who wears battle paint unless you really have no chill? Roth did need someone to help him relax. "Hmmm... I have a challenge for you, brother." A smile crept up his face. He grabbed an extra rabbit and set it on top of a bush. "If I hit the eye of that rabbit, I shall join you on your journey. You can make up whatever circumstance you want if I lose. Whatever you want~" He repeated himself for emphasis, looking forward to what Roth could come up with.

Lirim wasn't wrong, coming this far to Wynda from Ifrin was no easy task. Well, assuming Lirim started in Ifrin. Still, Roth wasn't sure if he knew what he was getting into. Of course, this is because Roth looks at Orcs as the absolute worst thing to ever be created, so he could go a little overboard when describing how dangerous they are. Especially since he lived solely to kill Orcs...talking about them as if they were hyper dangerous also fueled his ego. But who could refuse help when fighting the monstrosities? The more Orc Hunters there were in the world, the better. So he'd already planned on accepting the man's assistance...or talking him into it if he chickened out.


However, Lirim instead offered Roth a challenge, and knowing Roth, he wasn't going to back down from a challenge. He watched the archer place the rabbit on top of the bush curiously. "If I hit the eye of that rabbit, I shall join you on your journey. You can make up whatever circumstance you want if I lose. Whatever you want~" That last bit sounded awfully suggestive, and the light shade of pink burning under Roth's green skin reflected how it had effected him. "Th-The eye?" he asked for confirmation, turning away from Lirim to look at the rabbit. That was certainly a small target to hit. "You're either a cocky bastard or an exceptionally skilled bastard. Either way will be entertaining for me. I accept your challenge. But no tricks!" Roth stood up and walked across the small clearing they stood in. "Your bow is made to fire farther than average! So you have to shoot from here!" Roth folded his arms and grinned. "Still think you can do it?"




Lirim nodded. "The rabbit's eye, my brother." Nope, he wasn't one to bluff, if Lirim could hit a moving target with a horse moving at quicker speeds, then he could most certainly hit a stationary rabbit. Especially with a longbow. "They're not mutually exclusive, you'll come to find. For many a journey I have met both cocky and exceptionally skilled bastards. While I can be characterized as some by my enemies, I do not wish to be your enemy, quite the contrary. I do not have many enemies, so that will not be a problem, hunter." Lirim had a weird way of thinking, most foreigners would find. It was quite lax and simple, but gave off an air of someone with an old soul.


He held his hands high in the air, longbow in hand. "No tricks, my brother." Smiling, he took a few deep breaths. Squinting his eyes close, he shot. "Aha, we'll have orc for dinner, Roth!" The archer shouted, almost enthusiastically. His arrow shot from the clearing he was standing near. To clarify, he lifted the rabbit into the air. The arrow hadn't just shot into its eye, but it's iris, the center-most part of the eye.


Feeling like he still wanted to have fun before the hunt... Lirim had another proposition. "Now... for the actual game~" Going back to the clearing, he shot haphazardly. This time, the arrow only landed on the rabbit's nose. "I have lost fair and square, my brother. Tell me, what will you have with me?~" He smirked. Out of nowhere, the nomad had found a loophole. Even though he had said that if he landed the arrow to the eye, he would join them on their hunt. However, he never mentioned if it was the actual challenge of wins or losses. Therefore, he never mentioned losing and landing a hit on the rabbit to be mutually exclusive...

The human sure did have a confusing way of saying things. That was all Roth could think about for a moment as he deciphered the Infrinic man's words, only to find a simpler way communicating what he was trying to say. "Could've just said you're both." It was mysterious and frustrating all at the same time. Roth folded his arms judgmentally and looked to the rabbit with a grimace on his face. He preferred when people spoke through their actions as opposed to flowery speech.


And that was all Roth needed to see. As the archer had promised, he nailed the bunny right in the eye. Roth's grimace turned into an approving nod. "Impressive," he would have clapped if he didn't think he'd come off as a brown noser. He scoffed and chuckled at the announcement that they'd be eating Orc after slaughtering them tonight. "If an Orc doesn't kill you, eating one will. I would bet gold on that. Filthy bastards."


Roth was about to go get his lance and lead his new companion on the Orc trail he'd been following, but then Lirim announced it was time for the actual challenge. "Wait, what?" the elf asked, confused as Lirim lined himself up for another shot and missed the eye. "But...?" Roth looked at the rabbit, confused for a moment, but then, thanks to Lirim's demeanor, he sort of caught on to what the archer was getting at.


Completely flustered and flabbergasted, the proud knight backed away as shades of pink began to congregate on his cheeks. "'Have with you?' Wh-What does that mean?" The funny thing about Roth is, despite his Wolverine-like voice, masculine demeanor, and military experience, he wasn't the most romantically confident person and struggled at the art of flirtation. "I-I'd have nothing more of you than to k-kill Orcs, remember?! Th-The noble cause of wiping them off the Earth so that they may never terrorize others!" Roth wasn't completely sure what the archer could have been getting at but it sounded awfully suggestive.


"Th-There's no time to waste with foolish games! You've proved yourself to be a competent shot already!" Roth quickly tried to change the subject and went straight for his javelin leaning against the log he'd been sitting on. "So are you coming or not?"

Time: Afternoon, two weeks before Blue Rose landing Time loses meaning when you're with the one you loveeee~
Location: Apostle Quarters (Spare storage room, locked)

"Octavia... I-I cannot apologize enough for this. I cannot seem to open the door and using my magic would too dangerous..." Marysa said, quite shameful of herself. This is why Octavia will never return your feelings for you! You're just too weak and useless, you're the youngest and the least favourite Apostle! The mage thought to herself. Self-deprecating thoughts couldn't do much to help her now. What was she supposed to do in this situation?

Deep down, she knew this was her own fault. Marysa had let it slip that she regarded Octavia as more than a friend after the incident with the mages shortly after she had become a commander. Even though Octavia simply nodded and said something rather professional and platonic, Marysa was practically infatuated. She seemed superior to her... whenever they had missions together, Marysa always performed her 'showier' spells.

Whenever another mage bothered to look her way, an intimidating threat to 'burn everything they love if they harm her' always made sure every magic user was in hindsight whenever interacting with the hero. Afterwards, she'd say it had to do with the whole mage incident after she became a commander and no one would dare question the great Marysa LeFebvre of Ifrin. Now and again, the mage would watch her train and simply "learn the ways of the sword" from the hero until Spades stumbled across her watching with a rather dazed look on her face. The rest was practically history. Who knew Spades would be a little too supportive of her preferences?

Through unknown mechanics involving several traps involving rubber ducks, fishing poles and several pieces of cake, forceful shoves and an... elephant (?), Spades ended up locking the poor mage and warrior together.

In a room.

Together.

Alone.

With Octavia.

Marysa's face began to turn a bright red as she averted eye contact with the dashingly beautiful woman. "You are a strong hero, thus you should know h-how to break this door down... right? Haha... N-Not that I'm pressuring you or anything, I would never do that, by all the Sietic gods..." OhbyIfritsmitemefromabove.Little did she know another one of Spades' traps prevented this door from being open...

Octavia had a very long day. She had to travel to meet with the Apostles all the way from Wynda. The war was still on her mind. It always was. Coming back to Taros always took her out of the action, and forced her thoughts to settle. She would search for trouble on the way back just to keep her mind off of it, but bandits and centaurs merely occupied her time. Training younger recruits took her mind away. The look in her countrymen's eyes as they strove to be more than themselves. That was a worthwhile distraction. And she'd been looking forward to it. When the recruits heard she'd be arriving they had probably been looking forward to it.

But Octavia was locked in a storage room. Luckily, not with bad company. Far from it actually. "It's fine Marysa," Octavia tried to reassure the woman through her soulless helmet, her voice sounding tinny and muffled in her regular speaking voice, which was more gentle in comparison to the domineering and commanding tone she spoke in when ordering troops around in the same helmet. She didn't want Marysa to try and open the door with magic. Wouldn't want her catching the whole castle of fire for their sake. Especially since there was an easier, less painful way to do this.

"I've broken down many doors in my lifetime, this one will be no different. Perhaps extra work for the servants, but it would seem it needed repair anyway, if it refuses to behave for you," Octavia had been attempting to make a light joke, but it came out like she literally intended on bringing someone's attention to the faulty door, like she was gonna file a formal complaint. Octavia readied her shield, and then made a roaring charge at the door. And when she bounced off the surface and fell backward on her ass, she had never been happier to have her helmet on to mask her embarrassment. "Wh-What?" she stuttered incredulously, hurrying to her feet to try again. But nothing.

She tossed her shield away and sent a powerful kick forward. Breathing heavily, Octavia stared at the door, looked to Marysa quickly and then back to the door. "M-Marysa I..." How to save face in this situation. The embarrassment and her powerful rams against the door had her feeling rather hot and uncomfortable. "I just...I've never encountered such an immovable object. I-I suppose I should expect nothing less from Tarosian craftsmanship." Octavia shifted awkwardly and sighed before jiggling the handle hopelessly and almost frantically. "Umm...I've no idea...what to...do..." Octavia made a move as if to wipe her forehead but that was obviously...quite problematic.

Octavia scoffed and prayed that Marysa hadn't seen that before conceding and taking off her helmet. She avoided eye contact with the mage and tried to arrange her long brown hair in such a way that she would have to look at the woman directly for her to notice her pink cheeks. Though she felt naked without it, what little air there was in the storage room felt great on her face. Octavia studied the door handle as if glaring at it would get it to unlock.

Marysa sighed gently. At least Octavia wasn't mad at her. She took a breath. Octavia had a taller and athletic build. The mage could see the powerful woman causing chaos in the battlefield with her skillful strikes of her weapon to the expertly thrown shield, knocking out Wyndans back and forth. As the mage observed the hero, she hoped that she wasn't catching her staring. Biting her lip, she prepared to cover her face from the incoming pieces of wood.

Behave for me? What does that mean? Marysa wondered. The door seemed to look like any other door. Wooden and latched on with metal, nothing steel that could only be dented. But living life as a tribeswoman meant that a lot of busier city architecture was very new to her, as much as she hated to admit it. Marysa flushed, she said it so seriously it felt like she was going to grab the nearest servant and order them to fix the door. Who knew? Someone could easily open the door from the outside or even call for help.

Hearing a crash, she figured it would be a good time to lift her arms but raised them again after Octavia kicked the door. Oh dear. This was a bad situation. If Octavia couldn't break open the door, then Marysa had no chance of escaping without someone intervening or burning the whole building down. "I-Immovable? Tarosian doors are made with nothing but wood and metal latches..." Marysa mumbled to herself. Speaking of intervening, the mage finally figured out what, or who, was behind this.

"More likely than not, it is one of Spades' pranks. H-He won't let us out until he's had his fun." Marysa grumbled and sat down. "Perhaps if we wait it out, he will become bored of us and let us out. Watching the two of us fail to open that damn door is what he wants..." She said, turning her attention to Octavia. Seeing the woman without her helmet on was uncommon, but she didn't look bad with it off. Quite the opposite, really. Marysa preferred to see her facial expressions and the focused look warriors had when fighting. Not that this situation was anything like the others.

"I-I hope he did not hurt you very badly. L-Let me see." Feeling bad, as well as responsible for getting the two apostles into this mess, Marysa decided to at least look at what wounds she had from that crash. The mage had studied some basic healing fundamentals and hoped her studying had paid off. However, what the mage didn't know was that any magic other than combat she was only mediocre in. Sighing, it was still worth a try. Almost a gut reaction, the petite woman reached for Octavia's face, cupping it gently.

Marysa locked her green eyes with Octavia's gray. She had never been this close before and what seemed like a harmless checkup turned into something lasting much longer... In fact, the mage nearly got lost in their gaze and broke away blushing. "I-I apologize, I-I'm getting too close to you, a-am I not? This closet is rather small..." Looking away from her, she took silent breaths to regain her composure. Now came the awkward time of trying to make conversation.

Whenever all of the Apostles were together, you could pretty much count on Spades being responsible for any funny business. Normally Octavia was partial to his antics so long as they didn't involve her, and as Marysa had said, choosing not to react was generally her course of action. But the clown had managed to piss her off this time. "Spades, of course. What an unfortunate time for him to play one of his silly little games. I've got a training session with the recruits to get to..." Octavia folded her arms sternly as if staring at the door would compel it to open.

Octavia wasn't hurt, or at least not in the face. Her shoulder had been a little sore but Octavia was usually sore from combat and training. She found it strange and awkward that her face was the first place Marysa would check. And the extended eye contact would make anyone uneasy, but especially Octavia. "I-I'm fine Marysa."

The commander turned away from Marysa at the same time and looked back toward the door sighing nervously. The closet felt a lot smaller than it really was due to the awkward tension. If only she could train in the ways of conversation as she did in the ways of the blade. She had no idea what to say to the woman. And she always worried that she came off as...more distant to Marysa than she would like to be. "S-So! How have your battles been going? I've heard terrific things..." Octavia turned to the mage and managed a shy smile.

Was the room getting smaller? Or was it Marysa's insecurities taking up most of the space? Of course her face wouldn't be the one spot she would be getting injured, but the way her grey eyes stared back at her was enough to feel a blush rising up her cheeks. Damn Spades and damn his pranks. Sighing, it was Octavia's statement that became her saving grace. After many months trying to make up at least half the fraction of what she had done for her, Marysa would finally prove that she was worthy of Octavia's recognition. How would she do it?

Of course, by bringing attention to her accomplishments of the magical kind. Her fire had been lit. Prepare for her to rant on forever. "My battles? I-I've only been focusing on Ifrin for the majority of my battles. It felt great to be on the desert sand again. Some people find Ifrinic weather harsh and unforgiving, but the desert flowers bloom the brightest and the oases are the most beautiful." Marysa wistfully smiled, reminding the tall woman of her home. Now, she was back in Taros, doing the same thing as Octavia, training new mages. Wherever she was, Ifrin was always home to Marysa.

"Apologies for rambling, Octavia. I haven't came across many mages, but I had long forgotten my desert home was also home to rogue bandits and deserters of our alliance." She scoffed. "They had came, attacking me and my men. O-Of course we beat them, but I find magical fights more satisfying. Simply sellswords with low magical prowess, easily beaten with the taste of my slayer. At this rate, I shall neverimprove if I have no one of worth to test my skill." Normally, Marysa's troops consisted of mages, monks as well as wielders of dark magic, occasionally on horseback with some healers spread among them. They were always teamed with some other warrior or mercenary troops for double the power. Hopefully Octavia's troops would join them this time.

Noticing she might be talking too much of herself, her arrogant expression softened. Arrogance was always dangerous, not that Marysa hadn't indulged in such once in a while. Like now. What if Octavia did not care for her magic? "Though, I can assure you that my abilities only lie in magic. My sword prowess will never reach your heroic levels. The Resistance in Wynda nor Ifrin will never stand a chance against you." The dark knight's compliment only made her flush darker shades of red. Now she had to take the chance to thank Octavia now. It was either now or never, after this moment, she had to either thank or kick Spades right where the sun don't shine.

"Without you, I would not have even become as strong as I am... m-magically strong. I had sincerely thought that I would never be strong again, the day we met. I thought that... everything I had earned would be gone, forever. All of my precious studies... The only remnants I had of my tribe were the jewellery I brought with me... all burned to the ground." Marysa's fury had still remained as she clenched her fists. How could the mage ever forget such a heart-deafening moment in her life? The moment that reduced her to senseless anger and grief. Octavia having helped her was more than enough.

"Octavia, I cannot thank y-you enough. You taught them a lesson, and I became a commander almostweeks after. All as a result of what you have done to me, you have given me the determination to rise above everything being burnt. I have never gotten the chance to express my gratitude... s-so if you need anything at all, I am practically indebted to you."

It's a good thing Marysa was talkative. Octavia was pretty horrible at holding conversations. There were a few topics that were guaranteed to catch her attention. Lamely enough they all had to do with battle. If you did some effective tactical genius shit to win a battle, Octavia would like to know about it. Who knows, the information might come in handy. Or she'd be interested to hear about tough opponents. Warriors worth their salt, but were still beaten. Octavia loved those stories, so it was disheartening to hear that Marysa hadn't encountered such a foe.

While the mage rambled, Octavia had pulled up a crate to sit on and folded her legs. Her full attention was dedicated to Marysa. Octavia's naturally serious expression always made it seem like she was judging you when really she was just listening carefully. When the topic shifted over to her, this expression evaporated and all that was left was a bashful glance down to the floor. "Marysa, you're too much for words," she took a little breath before looking back at her colleague.

"Your gratitude means everything to me, but I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything." She narrowed her eyes but not in a standoffish way, more like she was thinking. "I don't recall if I told you that day, but something similar happened to me when I was young. Too young to remember. And the Emperor was there for me and now here I am for my country. Being granted the opportunity to do the same for someone else was an honor. And I hope that you too would do the same for someone else. I once thought--nevermind." Octavia's eyes widened and she stopped herself from bringing up the Emperor any further. Her current thoughts about him and this war shouldn't be shared with Marysa. Not when she's doing so well. To potentially plant the seeds of doubt would be akin to spreading a disease. She changed the subject. "Now you've got me rambling," Octavia said with a dismissive chuckle.

"But what's all this about your swordsmanship being inferior to your magic? I'm nothing special Marysa I'm simply experienced. Believing you can improve is the first step to doing so~" the smile that danced upon Octavia's lips was one of genuine passion. A love of the art of swordplay so pure that it changed her entire aura. "Why don't you come to my training sessions sometime?" She pouted a bit, which was something she did in her helmet but now there was nothing to mask the occasionally adorable expressions she hid from the world. "If Spades ever lets us out of here."

"I... I would love to!" Marysa chirped up immediately. Her body language relaxed as she looked upon Octavia's features. The face she made was adorable. "I'd like to learn the art of swordplay from the best." Smirking, she absentmindedly looked to the ceiling. "I am a bit grateful to some extent. I-If Spades hadn't locked us here, I never would have found the courage to thank you." The redhead smiled, even giggling ever so slightly as she pouted.

"Of course, that was what I was referring to. All members of my tribe require the mastery of both the physical and the magical... I suppose practicing would do me much good, with such a good teacher." She shrugged. Marysa could always improve her body. "If I find a good spot to practice, I'm happy to give you tips of the magical sort. It really is an... underrated art around here." She sighed.

"Regardless, I think I remember. Not to the depth that you've said now, but... I do have some recollection of it. I'm sorry about what happened so long ago, but if it weren't for that, you would not have been so kind to me. If I had the chance, I would definitely do the same." Marysa flushed. The mage hadn't noticed Octavia cut herself off. "To think that an Ifrin tribe girl would be able to be a Commander..." Marysa said wistfully. "Perhaps if I had decided to stay in the desert, I would not have such a thing happen." Her tone wasn't hostile at the slightest, but more airy and absentminded this time.

A warm and shining smile grew on Octavia’s face and she interlaced her fingers in her lap. Marysa’s enthusiasm for improving her swordsmanship excited her deeply. “The Emperor and the nation of Taros appreciate our loyal and powerful Ifrinic allies. It’s no surprise to me that the Emperor wanted someone with your extraordinary talents to become a Commander.”

Octavia stood up and unsheathed the sword at her hip. “If you’re truly interested, we can begin training now, if you wish.” Octavia’s hand slid as close to the handguard as possible and she extended the hilt of her blade toward Marysa. “If Spades intends to keep us locked in here until he’s bored, we can at least use the time productively, right? Besides… I was looking forward to teaching today.”

Marysa blushed at her compliment. It had been a long while since someone had called her talented in such an excited tone. Normally it was within closed confines, whispered voices or in the ground of defeat.

The room did seem smaller, and looking around, she remembered the door. Something had told her that Spades was done his own treachery. Marysa shook her head. “Maybe we can try another room. I don’t want to hurt you.” The mage was afraid that she might strike something rather vital in such a confined space, and she had already done enough damage as it was.

Trusting her instincts, the redhead tried the door, opening it gently. The door clicked in response, leaving the woman shocked. Though, Marysa smiled to herself. Spades was satisfied with whatever exchange they had. Were it not for his tactics, she never would have a chance in expressing her gratitude.

“Ah, what a happy coincidence~ The door has opened! There will be plenty of time to train outside, won’t there?” She exclaimed happily, almost ignoring that the man had quite literally locked them in.

Octavia was a little taken aback by the notion that Marysa thought she could even hurt her. With a blade anyway. Sure, with magic, no doubt, but in a sword fight? Octavia was very confident in her abilities, no matter the size of the room she’s fighting in. “That’s a bold fear to have,” she replied passive aggressively.

She wasn’t expecting the door to open any time soon, but her doubts were proved wrong when Marysa was miraculously able to open the door by just twisting the knob. This was a truly humiliating experience for Octavia, and she’d have to give Spades a piece of her mind later. And also find out how he did it in the first place, because man. Imagine locking a bunch of people in a fortress and then setting the fortress on fire? You could have gryphon riders fly over it and douse it in oil before having mages cast fire spells on it. That would be a pretty easy win the next time the rebels wanted to hold their ground.

Murderous military tactics aside, Octavia was glad to be out. Despite not actually being outside in the trees, the air somehow felt fresher out of the utility closet. “Thank Ord,” she sighed with relief, put her helmet back on, and then lifted her shield. “Perhaps it isn’t too late to attend my training session after all,” her voice sounded tinny and muffled once more. “We’ll have to spar another time.”

Time: A few weeks into the voyage from Neth to Satrella
Location: The Blue Rose

It was now many days since they had departed for The New World. The Blue Rose kept a slow but steady pace as it traversed the gentle waves somewhere right in the middle of the ocean the lay between the two continents. For Vilhelmina the voyage across the sea had started out a bit on the bad side, for she had been struck by a terrible case of seasickness. But as the days rolled on she eventually grew accustomed to the gentle rocking of the ship, and by now she didn't feel all that seasick anymore. Heck, on a day with good weather such as this she could even find herself enjoying being at sea.

With a slight, but genuine, smile on her face the young bodyguard walked across the deck with a newfound sense of courage and in a good mood. The reason for this was that she had just talked to her subject - Lord Zakai. He had been ever so nice to her, as he always were. Kind words, appreciation, generosity, and those enchanting eyes of his-... Wait what?! Vilma, don't go about day-dreaming again! You need to stay focused, even now. Her inner voice corrected her train of thought, something that it'd had to do pretty often ever since they'd left shore. There was certainly no denying that she was a bit smitten by the young prince.

She came to a halt and sighed lightly at situation. Then she leaned her elbows on the railing, placing her gaze on the far horizon. “This is a right mess, isn't it?” She said in almost a whisper, speaking to no one in particular. Now, this may appear a self-doubting thing to say, but Vilhelmina was in fact full of confidence at this point, but none the less did she find herself in a situation unlike any she had ever been in before. Being the Prince's bodyguard? Being out at sea and heading for unkown lands? And with blossoming feelings at that? And then there was Edmund, her brother who had been reported lost during the first expedition to this New World. It was no understatement to say that all these things had her head spinning, seasick or not.

Sailing wasn't a big deal for Ava. As a merchant she'd made many a trip by sea in her youth. Much like Vilhelmina, she got sick the first time. But she grew accustomed to the feeling many years ago. The only difference in this trip is that it was so. Long. The voyage was making her stir crazy. Ava was the type that liked to keep herself busy. But it isn't like there's much she could do. Ava’s idea of fun was counting gold and she did that twice today. She'd sold just about everything she could sell to the crew, and she wasn't about to assist them in their day to day tasks. Manual labor? As if.

So the only duty she could really and truly focus on was making sure Zakai was keeping up with his studies. And with that as her only real responsibility, she took the job very seriously. Ava didn't think of Zakai as an adult, more of a man child that needed to be told to play less with his bow and arrow and to crack open a book. A future king must be more than a warrior. Aside from his archery, the prince had another distraction. Vilhelmina. As if all that testosterone from his combat training wasn't enough to wreck his hormones, there had to be a girl in the picture too.

Ava was absolutely perplexed that the King would even allow such a young girl to defend his son. Surely there were more experienced knights that could have come along. But she was handpicked by Zakai and the King believed in letting Zakai be his own man. Within limits of course. After all, he still made the prince bring his naggy advisor. Ava wasn't anticipating much combat, maybe a pirate attack at the worst, so she'd gotten over Vilhelmina’s selection rather quickly. The girl seemed nice enough and she and the prince seemed to get along well.

And that was fine until Ava grew dreadfully bored on the ship and needed to exert her energy into something. That's when she found problems where there are none. She’d convinced herself that Vilhelmina could be one of them. Her concerns seemed more legitimate when she spotted the young fighter leaving the Prince’s quarters. Ava followed after her, subtly keeping her distance and watched her on the deck. After studying her for a while, she approached Vilhelmina with a falsely pleasant little smile and greeted her. “Good afternoon, Lady Vilhelmina,” she avoided looking down at the ocean below them and met eyes with the knight. She pushed up her glasses and asked sweetly, “How have you been occupying your time on this fine day?”

Vilhelmina looked up when suddenly a familiar voice sounded from just behind her. When she turned around she met eyes with Ava - a woman that worked as an financial advisor for the Hadwinn family, or something along those lines. To be frank, Vilhelmina wasn't really sure exactly what Ava's position was, for the two had not exchanged many words or gotten to know each other closer after first being introduced at the beginning of the voyage. Why this had come to happen, she didn't know. Vilhelmina nodded as a greeting, letting her smile from before remain posted on her lips.

“Miss Ava, Good afternoon.” She said, making quick courtesy, not sure it was actually necessary given the situation.

“Oh, I've been at the Prince's side all day, taking part in good conversation and sharing with him a handful of laughs. Being ever watchful of course, as is my duty.” Vilhelmina said, starting the sentence in an almost dreamy manner before settling on a more stern tone when mentioning the watchful-thing. She ended up rolling her eyes at how serious she made it sound at the end compared to how she had started the sentence. Ava must think me crazy already.

“An important task to be certain, but one that is sometimes far less demanding than one could actually expect. And in the company of Zakai time just flies by.” She added in a more controlled manner than just before.

“May I ask about your day too?”

Ava narrowed her eyes slightly and smiled knowingly as Vilhelmina spoke. If Vilhelmina were a customer, Ava was certain she could sell her perfumes and love potions. People who spoke like that about someone else were practically begging to be ripped off for stuff like that. Which meant her suspicions were correct...but how true were the rumors exactly? She’d have to investigate the matter further. “Mm.” She nodded, smiling pleasantly as Vilhelmina’s tone became more dutiful. The merchant pretended as if she hadn’t already smelled blood in the water. “Yes, Prince Zakai is quite the character, isn’t he?” She not so subtly reminded the bodyguard of his title, picking up on her apparent comfort in using only his first name.

“Yes of course. I’ve spent the day protecting the Prince as well,” Ava answered. “His coffers, that is.” She looked around and leaned in, speaking in a hushed tone, “I wouldn’t be surprised if some members of the crew had... sticky fingers, if you know what I mean.” She leaned back and adjusted her glasses despite not really needing to. “So everyday I make sure exactly what we left with is exactly what we have. But I’m sure a warrior like yourself has little interest in the day to day activities of simple merchants like me~” Ava waved her hand dismissively and asked, “So what were you and the Prince conversing about?”

“Yes, the Prince is quite the character, indeed. Much more so easy-going and charming than any of the other members of nobility or few royalties I’ve had the honour of making acquaintance with.”

Ava’s way of correcting Vilhelmina’s error in forgetting to use proper titles when she discussed the Prince was not unnoticed. But Vilhemina tried her best not to make it show, instead she just focused on trying not to make the same mistake again. It was actually a bit hard. Perhaps because the way she felt clouded her mind a bit, she was raised to always follow the code of conduct in social situations, but she had actually let herself become a bit too close to the young prince already, this was just proof of that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, your line of work is just as important and interesting as mine, even if it isn’t as romanticized in songs and tales.” Was Vilhelmina’s response to when Ava assumed she had no interest in her daily work (actually, she was sort of right in her assumptions, not that Vilma was going to let her know that). “Besides, you’re not exactly any simple merchant, now are you? There has to be a reason that you and not somebody else was tasked with this journey, right?” Vilhelmina said, to feign some interest in said subject.

“As for what I and Z-… the Prince was conversing about before, what I can tell you without going into detail is that we were just talking of this and that, all manner of things, really. Reviewing our expectations on this New World we’re headed for, among other things. Why do you ask?” Vilhemina followed court and squinted her eyes while still having a pleasant smile painted on her lips just as she asked the last question. Was Ava really just making conversation or was she actually snooping around.

The very vague response Vilhelmina replied with heightened Ava’s suspicions. Her imagination wandered endlessly at “all manner of things,” but it never ventured into the realm of economics and foreign policy. She highly doubted the two warriors met up to talk about Zakai’s studies. Ava imagined that at best they were trading combat tips and at worst they weren’t doing much conversing at all, insert Lenny face. She underestimated Zakai’s sense of priorities, and didn’t put it past him to invite a secret girlfriend along for the long trip to the New World that they were allegedly discussing. In fact, that made perfect sense. Why else would the Prince have chosen her over one of the more seasoned knights?

“Just curious, is all,” Ava replied casually with a warm smile. She adjusted her glasses and mused with a small, posh chuckle, “I suppose we’re both in the dark as to why the other is here.” Ava began to elaborate, “You must be so very talented with a blade to have been chosen by the Prince to be his personal retainer. Yet you’re so young~! I think that’s marvelous.” If there was one thing Ava’s good at it was schmoozing. The way she spoke highly of others sounded as genuine as one could be. “Tell me dear, what have you accomplished so far in your career as a warrior thus far?”

Vilhelmina was uncertain what to make of this. Ava was sort of poking around, that much was clear. But then again, her interest did appear genuine and honest, and attention craving as she was Vilhelmina thrived in being asked questions about her career as a warrior as long as there was no immediate sign of Ava questioning her abilities. "Yes, I am young, I'll admit to that. But like you say, I handle a blade quite well. Better than most, in fact. You see, as far as swordsmanship goes, age matters little. Experience does however. And I have experience despite my young age. I grew up on the jousting arena, watching my brother in combat and thus learning the art and concept of it from an early age, and I was thought swordplay from some of the finest teachers in all of Herranow. Myself I excel as a duelist. I've bested many a man, and many a older opponent in the ring. I've even won a handfull of contests." She said, repeating more or less the same speech she'd used when she convinced Zakai that she was fit to go with him on this journey.

"Besides, the Prince and my brother - Sir Edmund - used to do combat training together. So even if my brother wasn't there at the time, one can still say that I came to Zakai with the best of recommendations."

Ava leaned against the railing of the ship and rested her chin in her palm as she gave Vilhelmina her full attention. Behind the lenses of her glasses, her eyes locked onto Vilhelmina’s. Ava nodded along and the small smile she had gradually widened as Vilhelmina spoke of her accomplishments. She appeared to be completely and totally engrossed in all that the young warrior had to say.

“Well, that’s truly impressive Vilhelmina. I can see why the Prince picked you to serve as his bodyguard.” She inquisitively followed up with another question, perhaps a baited one, or perhaps one out of genuine curiosity… but definitely baited. “How often do you practice with the Prince?”

Vilhelmina met Ava's gaze for a while at first but looked away out onto the ocean again once she asked how often she practiced together with the Prince. "Not nearly often enough if you ask me." She said, sighed and shooker her head. ”And now that we're out on this journey it's pretty hard to get anything done. I mean, there's people everywhere and it's hard to find the privacy needed. Sure, the Prince's cabin is private, but it's hard to get much practice done in there. But I guess we'll have better possibility for proper practice once we reach our destination.”

She looked at Ava, again, allowing a smile to emerge on her lips once more. “So, what about you? You spend some time with the Prince once in a while, don't you? What do you think? Is he as promising with his studies as he is in other fields?” She asked in an attempt to turn the table, and having Ava answer a question or two. It was like she somehow felt cornered by Ava's questions. The uncertainty of if she was prying around or just making conversation was quite unsetteling in a sense, even if she enjoyed the attention she (and her relationship with Zakai) was getting.

Not often enough, isn’t that rich. Ava suppressed her inclination to scoff at Vilhelmina’s answer immediately. It seemed all Zakai ever had interest in was sharpening his combat skills. If you ask Ava, he spent more than enough time training and not nearly enough reading. And considering this was a mission of diplomacy, and not warfare, that was a problem. But based off of what the young green haired woman said, if they weren’t practicing most of the time when they were spending time together, then what were they doing. I suppose she’d have me believe they’re just chatting. Ava was skeptical to say the least.

Ava chose her words with about as much caution as a child chasing after a ball that rolled across a street. “To be quite frank, Prince Zakai is mediocre at best when it comes to his studies. Due to being under my tutelage he’s leaps and bounds ahead of many other young nobles his age that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, but that isn’t saying much,” she replied candidly. “His father and I have higher expectations of him, you see. Though he’s only a boy now, he is to inherit the crown of Neth’s sword and shield. The king and I are committed to ensuring he is prepared to face the challenges of a changing and expanding world that the future will surely bring. The legacy of Herranow and the Hadwin name has reached a critical point in history. He can afford nothing short of excellence in combat, academia, foreign policy, et cetera et cetera.” Ava looked out into the ocean and rolled her fingers along the railing as she spoke.

“That isn’t to say he isn’t promising, however. Quite the contrary really. The Prince could excel at anything he dedicates his time to.” Ava ceased tapping against the railing and turned back to Vilhelmina with a sort of sly and knowing smile. “And therein lies the problem. He’s a… restless soul and academics can only keep his attention for so long. Unlike combat or... young women,” She implied suggestively.

At first Vilhelmina was in full agreement with what Ava said. Of course the young Prince needed to tend to his academics just as much as combat training! Vilma was suddenly made painfully aware that she was being unrealistic and self-centered when she said that she didn't get enough time with Zakai. It made her feel embarrassed, dumb and like an ingrate.

Oh dear, Ava must think me a fool. At least I can find some comfort in the fact that she still finds Zakai promising.

Yes, Vilhelmina was sincerely worried to hear that Ava thought Zakai wasn't doing all that well with guys studies. But then she noticed something in Ava's voice, something she said. Unlike combat and -young women-?!

Now Vilhelmina was starting to feel how her wage feelings of suspicion turn into rising anger within her. Sure, she had been suspecting that Ava was snooping around, but she didn't expect her to actually be over to believed the rumors that surrounded Vilhelmina and the Prince as of late. She was only her bodyguard and nothing else! And she had not been chosen over more seasoned knights only because Zakai fancied her or something like that. Right? Sometimes she was uncertain, almost hoping that the rumors were true, even if they did hurt her pride.


"You are suggesting that I'm distracting the Prince, aren't you?" She said with a tint of anger or threat in her voice and with a, suddenly, no longer smiling face. "Tell you what, Ava. If you're to tutor our future King in foreign policy, diplomacy, academic studies and whatever. Perhaps then you'd best start out with learning the difference between gossip rumors and truth yourself?" she said, almost hissing the last few words, clearly annoyed.

Ava raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes slightly, but her little sly smile didn’t disappear. In fact, it only stretched further across her face. Clearly she had hit a nerve with that one. Conversations were like duels to Ava. Vilma’s response wasn’t the nervous denial she’d been expecting the formerly even tempered bodyguard to reply with, but of course she could parry the soldier’s jabs all the same.

“Oh ho ho~!” she laughed poshly and playfully tapped Vilma’s shoulder. “Don’t be so defensive dear, I was only teasing~! I’m sorry if I offended you...” Ava cooed her lies in a gentle motherly tone. She moved slightly closer to the guard so that their shoulders were touching. “But you have to admit. You are a beautiful young lady. I imagine any young man -- prince or not -- would prefer to look at you than the pages of an old history book. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the sailors was ogling you behind your back as we speak. And that’s how you can help me…”

If this was Ava's idea of a joke, Vilhelmina wasn't laughing. The entire thing with rumours and whispers about her and Zakai was already takings it's toll on her. But hearing Ava tell her that she was beautiful at least did something to smooth things over a bit. "Hmpf! Appology accepted, but know that I am not amused." Vilhelmina said as she turned to look over her shoulder once just to make sure no sailors where there to check her out from behind. No one there... or was one of the deck hands at the other side of the deck just looking our way?! Nooo....

Relieved that no one appeared to be ogling her, Vilma turned back to Ava and looked at her with a stern face. "Help you, you say? Whatever do you mean me to help you with by being beautiful?" She asked, already very curious about what the merchant had in mind.

Though Vilma wasn’t, Ava was definitely amused by the knight’s huffy response to being buttered up. The truth of the matter was that having that strong of a reaction spoke volumes on Vilma’s character. Ava had come to realize that she shouldn’t think of the young woman as an obstacle for the betterment of Zakai’s mind, but as a tool. Of course no one wanted to be told straight to their face that they were being used, so she had to be careful with her wording.

“It’s as I said, my dear. You’re far more enchanting to behold than the pages of the Prince’s textbooks. So perhaps when you’re having these little chats with him, as you are want to do, you can help him study simultaneously?” Ava suggested casually. “Perhaps the Prince might be more open to learning and expanding his mind if you were there to help him through it. All you would have to do is bring up a topic of my choosing in casual conversation… maybe test him with a short pop quiz written by yours truly on occasion. And along the way, you’ll be bettering yourself as well! You would be receiving an education fit for a king, which would make you even more useful to him in the future! You could be much more than another sword, Vilhelmina, and it would require very little trouble on your behalf.”

Ava was most certainly playing a game of sorts with her, but exactly what kind of game was it? Her suggestions didn't seem all that bad for either herself or the prince. And Ava's own gain didn't appear to be much more than a bit of help in teaching Zakai. Perhaps Ava was really just trying to make Vilhelmina help or with the prince's studies but didn't want to give her a straight order? It made some sense since that wasn't Vilhelmina's job.

"I suppose I could suggest that we study once in a while, sure. But... I'm not sure about the quiz-thing. Like, would I just suddenly start with asking questions for no reason? And so we plan this in secrecy? Maybe I'm just not following, but it sounds a bit strange. At any rate I'd like Zakai... The Prince, I mean, to be in on this. Otherwise I'd feel dishonest, I don't want to be an actor around him." She said, not sure if she'd overinterpreted Ava's intentions based on the current situation or not. For she had not exactly said anything about secrecy, that was just Vilhelmina's assumptions because of how she felt towards Ava.

"And wouldn't it have been easier to just ask it from me right away?" She said, raising an eyebrow and shooting a suspicious look at Ava.

An actor. Ava adjusted her glasses and chuckled wryly. She had to admit, Vilhelmina was sharper than she had perceived. Before this conversation, Ava had assumed she was just another bimbo knight who was so used to following orders that she would accept them from anyone so long as they sounded like they had the authority. But she was clearly very inquisitive, which was a definite sign of intelligence. Ava cleared her throat and replied, “Come now, Vilhelmina. Surely you don’t think that I’ve orchestrated this entire conversation just to ask you to assist with Prince Zakai’s studies?” She asked innocently. “I’ve only just come up with the idea now~!”

She wasn’t lying about that. Beforehand her goal was to get the knight to spend less time around the Prince so he could focus. Now it was the opposite. She wanted her to spend more time with him. Ava smiled knowingly and leaned against the railing of the ship on her elbows and looked out to the sea wistfully. “I know that merchants have a reputation of being… underhanded. But I assure you, my only goal in chatting with you today was to get to know you better. And now that I have, I merely thought that I had found another way for you to put your talents to use and benefit both the Prince and yourself. It would also mean spending more time together, which I thought the both of you might enjoy since you’re such good friends. Then perhaps the two of you would grow closer as you strengthened both body and mind together. And in the future, when the Prince has inherited his father’s title, he would have an ally he trusts above all others to place in charge of his royal guard, or something of the like.” Ava stood up straight and smiled warmly, though she was shaking her head. “But forget I asked. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m trying to manipulate either of you. I apologize yet again, milady,” Ava gave her a shallow bow. “I suppose I’ll take my leave then?”

Things really went back and forth in this conversation as well as in Vilhelmina's mind. Had she been to early to suspect Ava of being a schemer? Was there a chance she was actually making things up due to her own vulnerability from being a young woman in charge of protecting a royalty that she secretly fancied? It did seem likely, and now she felt like she had been rude enough to let Ava take the hit... She had to make amends.

"Ava, wait... I'm sorry, obviously I don't think you orchestrated it that way. I'm an idiot for being overly suspicious, but it's in my nature as of late. I guess I'm not yet used to being in charge of the prince's safety and well-being. And then there are the rumours going around, it's as if everyone wants to get to me, you know?" She said, letting go of the railing and started walking to and fro on the spot as she spoke in order to handle having to excuse her behaviour.

"Of course I'll help him study of I can. Anything to help the Prince become a splendid regent in the future. It's my job and it's my deepest wish to aid him in whatever way possible." she said, if perhaps a tiny bit theatrical.

She looked at Ava, smirking slightly and again raising her eyebrow. "Though I doubt I'll ever be in charge of any armies in the future no matter what I try. I'd really have to use my charm to achieve something like that. But thanks for believing in me."

Ahhhh she took the bait. Ava was convinced that even the finest actress in Fuccini theater couldn’t put on a better innocent act than her. Perhaps she was in the wrong profession. Vilma spilled her guts and gave Ava a very hearty serving of her insecurities. Excellent. Ava could already feel scheme after scheme brewing in her noggin. She couldn’t help it, it was just in her nature to find ways to sell things to people. Whether they’re actual products or just ideas.

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” Ava quickly forgave her. “I understand completely! People are always looking down on us women! As if we don’t have the talent to carry ourselves through our lives without the help of a man! It’s preposterous, really. That’s why you and I have to work together!” Ava took the knight’s hands in hers and spoke to her in a motherly fashion. “Vilma, not only do I believe in you, but I am counting on you. And I don’t place bets on losing horses!” Ava winked at her and released Vilma’s hands in favor of clapping hers together. “Well then, I shall write up a study guide for you two! Ta ta Vilhelmina~” And with that, the merchant was off.

Location: Whispering Woods Village
Time: Shortly After Chapter 2

It was time, the still bound Kristen was placed in the room a good time ago. She had been no doubt thinking on what to do, or perhaps was simply just defeated by the knowledge of having been abandoned by her angered grandfather. Either way, she was given time, enough to have Lamont begin to speak with her, on what they were to do, what SHE was going to do.

Did he want her on their side? Yes.

Did he want her on their side by forcing her to join? No, that would only make more trouble as the first chance she gets to betray them she would. And if anything, she has proven to be quite the opportunist so far.

Opening the door and stepping inside Lamont brought in a tray of tea and two cups to serve them, he of course knew Kristen's hands were tied... but regardless two was what he ordered for, the pot, more like a kettle since it's made of iron, same with the cups, was heavy on the tray but he did not waver as he placed the tray on the table between him, and his interviewee.

"Good evening Kristen. It has been quite the long day no?" he asked her as if they had both just gotten off a long day of work.

Unlike the last prisoner the Assembly had captured, Kristen wasn't struggling against her binds. She wasn't even plotting an escape. There were bigger things on her mind. When she was a child, she was very close to her grandfather. But she wasn't living with him. When Taros set the world on fire, he was the only other person in her family left standing in the ashes. As an adult, she and Ulysses didn't see eye to eye on most things, but they started off tiny. Like what was the best day to the laundry. She still very much admired her grandfather, and enjoyed listening to the epics of his past. In particular, his many encounters with necromancers.

Kristen always saw them as the villains in her grandfather's stories, but not because of their abilities. It was how they used them. To her, necromancy was comparable to a sword: only as evil as the person wielding it. Sure, becoming a necromancer wasn't as easy as going out and buying a tome. She knew it was a dark path but...she thought she could be different. But now she was just another villain in one of her granddad's stories. She had a lot to think about, or perhaps more accurately, sulk about. Escape wasn't on her mind.

Then he came in. Yes, she remembered that he was indeed, a he. Kristen shuddered at her earlier behavior while under the influence of a Love staff. She knew it wasn't her fault and it really couldn't be held against her but that didn't make it any less embarrassing. She scowled at the tray of tea he brought with him. "Drinking alone?" she asked bitterly. She sat up from the floor and asked, "Or do you intend on untying the big bad necromancer? Aren't you worried I might steal your soul and feed it to demons or whatever?" her tone was mocking, but just as deprecating to her as it was to him.

Lamont chuckled, as if she just made a small joke. "Feed my soul to demons? Oh no, I am not worried at all. In fact I came to discuss your freedom." he explained to the young woman, his ever present smile widening ever so slightly. She was a fiery one no doubt, a sharp tongue and a wit to match, he shall like this conversation.

"To start again our introductions, Kristen, or should I say the great Renkalanora, I am Lamont Basilo. I am vicar of Palenia, a land over the east... sorry, western seas. My home is considered to be the home of magic and the home of the goddess. But no doubt you couldn't care a wink of the latter, I shall tell you more of the former." he chuckled slightly, becoming much more... frank, then one would think the man capable of doing.

"In Palenia, we study all forms of magic, we have libraries of magical tomes that would take you until your elderly years to finish, if you skim them. And through this study and love of magic we have done marvelous things, and stuck to our traditions all the while. For magic is holy to us, along with the manaketes. So you could summarize my land as living, breathing and bleeding magic at all times." he chuckled once more, moving around the table as he withdrew a knife into his hands, walking around the back of Kristen.

"Long story short, I understand your drive for magic. And see your potential." he grabbed one of her hands to cut her loose. "...best you stand still, I'm not the best with a knife." he admitted as he cut through the binds.

"And I simply wish to tell you more about the arts you used today... At any point you can leave this room, I will not stop you, you need only say the word. And if you have any questions, please, ask them. In this room, we shall not judge one another, only facts and truth shall reign. No holy rites, no praises to the goddess or anything. I come to you as a dualist, not a holy man." the man explained himself as he returned to his side of the table, pouring them both a nice cup of tea. "Would you like a cookie? Rosa's handiwork is absolutely divine."

Kristen's head swirled momentarily as Lamont told her of his homeland. For the first time since she'd met them, the realization that these people were from an entirely different place hit her hard. Words like Vicar and mention of a Goddess had her head spinning. The only goddesses she knew of were the Sietic ones, and she barely understood the political positions of the people in her own country. However, she pieced together that a Vicar was some kind of big cheese from the way Lamont held himself. This assumption only made her all the more suspicious of him. Untying her and talking to her alone? No way there wasn't some sort of bodyguard right outside the door, waiting for some kind of signal that the "Vicar" needed assistance.

However, she obeyed and sat still as he removed her binds. She rubbed her wrists silently, glaring from beneath her hood, but taking him up on his offer to have a cookie. She seemed to be trying to digest all that he was saying while eating the treat and taking a sip of her tea silently. Finally, she replied with, "Your country sounds intriguing, I must admit. We have schools dedicated to the arts but we haven't dedicated our entire nation to it. Most people around here seem more inclined to pick up an axe. However," Kristen stood up and went to a nearby window, looking away from the Vicar and down at the tiny street below. "Your people are just as ignorant and paranoid as mine for your silly fear of necromancy. Even moreso actually. You'd think a nation of people dedicated to magic would have realized by now that that's all necromancy is: magic." She smirked and turned around to face him.

"That woman, the maid, she charmed me into falling in love with you. All I could think about was spending the rest of my life with you, a complete a stranger! And...pleasing you in any way that you wanted me to. What makes that any less dangerous or any more ethical than summoning a demon to fight alongside you? Nothing, that's what. It's only because society says it's wrong and people believe it without question because people are idiot sheep! Necromancy isn't evil, people are..." Kristen bit her lip before admitting swiftly, "Anddemonswhenlefttotheirowndevices, but that's exactly why we should be learning how to control them! We already know how to kill the damn things! C-Can you imagine... the Tarosian army marching into combat against the most powerful necromancers in the land, battalions of demons, and the souls of everyone that they've murdered? We'd lower our own casualties and increase their own tenfold, our men wouldn't even have to show up to the fight! And the Tarosians would never see it coming because they're too busy reading their Ordicons and counting their gold!"

"Indeed, it is bending the other's will to your needs." Lamont regarded those words of the love staff carefully, it seems she does recognize the power of necromancy, conjuration of the things that lurk in the dark to fight those monsters that lurk in the light. She understands the power, but not quite the responsibility...

Lets follow this train of thought.

"Indeed, you could very well crush that army. And their kingdom, and every single person who stands in the way of the mission you give these demons. They will slaughter and kill ever single thing that dared to enter your path, from knight to a singular mouse they will tear them to shreds for even the singular thought of encroaching upon your path." he nodded, giving some further unravelling to this plan of hers. "Binding the souls of the dead and buried to this plane to perform you service until one deigns to release them."

His words came with a long nod, eyes closed as he sipped his tea. "Why do you think nobody has done this? Why is my kingdom of Palenia, one founded in magic, not simply stated necromancy as a holy magic. Such a power coming into use we could have very well conquered all of my homeland of Neth." he took yet another sip, awaiting her answer.

"We do still study it you know, like how one would study their greatest enemy, but still none would dare cast it, why is that?"

"Oh you just think you're so wise, don't you?" Kristen asked spitefully, plucking another cookie from the plate and taking a bite while glaring at the Vicar with maximum salt. These are addicting, she thought angrily. She was stalling while chewing, trying to find some kind of biting retort to answer Lamont's question with. She only swallowed when she'd thought of her rebuttal. "Maybe because your country isn't run by a maniac who orders his soldiers to behave like demons! Maybe your ruler respects his rivals enough to limit their war tactics to armed men. Countless innocents have been killed by the Alliance and the casualties are only going up, I'm sure! They're just like demons th-they're soulless monsters! And the rebels are on borrowed time. We need to do something. Has your country ever had to triumph over a foe like the Alliance?"

"I try from time to time to sound like I am." he parried her salty words before considering her other words. "In truth... you would find evil anywhere if you looked into the past of the kingdoms... I cannot speak for all of our history... But the conflict of Fuccino and Palenia... has brought some terrible things... Alot of it done for the good of the whole. And alot of good was done, only to make everything end up worse then it started. People would want change only to realise they couldn't support it, or perhaps realizing the true threat was not the one they were fighting but theone that was driving them the whole time." he grew silent for but a moment and then shook his head to clear the history from his mind. Though he cannot say they have fought a large threat like the alliance... but now it was time to get back to Necromancy.

"Now back to the topic at hand. In summary of what you say, feel free to correct me at any time, in summary is this. Necromancy can be used to fight a larger evil. It will reduce casualties for our side and provide victory against the demonic force of the alliance. or atleast so it is said they fight like demons, but thats just semantics. The war is inflicting untold pain upon innocents and the land. And you say that necromancy can save these people from the threat that is the Alliance." he repeated the points she made during their talk, nodding and waiting for a moment for her to correct him on any points.

"Now, let me ask you. What drives a demon? Why do you think they answer your call?"

Kristen didn't care about Palenia, or Fuccino, or whatever countries, cities, and towns existed on Neth. It was of no importance to her goal of toppling the Empire. However, she was finally reminded that Neth was the reason why this war even started. It felt so long ago since it began that the war itself overshadowed the reason it started to begin with. Sure, Taros had always been extremely militarized and they had a history of conquering other lands. Many suspected that peace in Satrella wouldn't last long, that the slightest event could push Taros into invading other nations, and it wasn't all that surprising that they used the hatred of and enslavement of Laguz as a tool to rally many of the Laguz hating tribes of Ifrin onto their side. She was beginning to resent Lamont and this entire group even more. She knew it wasn't really their fault, but they were still involved.

She didn't correct any of his points, he was right for the most part, but she knew what he was thinking. "I just want to say that the innocent people in Taros will unfortunately have to pay for the sins of their Emperor and his military. Sacrifices have to be made." She meant that in more than one way, there were many sacrificial ceremonies in the school of neck romancing. "Besides, if they don't stand against the Emperor then they stand with him. They have it coming. Taros will fall and if they don't want to be around for it then they can grow a conscience and leave. Maybe your oh-so-great country will provide shelter for them."

Kristen considered his next question by thinking back on the texts and the...strange ceremony she had to do to harness the power. Weirdly enough, the books didn't describe what the demons wanted or what drove them. Only that they had to be satisfied by the soul summoning them. Kristen thought that meant someone powerful, but what it actually meant was that the demons wanted souls in general, they were all the same to them. To summon the demons she had in the forest, she had to do a blood ceremony. There was a myriad of strange items she needed for it. A human heart for one, which she...acquired from a graveyard. Her own blood was also required, as to be expected. It was a beginner's ceremony though, and though she'd been able to summon many, more than should have been possible, (no doubt thanks to the Whispering Woods' history of death) the creatures were weak and many were oddly docile. So the easy answer? "I don't know..." she admitted. "Power?"

"Perhaps they have no choice but to bend knee." the man simply stated, not going to far on the topic of why the Tarosian's don't fight back against such an oppressive emperor. "Perhaps they kneel because all the other's are, fear is a powerful motivator. And perhaps... they know something we do not, we see them from the outside... but what evils lurk from within? Why leave when it will only hunt them down? Hopelessness and fear.... The tyrant's bridle and saddle to ride his country upon." he let it rest before giving thought upon the nature of demons, he knew the answer, but this young woman had to process that idea herself. If she didn't it would be him simply telling her how it is... And shes not the type to respond well to that.

"Indeed, you are correct, the demon's seek power above all else. You call them into this world, even weak as they are, they seek to increase their power. They care not for your reasons, thy care not for your orders. They understand but two things, fight and consume. They don't know mercy as a man does, they don't know compassion... But thats what you'd expect no?" Lamont gave the young woman a slight chuckle, as if he were hinting to a hidden joke between the two. "Thats why one summons them, to do the dirty work that is not worthy of humans to do... But this night shows the major flaw in necromancy. A flaw that lies glaring in one's eyes each time it is used... One only needs to open their eyes to see it." he nodded, giving a moment of gentle repose before looking into Kristen's eyes once again.

"Can you tell me what this flaw is?" He asked her, hoping beyond hope she'd see what it was... the very fact the beasts would have destroyed her own home if the group had not destroyed her minions, the fact they were encroaching upon the town as they had entered the area. "A simple hint, that is all, I do not mean to encroach upon your thoughts, you are your own woman, your mind is your own... But We did not start the engagement against your minions, We were heading to the village to possibly have some respite, trade for supplies. The thing that caused to gauntlet to be thrown... is the death of Alecks, a friend, my body guard, killed without so much of a raised hand... I remember the skeleton walker's spear piercing his chest... the crimson blade.... he had no chance.... His body is still there, our wounds needed tending before we'd attend to him."

Kristen couldn’t conceive of any other evil reason for the southern country’s actions other than that they were rich, greedy, powerful, and lead by a warmongering asshole. Ironically, even after beginning to dabble in the darkest art, she couldn’t fathom any other reasons why people would align themselves with the Emperor. In fact the very notion seemed preposterous. “Pffft. Yeah, sure,” she responded dismissively.

The fatal flaw of using demons as weapons? Kristen looked down at the floor, eyes studying the wood beneath her as she considered which one he could possibly be referring to. Because she knew there was a lot of risks involved, she’d heard all of the tales and the hearsay but only believed half of them, if that even. It clicked when he brought up their fallen man and a look of shame and guilt crossed her face as she stared at the ground beneath her.

“It’s only because… because I couldn’t control them…” she admitted, yet simultaneously tried to find an excuse for Alecks’ death instead of just owning up to it. “I told them to find the orcs!” She continued trying to save face. Unbeknownst to her, Lirim and Roth had already taken care of the orcs by the time she began the summoning. Even if the demons did listen to her, they wouldn’t have had any orcs to kill. And maybe the monsters that arrived near the den did listen to her. Not that it mattered, she’d summoned so many and they all went in random directions so she just ended up following in the direction most of them wandered off to. “But they wouldn’t listen to me...and I didn’t know I’d summon that many. I-If I wasn’t self taught-- if I had a master who could’ve taught me the right way then I could control them! I… I didn’t mean for them to kill your friend.” She pursed her lips together and held her breath before finally just apologizing. “I’m sorry,” she grumbled.

"...It is alright. Though, from what I know he was not only the ones injured, Fran, that Benjamin fellow, ever your..." he stopped himself before continuing. "Relative, was injured. And I know, you did not mean for them to be hurt... they were out looking for you from what I heard." the man explained as he took a small sip of his tea, knowing this discussion was quite interesting to him as it was getting cold before he finished even a cup. "Sadly... it would not have changed in the slightest if you had a master or not. The master might have made you withhold your power this night, or made you use it and leave immediately... that is a common tactic for necromancy users I must add, for the demons they summon are volatile... they care not for what is present, they care not if there are innocent people around. They will spread out, they will leave, ignoring the beckoners calls and cries..."

He sighed and placed down the emptied cup, it made not so much as a sound as it was laid upon the platter. "They want to be summonered here to kill, and reap. They don't care about your goals, they don't care whom you hold dear... they do not care what you want... they will fight, rip, tear, bite, rend, stab... kill... anything that comes in their way... man, woman, beast, orc, knight, murderer..." he paused for a moment as the next word caused him to stutter for a moment.. as if drudging up a terrible moment... One that tore a his very soul... "...Child..."

"...Another word used to label a necromancer is a beckoner, this is a title given to themselves as the word necromancer is heavily charged with ill thoughts... For all the magic does is beckon... With higher ranked spells you can take control of some but..." he sighed, and shook his head. "I have done extensive research upon necromancy. I have seen it in action, fought it, even gone so far as to read the tomes myself... my teacher, one of an order meant to excise it from Palenia like a gangrenous limb gave me that chance. She was the kindest person i have ever met, more of a mother then my own. She showed me the path of the dualist, one that sees that there is good in both light and darkness. it is people who make it turned to evil... I am sorry, i got side tracked." he shook off the thought before looking back to the scene at hand.

"I think, I've bothered you enough today. Tomorrow morning we shall be leaving this village. You may be in chains for awhile if you come with us, but this is for the other's sake. For what it's worth from a stranger, I trust you. because i know your heart is a good one." his smiled gleamed in the light candle light around them, it was genuine... and showed care for the young woman. Even if she was the cause of his friend's death. "I shall be spending some time tonight giving Aleks his last rites... he was not a avid believer but it is the very least i can do for him. To show he was not a simple body guard and to honor his life. I suggest you get some rest. We have lost carriage privileges for keeping people so you will be walking. Though I assure you." he let out a unhappy sigh, looking tired at the prospect. "You shan't be the only one... As much as I've spent my time learning, I certainly haven't spent much travelling."

With a small chuckle he got up to leave.

"Anything else you want to know?"

No one likes a guilty conscience, and despite how much she tried to combat those feelings and remind herself of her greater purpose, the heartache remained. She could have killed her friends, her family, maybe even the entire village if Lamont and his group hadn’t been passing by. She had the annoying inclination that she owed them something in return for correcting her blunder. Being killed with kindness was a sickening feeling. They were even seeing her out of the village to protect her from her former grandfather.

She let out a heavy sigh, still feeling bitter over this whole situation, still unwilling to admit she was walking down a dreadful path, and now jealous that he’d been granted far more opportunities to study magic than she had. Kristen shook her head and replied, “That’s fine. I’d better get used to walking anyway…” Her voice trailed off and she had the brief dark thought of reviving Alecks into an entombed just to see how Lamont would react. If that would cause him to lash out violently, show his darker side as opposed to the light. “I think you’ve talked my ear off enough for one night,” she responded coldly, pouting and looking down and away toward the floor.

The man chuckled slightly, she was indeed a teenager. "Alright my dear, try to get some sleep." he gave her a small wave before turning to exit the room, stopping just beyond the doorway. "Ah yes, do your best not to step on any toes, my other lords are pricklier than I, best you simply give them the old nod and quiet treatment, give them the answer they want etc, etc. Nobles right? they always think they know better hmm?" he beamed a smile to the woman, in truth one might be reminded of a fox in the way he smiled just then.

"My maid will no doubt he hovering over you like a wasp on honey, shes a sweet thing just don't let her stuff you full of cookies..." on that last note he turned to leave once more, but Kristen could definitely see him patting his stomach with a rather worried look. "Good night love."

And then, he was gone.

Time: Shortly after Escaping the Blue Rose before Chapter 1
Location: In the Winfield Carriage

Well Zakai's dreams of making it big and coming back a hero had been dashed. He had been really counting on this trip to be an adventure away from home; to bring Ed back safely and make the Hadwin name that much more popular. But no. It turned into a trap. An Ambush. And now Zakai was watching the smoke that showed that his ship had sank into the water.

Was he worried about the muddle they were in now? Yes, a little; Zakai wasn't completely brainless. But his disappointment about his dreams of greatness being lost was even greater then his fear for their situation. And now he needed to go find Ava and Vilhelmina since they were in his care now and make sure they were both unharmed.

Ava had had way too many near death experiences in her lifetime. Granted, she didn't have as many as a warrior would have, obviously, but she had too many for her. She had begun her life as a merchant, and the higher she went up in the world, the bolder the bull's-eye on her back became. She'd left Fuccino in fear of her life, and ended up in Herranow. A bad situation turned good and she earned favor with the King which landed her a position on this trip. An opportunity to conquer a foreign market swiftly became another death trap.

This one was so much worse though. Back in Neth, she'd simply fled to another country. Where the hell was she supposed to go to be safe here? No one knew the land, all they had to go off of was the incompetent explorer who never seemed like he knew whether he was going or coming and despite how large Satrella looked on his map, Ava felt claustrophobic. As if being on this continent was akin to being trapped in a storage closet with a hungry tiger. Getting out of that port had been Ava's first experience with war. These weren't bandits, these were soldiers and it showed. Had Taros not underestimated what it would take to bring them in, Ava was convinced she would be dead by now. It seemed to be pure luck that she had avoided being burned alive on the ship or slaughtered in the street during their escape, but it wasn't luck. Ava believed in gold, not a higher power, and she could thank gold for her enterprising decision to get off the boat and meet her new customers and for the sturdiness of her carriage when they revealed their nefarious intent.

But how far would gold go in these lands? They didn't even have a lot of it! There was no buying her way out of this one, and that had always been Ava's greatest strength. It was like tearing a sword away from a swordsman, what were they then? So despite being one of the older survivors, Ava was behaving quite childishly. They'd found respite for now, but Ava was positive a wave of arrows would fly out from the trees any second now and kill everyone. So naturally, to protect herself from such a fate, she hid under her driver's seat of the carriage in the fetal position, shaking from the adrenaline as if it were below zero outside.

Ava would of course be the easier one to find. So Zakai thought. Vilhelmina would probably find him, anyway, so he set his sights seeking out Ava, figuring she'd be at least near the carriage. Just to save himself the trouble, he did check the back first, and then he checked around outside, but he figured she'd be in the driver's seat anyway so he just wanted to get rid of the other options first. When Zakai didn't see her at first he began to have a minor fear that he had lost Ava. Dad is going to kill me. Zakai sighed. If I make it back alive, that is.

And then movement caught his eye and he looked under the seat. "Ava?" He said, kneeling down to touch her shoulder, wondering if she had somehow been injured.

Ava yelped and would have jumped ten feet in the air if it hadn't been for the front of the carriage. "AH!" she yelped and up she went and in less than a second she was back down, rubbing her head and groaning, "Owww..." Luckily she didn't smash directly through the dash because Winfields are built to last. Winfield. A name you can trust. Ava, who was usually a big baby about these things skipped the whole drama of bellyaching about the bump on her head and went straight to panic. "M-Milord! What are you doingoutside of the cabin?!" she sounded and looked as distressed as ever. "Wh-What if we're attacked?! You can't be out here in the open like this! An arrow could come straight for you!! Y-You must get back insidethis instant, Milord!"

Zakai had not been ready for Ava's high strung reaction and nearly fell off the carriage in surprise, clutching at his chest for he was pretty sure that his heart had stopped beating for a moment. Sighing, he straightened up and did his best impression of 'I'm a lord, stop bossing me around'.

"It's a lord's job to keep an eye on his workers." He stated, as if that answered everything. "Are you alright, Ava? Cowering under a carriage seat isn't really the best place to be. Even if we were to be attacked." Zakai's tone wasn't necessarily unfriendly but neither was it 'open arms, here for you'. He was attempting to be professional so it definitely came off as more steely, and hard... though it was brittle, too. Showing cracks here and there where his lack of professionalism would slip through.

Ava scoffed repeatedly as if she'd overloaded on cynicism and was glitching out. She pulled herself from out under the seat, but stayed crouched down, her eyes darting from side to side swiftly as she put her hands on his shoulders. "Milord, please, now is not the time to try to emulate your father or or or or or those knights that you're always hanging around!"she hissed. Ava tended to treat Zakai like he was much younger than he really was. Not out of disrespect, it's just who she was. She doubted his abilities as a warrior and she doubted his leadership decisions (such as choosing Vilhelmina to come along with him) and so she treated him like a child who needed his hand held and behaved like a naggy mother.

The problem was, she wasn't scolding him about a purchase or lecturing him about spending too much time with his bow and not enough with his books. Ava didn't know what to tell him. Their boat was destroyed and they were neck deep in hostile territory. The obvious answer was to get back home. But how? "G-Get back in the cabin milord, we're leaving rrrrright now! W-W-We're going to the nearest port a-a-a-and we will buyanother boat. Yes, yes that's it! We'll buy another boat!" She was laughing hysterically and scrambling for the reigns on the carriage. "We m-m-may not have enough gold but th-that's NEVER stopped Ava Winfield from closing a deal, I assure you!... MostlybecauseIalwayshaveenoughgold BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"

Being called out on trying to be like his father stung, but more then anything it was Ava's tone that got him. Even riddled with fear, it was still patronizing and Zakai's cheeks colored red in anger from being treated like a child. Ava always did this to him; whenever they interacted. He wondered if she still saw him as some ridiculous youth and not the man he had become. He only straightened further, arms crossed over his chest and hands turning into fists as he stared her down.

"I'm not emulating. I am a lord and I don't have to follow your orders." And right there he was a petulant child not getting his way. "I will not go back into the cabin, Ava. I'm staying right here until you calm down and figure out something we can actually do. We don't have the gold to buy another ship and even if they did these people wouldn't sell us one." He pointed out. "We'd be arrested before we could even ask the going price." He added with a huff, keeping his tone as firm as he could. "What are our other options?" He was pretty much repeating what his father had said at one point when the carriage wheel had broken on the ride to an important event. The wheel had been completely shattered and the driver didn't have a spare (because that had been the spare; apparently the carriage had had a different issue earlier that day). His father had remained calm and collected and stern and the carriage driver had respected him. I will get Ava to respect me. I'm a man, not a child. I give the orders here.

Lord Zakai wasn't budging and Ava was the exact kind of bullheaded and persistent woman to not budge either. Her eyes narrowed defiantly and she pushed her glasses up. That had always been her parenting tactic after all. Granted her children were a lot younger than Zakai, and Zakai wasn't her child. In the time she'd known him however, she'd begun to behave as if he was some rebellious son, and whenever she got into a tizzy like this it was almost impossible for her to listen to him. Sure she heard him, she heard and understood the words, but all logic was flicked away by her mother-knows-best complex.

"Lord Zakai we don't have any other options! It's not as if we can just sprout wings and fly back to Herranow, milord! We're stuck here in this despicable, lying, treacherous country and we've no idea where we're going! Unless you count the living, breathing, broken compass that is Hayden! And for all we know, he's been in on the whole thing the whole time!" Ava kept her voice low and discreet as she talked shit on their navigator, but upon looking around she noticed he wasn't even in sight. "If we run we'll eventually be c-caught and when we are th-they'll...they'll..." Ava's voice began to crack and she slumped into her seat and hid her face in her hands. She began to fight off sobs about as well as she could fight off a person. "They'll kill us, Lord Zakai, they'll kill us all!"

Zakai was ready. He was so ready to argue this out with Ava. Her 'I'm an adult and I know best' nonsense was not going to reach him. He was an adult too, and he knew... well not as much as she did but he still knew a lot. He knew more about fighting then she did, and more about people (he thought). She was just a carriage driver and a washed up merchant that happened to go on the wrong mission. Zakai... well he was a lord, trained to follow in his father's foot steps. Ava was in way over her head if she thought she could get Zakai to back down.

And then the woman was sobbing and Zakai froze. He'd never seen her like this before, and despite her strong words earlier she now seemed like she was the one who needed protecting. "We'll find a way home Ava, don't worry." He said, tone soft as he took a seat beside her and cautiously settled a hand on her shoulder. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. This is just a bit of a setback, that's all." And yet Ava's words had an image of the lords lined up somewhere, in front of thousands of strangers, publicly executed. It made his throat tighten and his pulse race... he hadn't really thought of their lives being on the line here. "We'll find a way back home. You know my dad; he wouldn't let anything bad happen to either of us."

Ava was beside herself with emotion. She'd never stared impending doom in the face like this before. Ava didn't believe in Goddesses or The All, she believed in math. Numbers and probability. What was the probability that she would ever see her children again? All of the weeks she'd left them with nannies instead of spending time with them weighed on her soul like boulders and she'd cracked under the crushing weight. She leaned into Zakai's shoulder, closer than she'd ever been to him.

"A S-S-SETBACK?!" she wailed painfully. She stammered as she tried to speak through her tears. "B-But your father d-doesn't--he doesn't even knoooow! H-He has no idea we're even i-in danger! W-We'll die here and he won't know for months, Zakai, m-months! A-A-And as you said, we'd only be arrested if we went to a port! It's only a matter of time before they sl-slaughter us like livestock!"

Of all the things his father had taught and prepared him for, he had never taken the time to tell him how to deal with a hysterical woman. When Ava leaned into him, Zakai slowly curled an arm around her shoulder, unsure if it was the right thing to do but trying. Her wail had Zakai's body becoming rigid, fighting the desire to leave because he didn't know what he was doing. He wanted to help Ava, he didn't like seeing her in distress. He was forcefully being reminded how very human she was, despite her usual uncaring behavior. And here she was, so terrified she was in tears.

"Well then, we just need to steal a boat and make it back so we can tell him ourselves what kind of danger Herranow is in, hmmm?" Zakai said, petting Ava's shoulder. "They're not going to slaughter us, Ava. We have strong warriors. Aren't you glad I spent more time with my bow instead of my books now? I can protect you; we have Vilma. There's the two huge, muscley guys following the lady of Fuccino and though sissy looking I hear Lamont is a force to recon with in battle." He hadn't actually heard anything of the sort about Lamont, but he was trying to build up Ava's confidence in them. "If nothing else, we're not going down without a fight. I believe we will make it back home."

Getting into her feels was equal parts cathartic and embarrassing. She'd revealed that she indeed did not have all the answers. The pressure to know all things had become much lighter. However, she wondered if Zakai would ever respect her the same way after this. If her words would just go heard but unheeded, or if he thought less of her for being a coward. If he would see her only as dead weight. She sniffled and wiped her eyes under her glasses and tried to steady her breathing.

"A-Alright..." she whimpered softly. Did she believe that their little band of survivors could protect her? No, she didn't think they could even protect themselves. But it was time to woman up. Who was the adult here after all? "Gods you must think I'm just a great big crybaby," she scoffed as she sat up straight. She was trying to return to her usual, eloquent demeanor. "I... I'm sorry for losing my head like that, milord. I-I-It was most... inappropriate..." She wasn't quite there yet, she was still sniffling and her eyes were still watering. She straightened her silly hat and cleared her throat in an attempt to speak a little clearer. The comment about the bow actually really got to her, Ava hated being wrong about things and would often try to spin her words around so that she was in the right but there was really no way to do that here.

Zakai wasn't entirely certain what to do now. It was obvious that Ava was still upset. If only his father were here. Just him being here would probably ease Ava's mind and he would certainly be able to convince her that they would make it through this safely. Then again if Zakai's father were here they would probably already be on a boat home, planning on how to get back at the liars of Satrella.

"I don't think of you as any kind of child." Zakai replied, a tad huffy from his failure in getting Ava to truly feel better. The distance she put between the two of them didn't help much. "Yes, let me turn you in to my father for being human Ava." Zakai snorted, shaking his head. "If anything I think more of you; I was beginning to believe you didn't have emotions." He said this with a smile and meant it as a joke but he was also being honest.

Zakai's little jokes earned something between a scoff and a chuckle from the merchant. If only she could return the feeling of not seeing him like a child. He was a good kid, and Ava still couldn't see him as anything else. "Yes well, now you know. I'm just as human as anyone else. Perhaps more shrewd, but human nonetheless," she replied, poking a bit of fun at herself. She was still terribly anxious, and she was no more optimistic about their chances of survival. But just having the boy there had been at least a little comforting.

Ava gently placed a hand on his leg. "Thank you Zakai. You're shaping up into a fine young man." She gave him a pat on the leg before waggling her finger at him. "But don't think for a second that just because your skills as a warrior will be tested in the near future that you can just neglect your studies! I've managed to save most of your books from the ship in fact!" Ava reached under the seat and pulled out notebooks and textbooks and set them in the archer's lap.

"We'll reduce your three chapter minimum to simply one chapter a day milord. Although I'm sure you've already taken that liberty yourself, haven't you?" Ava raised an eyebrow and smirked a bit. This was her way of coming back and showing the prince that she wouldn't break under the pressure, and that she'd always be at his side...nagging him and giving him pop quizzes about macroeconomics but at his side nonetheless.

Things were beginning to go rather nicely. His opinion of Ava had lifted and talking to her, and even joking, had been nice. He felt like he had been able to help by talking to her and even laughed when she brought up that she was a more shrewd being. Wasn't that the truth? Zakai should have seen that downfall coming, though.

Zakai groaned and ran a hand through his fire colored hair, completely distressed at discovering there would still be studies on this trip. "And I've gone back to believe that you are not, in fact, human." Zakai said with a rather petulant huff, arms crossed over his chest in a very sulky manner. "You are a very cruel woman, Ava. Very cruel." Getting to his feet, a scowl falling into place, he began to leave the carriage. "I'll make sure to do that one chapter before bed in the evening." He said, wondering just how closely Ava was going to watch him and if he'd be able to skimp on a chapter here and there.

"You'll thank me for my cruelty when you're the wise and powerful king of an economically efficient nation, milord!" Ava called after the prince as he left the carriage. She smiled to herself, knowing full well that he was going to try to slight his studies. And if she understood the gravity of the coming events, she would've been fine with that. Pretend like she didn't notice.

But she didn't know. And right now, maintaining some sense of normalcy, even if it was just harping on Zakai for not studying, would be good for her. Just thinking about it even put a small smile on her face before she remembered where she was. Then she promptly squeaked and sunk down to her seat, looking around with shifty eyes as she "took cover" from any enemy archers who may be lurking nearby.

"Sometimes I wonder if I should be speaking to those fluffy tailed tricksters. Then again, they do have fluffy tails... And their delivery service is great! Anywhere, anytime. Though... I do still wonder how they get through the guards." Spades mused, in his hands a large box of various tools he had just procured to complete his magnificent work of art! of course, his creation might not be ready any time soon, but when it will be! Ohohohoh!


The world will tremble with excitement! As much as he does before he sees a man walk into his patented love pie trap. In truth, a better name is still in the works, mostly to get a name that doesn't sound like what you do with your lover while you roll around in the- Oh! Marissa! Whats she doing here?


Why, it must be fate that they crossed paths, almost like some god-like person was purposefully creating this encounter!!


But that would never happen, unless somebody was secretly trying to get them to talk about something, or perhaps for himself to figure out what marissa was looking at...


...Or perhaps he was to give the audience abit of a show? She wasn't paying attention... if he could just angle the camera right in the upcoming scene they could see under...


...But then again...


The resulting deaths might not be worth it.


Sneaking up behind the woman he fixed his collar and then produced a cow bell from his handy tool kit, one of the most important piece of his kit he might add.


"MARISA!!!!!" he yelled while ringing his lovely bell, in an attempt to scare the living day lights out of her.

---





Clang. Swoosh. Clang. Marysa stared admirably into the distance. She was standing on a balcony, watching her train the recruits. The Apostle was on her break for now, as the mage watched Octavia skillfully handle her blade with ease. The way she moved would make her mount envious. She took the sights in with a blush and a wistful sigh as she enjoyed the moment. However, Marysa had thought she had the balcony to herself.


A piercing scream of her name shocked her out of the daze.


Out of impulse, the red haired woman turned around and fired a sharp beam of ice magic. The cold concentration nearly hitting Spades before disintegrating into vapor. Her heart was nearly jumping out of her chest as she looked in fear. Taking deep breaths, it only occured now to her that Marysa was talking to Spades the jolly jester.


"Spades!" She cried out in surprise and in slight annoyance. Suddenly, she turned back to her normal, if not arrogant, self. "For what do I owe the pleasure of your company, an upskirt glance? Perhaps you're here for another hair-braiding session? Oooor you need me to contribute to your prank of Prince Ivan?" The mage asked, her mild Ifrin accent obvious as hell.

---

"Oh you know me, planning all three in my on ways." he made a deep bow, his belled motley jingling with ever movement, making Spades wonder what she was staring at that she would have been able to ignore it. Perhaps she spotted an enemy? A cute bird? A cute butt? Well, last part she didn't need to go to far, there was mirrors around the castle!


Save that one for later, that was actually a pretty good one.


"Sooooooo? Whatchyea llokin' at?" the man asked as he waltz towards the balconey, looking above the world below like some strange jester hatted bird. "Hmmm, seems Octy is getting a big ol' practice session in. How dutiful of her. My, I can see her ferocity from here! Goodness, quite the sight ain't she? So valiant, so strong, so cute~!"

---

"O-Of course! I was only watching her train the recruits. You know, the best get trained in magic, with yours truly." Marysa huffed, hiding her flush. Hopefully her perceived arrogance would brush her watchful gaze off. "Octavia is providing essential training for our proud country! She's one of the reasons the Alliance is ultimately going to claim victory!" That was a true statement, though, she was hiding something else.

Marysa agreed, as much as she hated to say it. "She is... valiant... strong... cute..." She was about to repeat Spades' statement but could not bring herself to sound as lighthearted as he was. What escaped was wistful, the way a young girl talked about her secret crush. Whenever she watched Octavia train, she felt like she wasn't watching her train... but her. What Octavia had done for her would not be easily forgotten.

"N-Not that it means anything! You still haven't told me what you're doing here. W-Were you following me? I should report you to the authorities!" Marysa certainly sounded agitated, not being the best actor or liar by any means. She knew that there was no way she'd tell authorities. By all Sietic gods, they were one of the highest forms of authority in the Tarosian army. Either way, something was up with the poor Marysa.

---

"By all means tell the authorities~! I'm all ears and ready to receive your official complaints~!" the jester laughed a laugh that sounded more like an evil snickering, or softly cackling. "Such a gallant figure she possesses! Indeed she is the figure of the might of our army. You know I hear she has quite a few fans, no doubt many a suitor~!"

Teasing this girl was far too much fun for Spades.

"Oh but what am I doing? that is a secret, a secret I shall share! because you know how I am with secrets." he secretly let loose his most devious secret of being secretively very bad at keeping secrets that are secretively rather worthless. "I am building the machine of which our little Uryvia... Urrrvic? Uvrya? Whatever it's been practically a year since the story thing took place don't expect me to remember every day name in the book." the man spat upon the ground somehow through his mask.

"A machine to kill him with, a machination of magnanimous dispensation of pain and death that comes from a judicial appointment of such death and pain!" his long windedness was really coming through today.

---

"S-Suitors?!" Marysa turned bright red. "What? Who? Tell me!" She panicked.... no! There was no way! Octavia was too busy fighting a war that was too important for any stupid engagement to interfere with. Not that marriage was ever on her mind... "Obviously she has fans but... I can't believe it!"

"I have to admit, that name sounds awfully familiar..." She went over the name in her head, yet many of her thoughts turned up negative. Perhaps they would meet another time.

"I...I don't care about your killing machine! Is Octavia getting married?" Marysa felt her heart break into a million pieces. Wait... why was she feeling this way? I-It wasn't like she liked her or anything! It was an innocent admiration, nothing more than feelings were involved. Though, that moment in the storage closet felt real... No! No... she was hallucinating, seeing things that were not there!

---

"Oh believe me it is true." the jester spoke, only making this worse. "Though it is all for naught though, they have no chance to secure her favor, that I know." he turned away, walking a few jingling paces away from her as he shrugged.

"For it seems her heart belongs to another, or so I think." he stood facing away from here, before turning around a jingling array of bells. "For I swore I heard her say something long ago, when we were moving to strike upon the fools who came from across the seas... something mighty particular..." his words endlessly teased her, as he leaned forwards.

"Do you want to know what that is?" the man continued to spin his web, a spider waiting for the fly to get caught.. He WAS mostly lieing here, but it was to sweet of an opportunity to pass up.

---

Marysa wanted to scream and cry. Though, in hindsight it would soon seem odd that the Commander V would trust Spades. At least, there was hope that Octavia would never accept those proposals. But... what if she did?

"ANOTHER?!" She yelled, almost attracting the attention of each recruit. Luckily, Octavia was too focused in training to pay any heed. Oh dear... this wasn't good.. The commander took frantic steps in the jester's direction. "You can't possibly mean..." She continued, but he didn't finish her sentence or ease her worries. Marysa was taking the bait.

She forcefully turned him around, grabbing onto his shoulders. "T-TELL ME! What did Octavia say?!" Marysa was about to shatter any nearby windows around her with just her screams alone.

---

Spades slowly crept his hands up towards her shoulders, lightly placing them upon the poor girl. His movements were quiet as a ghost, the sounds of jingling bells silent within the seriousness of this very moment. He leaned closer, and closer, until he was up a inch away the the poor woman's ear. "it was before their escape... I heard her utter the words when she was alone to examine the final battle plans. I often sneak around and peep on the others, that is what I do you know, I the keep secrets to myself, small little memories for me to keep... But this.. I cannot keep any longer.. not from you... you deserve to know.."

He kept dancing around the subject,dangling the carrot just out of reach of the poor girl, what she wanted so dearly to know...

But then again... he may as well renew her fervor for the hunt of the assembly no?

they were still out there, and they needed to have them dead yesterday!

His pink eyes narrowed, nearly glowing behind the deep, dark shadows behind his ever smiling mask...

"I heard her utter... that it was a damn shame she was to kill him... That one cut a fine figure... From what I could see, she held the portrait of one of them, i couldn't see much aside from pink hair..." he relayed the lie to her, lying with each and every syllable in the words. A creeping sense of enjoyment crawled up his body, the trickery that was being played here would be remembered in legends...

Were he to let anyone know of course.

"...Believe me or not, I care little in the end. But you know... What must be done if you are to win, prove yourself over those she fancies, even if so only slightly..." the man seemed to wiggle away from her grasp like a snake slithering between her fingers, simply jingling away with each merry step, before opening a nearby door and slipping inside.